Zoo, thanks so much for your thoughtful comment!
Lykren, I'm so glad this part works particularly well for you. Thanks for commenting!
Zoo, thanks so much for your thoughtful comment!
Lykren, I'm so glad this part works particularly well for you. Thanks for commenting!
"But do you really, seriously, Major Scobie," Dr. Sykes asked, "believe in hell?"
"In flames and torment?""Oh, yes, I do."
"That sort of hell wouldn't worry me," Fellowes said."Perhaps not quite that. They tell us it may be a permanent sense of loss."
"Perhaps you've never lost anything of importance," Scobie said.
what have you done
at my feet
crushed cranberries
the flesh no more
than a pile of pulp
it's only ten ounces
but it weighs
and now it is
fast deliquescing
like decomp
I clutch my chest
as I sink on my knees
I sweep it up
with bare hands
but the dark sticky liquid
drips right through my fingers
my heart
oh my heart
Last edited by Haunted; 09-29-2012 at 04:13 AM.
"But do you really, seriously, Major Scobie," Dr. Sykes asked, "believe in hell?"
"In flames and torment?""Oh, yes, I do."
"That sort of hell wouldn't worry me," Fellowes said."Perhaps not quite that. They tell us it may be a permanent sense of loss."
"Perhaps you've never lost anything of importance," Scobie said.
Hello Haunted. Nice to see you around. Homecoming only has one flaw:
"...so I left them out
at the stone cold entry"
Entry should be "entrance" (as in doorway, not rapture) Entry is a noun but it is the act of entering not the entrance itself.
Apart from this minor glitch it's a very good, evocative poem.
"what have you done"
Great word choices. "Deliquescing," really juicy! Very expressive and a good read. Much enjoyed.
Live and be well - H
Subtle, sad and understated as always.
I particularly liked this reverse statement:
it's only ten ounces
but it weighs
H
It has a dark, dark beauty haunted. A miscarriage? Or the remains of your heart?
For those who believe,
no explanation is necessary.
For those who do not,
none will suffice.
Hawk, great to see you here too! Depending on which side of the pond you are on, "entry" is correct. Over here it means "a place of entrance, such as a door or lobby" (Oxford American Dictionary). Same definition, just different wording, from Merriam Webster. It's actually a term I picked up from poring over architectural floor plans. In the poem I pictured a foyer. I'm heeding your comment and I dont' want confusion, but in this case I'm sticking to "entry" because the "n" sound in "entrance" is a tad too heavy and nasal for the line.
As for your "what have you done" comment, your brand of dark humor carries over and despite the subject matter it brought me a chuckle!
Hill, I said that before and I'll say it again, it's such a blessing that you are back and commenting, your comments are valuable in pointing me in the right direction. Don't go anywhere!
Jerry, it's the latter *sniffles* I need a screwdriver right about now
"But do you really, seriously, Major Scobie," Dr. Sykes asked, "believe in hell?"
"In flames and torment?""Oh, yes, I do."
"That sort of hell wouldn't worry me," Fellowes said."Perhaps not quite that. They tell us it may be a permanent sense of loss."
"Perhaps you've never lost anything of importance," Scobie said.
I returned to 'homecoming' and had that poignant feeling in my heart again; now 'what have you done' stands here before me, this outstanding metaphor, the rhythm, the lament, contained... you are such a genuine poetess, Haunted. It's a privilege, en enriching experience and more... to read you again and again.
What fine touch this displays. You've shown us more than a few inspired moments.
J
taa daah! (arrives with screwdriver)
For those who believe,
no explanation is necessary.
For those who do not,
none will suffice.
Jerry to the rescue! x
Bar, you are so kind, so sweet. You have such depth as a reader and an accomplished poet yourself.
Jack, means a lot to me, thanks
"But do you really, seriously, Major Scobie," Dr. Sykes asked, "believe in hell?"
"In flames and torment?""Oh, yes, I do."
"That sort of hell wouldn't worry me," Fellowes said."Perhaps not quite that. They tell us it may be a permanent sense of loss."
"Perhaps you've never lost anything of importance," Scobie said.
one story
I know these stairs
to second floor bedrooms
up and down so million times
that I can tell the risers
have gotten taller
after two steps up
joint pain radiates like fire
burning from the roots
of a family tree
I grab the bannisters
the only bona fide support system
at the half landing
I catch a deep breath
at this altitude the air is thinner
lightheadedness adds
to the confusion
my hand slips off the iced up railing
I continue the climb slowly
on both hands
after an hour
I reach the top
and collapse
face resting on the ground
I have a panoramic view
of nothing
I run my chapped fingertips
over the arctic white carpet
feeling for remnants
there must be a hair somewhere
to suggest that he isn't gone
Last edited by Haunted; 11-25-2012 at 08:34 PM.
"But do you really, seriously, Major Scobie," Dr. Sykes asked, "believe in hell?"
"In flames and torment?""Oh, yes, I do."
"That sort of hell wouldn't worry me," Fellowes said."Perhaps not quite that. They tell us it may be a permanent sense of loss."
"Perhaps you've never lost anything of importance," Scobie said.
Hi Haunt. A good strong poem here, but I'd query S1 L5: The only thing the it can refer to in context is the thought and this would appear to be that the risers are taller. but the poem is in present tense and the thought occurs today, so it kind of contradicts itself and doesn't really make sense. To be honest you don't really need this line.
The other line I'd query is, "the only bona fide support system." it's a bit of a lonely comment amid all the excellent description. Where the rest of the poem shows, this tells. I guess you could either cut the line and combine the first line of the next stanza with "I grab the banisters" to make a discrete stanza, cut the line or replace it.
Apart from these two tiny issues its a good poem which takes us on a journey up the stairs and delivers its punchline on target. I like it.
Live and be well - H
Hawk is spot on with his disapproval of Line 5 - it brought me up short as well. What's the 'it'? The number of times you climbed the stairs presumably but it could be misinterpreted and is a distraction.
I'm also not so keen on 'definitely' in line 7. You're describing their physical properties but I feel it would be more effective if you stuck to showing us how they seem steeper as your footsteps falter... just my opinion.
I don't have such a problem with line 14 - it's foreshadowing what will follow; the narrator left in isolation inside her icy tower.
I could recommend another cut or two to tighten this but overall a very effective piece.
I particularly like the play on words within the title.
H
I hope I'm not bothering you, but would you please explain its connotations to me?
Thanks Hawk and Hill.
You both echo what was in my head when I was throwing this together, about L5. In fact I had a problem with both L4 and L5 (up down up down a million times / I don't think it anymore.) I'm losing both lines. It's just something of my anecdotal experience, I go up and down the stairs so many times, I do it automatically without thinking, the climbing up, and coming down. Until the day the climbing feels so much harder.
The line "the only bona fide support system" is one I actually like, Hawk. I know what you mean, it's a comment and might be out of place, but one can still inject a thought in a description of an event, and it goes with the destruction of the family tree, as family is still one of the greatest support system in our lives. Just now closed up the space and combined the two stanzas into one thought.
Hill I get what you mean about "definitely". There should be a better way, it's so not elegant and shows laziness, but think (and hope) the strain from going up the first two steps answers that. And yes, it's a bit wordy for my liking too, but opted to preserve the sentiments in this particular one, since it's autobiographical. Very pleased that you noticed the little play in the title.
MI, no bother at all, I really appreciated your interest in the piece. It's about losing a family member who lived in the same house. The persona dreads going upstairs to where she used to find him, knowing she won't find him there anymore. So climbing up the stairs becomes really grueling, psychosomatically, as though she is actually climbing a steep mountain, or even Mt. Everest, and succumbing to panic attacks along the way. Searching for a hair is a compulsive act as we treasure a lock of hair from loved ones, or fur clippings of a pet. Hope this makes sense to you, I welcome your feedback.
Last edited by Haunted; 09-29-2012 at 08:27 PM.
"But do you really, seriously, Major Scobie," Dr. Sykes asked, "believe in hell?"
"In flames and torment?""Oh, yes, I do."
"That sort of hell wouldn't worry me," Fellowes said."Perhaps not quite that. They tell us it may be a permanent sense of loss."
"Perhaps you've never lost anything of importance," Scobie said.
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