Hi Doc, I really loved this, right up to the last two lines. How does literature shield your balcony from May's moist breeze? I hope you keep your books indoors; I'd hate to think of them all turning to paper mache while you squat, incommunicado on your balcony behind their decaying remains, drinking Scotch by the disconnected phone!
You must take better care of your books
Live and be well - H
This skips along nimbly until the ache of those two final lines, which are splendid in saying just enough but no more.
The word 'dopelgangers' was a really good choice, Doc. One can picture the speaker in traffic, aching to get home to that scotch and forget about mundanity for a while.I play squash with bouncing cheques
From nine till six; then I drive home
Among my dopelgangers, wishing no more
Than to taste scotch in twilight silence
Holding a book; a symbol of a bachelor
Who now wishes to become inelligible.
Playing 'sqaush with bouncing checks' seems like it could easily make a man feel that way. The meaning of the last two lines seems to be most developed in the coming stanza...
There's no 'eager promise,' just much deserved relaxation, and perhaps a tinge of resignation. Just a man reading, sipping scotch. And it slows the heart down, and disconnects the reader from the world to someplace that is not mundane...These days, spring Fridays that fade into
Weekends of silent phones
Are just that: a little space to breathe.
Their early evenings hold no sinful promise
Of booze and girls eager to giggle.
Just a peculiar slowing down of the heart
As literature emerges from the pages
And shields my balcony
From May's moist breeze.
Usually when you disagree with Hawkman you're wrong. But this reader has got to disagree with Monsieur Hawk and say he quite likes your last two lines. The living literature shields the reader from reality, ie the breeze coming in from the balcony (wonderful imagery), was the interpretation that this reader made.
Thanks for posting, Doc.
J
Sorry chum but the word choices in the last two lines are too specific. Literature shielding the balcony? I just see books stacked on one. To have said "literature shields me from May's moist breath," would have been sufficiently abstract as a metaphor to convey intent without conjouring a bizarre image of literature (as books) stacked on a balcony. It might have been an idea to incorporate a literative allusion to balconies, as in balcony scenes, as per the bard I suppose, but this too would probably be too evocative of one specific play. One wrong word can really throw a reader and derail the carefully established relationship with the text.Originally Posted by Jack of Hearts
True I'm just one reader, so up to a point, this is a subjective opinion, but it doesn't make the assessment untrue.
Live and be well - H
Ah. Fair enough.
Anyways, a fine poem, Doc. Keep 'em coming!
J
A fine poem, reflecting so accurately my own spring Fridays that fade into shabbatot, quiet --- and only calls of "still little voice"...! Good poetry, Doc.
This is quite beautiful. On reading the first line, I was sorta hoping this was a suitor's promise to his lady that they would have a future together. I didn't think there were too many metaphors at all. Sometimes I don't really want to know exactly what something means, I just want the music and the mystery of it to roll across my skin. And this one did.
"The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its' own reason for existing." ~ Albert Einstein
"Remember, no matter where you go, there you are." Buckaroo Bonzai "Some people say I done alright for a girl." Melanie Safka
Qi, thanks for calling that one up again. It really is something special. Doc, sometimes you out-do yourself.
J
EDIT: The first stanza is impossibly beautiful.
EDIT EDIT: How did this reader miss 'To L' the first time? Somehow this is Doc's fault.
Last edited by Jack of Hearts; 06-09-2012 at 12:35 AM.
Just read 'To L' as posted by Jack in the favourites section and want to send you Kudos as I love it. I blame my missing it on this single thread business. mutter mutter
cheers
JB
For those who believe,
no explanation is necessary.
For those who do not,
none will suffice.
He kisses his beloved on the morn of her departure
Night clouds take flight.
Past shimmering waves
Gradience transforms
Night's blue to white.
Fresh, fresh the breeze,
Warm tears from your eyes.
Stars flicker, glimmer, glow and fall
Measuring summer sighs.
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine...
Doc, this poem has some real elegance in there! But this reader can't help but feel that it needs something of a trimming at parts to bring it out. Of course, the title is the key here and that's a great and interesting choice. It's actually hard to say why this reader feels ambivalence toward this poem. Maybe you could look at it in a few days and see how you feel. This reader certainly will.
J
I love to hear "summer sighs"... but stars do not fall after dawn, do they? Doc, great is my fault, but I interfered with your verse and left little of it, in the endavour to make it elegantly sparse. Perhaps I only made it poor. Forgive me, but here are the four lines:
Beneath night's blue, the shimmering waves.
Fresh is the breeze, warm are tears
and stars -
fall into summer sighs.
I always love to discover what's on your mind. This time something light and playful, isn't it.
God, man, I looked at it this morning and I don't like it one bit. Nasty wee effort, isn't it?
I don't think I'll go back to this one -- but I'll leave it up as a reminder that I should never attempt poetry after my (famous) green pepper and feta cheese omelet.
Bar, thanks for your comment, too.
Best,
DH
Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine...
God, man, I looked at it this morning and I don't like it one bit. Nasty wee effort, isn't it?
I don't think I'll go back to this one -- but I'll leave it up as a reminder that I should never attempt poetry after my (famous) green pepper and feta cheese omelet.
Bar, thanks for your comment, too.
Best,
DH
Nonononono. It's not nasty. Don't give up on it, Doc. This reader will come back and visit it in the next few days after he's thought a little more about it.
J
Hello Doc. I'm not too sure about the title as the use of "morn" for morning is kind of self-consciously "poetic" and somewhat at varience with the abbreviated stop-start of the short sentences, unless, of course, you intend it to be satirical. Gradience, although not in any of my dictionaries, is a term used in linguistics and semiotics and I'm not comfortable the way it sits in your verse. I assumed you meant it to indicate the sky's colour gradient (combined with its radience).
The structure seems to be struggling against itself a little. You seem to be grasshoppering around with your images. Starting with night (mentioned twice) then light, breeze, tears, falling stars and sighs. I can't decide if I should suggest you put the images into a more cohernet order, so that they progress better. Take the falling stars; Should they be with the night images or should they be linked to the tears? The trouble is that as an image for tears they really need to be part of the same sentence. You've been a bet profligate with your full stops. Consequently it doesn't read as well as it might.
Having said all that I don't actually think it's a bad start. you've some nice images here as a framework to hang a really nice poem on.
"Stars glimmer, glow and fall,
night clouds take flight
and radience transforms
the blue to white.
Fresh, fresh the breeze
cooling tears from your eyes,
measuring summer sighs."
Might be one way to polish it. Always a pleasure to get a glimps of the Doc's take on things.
Live and be well - H
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