I like the treatment of the picture very much. The structure works to emphasize hands and I also like the repetition of sound. I also like the decreasing length of the stanzas.These hands have found a home
in one another after plaster, lathe,
brick and the malleable stuff
of which the human heart is made
have failed her.
We go from hand to hand
seeking comfort and refuge
in love, in comradeship, in the hands
of the Creator but, one by one,
each refuge crumbles or is sacked.
The hands that held us, warm
and safe, let go, until we fall, at last,
into our own hands’ clasp.
or like this:
The hands that held us, warm
and safe, grow lax, let go, until we fall, at last,
into our own hands’ clasp.
Regarding the alternate last stanza, the first version is my choice. "Grow lax" makes it read awkwardly and it is not necessary. I understand your intention of hands growing too weak to hold on, but in the end they no longer hold on and that is the point, not why.
I mentioned the sounds earlier, which made me wonder about the word "lathe." Throughout your references are to things of the masonary ilk, of which lath is one and which amintains the same "a" sound as sacked, clasp, plaster. Lathe, however, belongs to woodworking and I got the impression from the photo and your poems of someone whose hands had also been worn by working with stone things that "crumble."
Perhaps I am reading more into this than you intended, or maybe this is one of those cases where what is intended is there, but so are those marvelous "unintended" elements.
Wonderful poem nevertheless.
Last edited by firefangled; 03-02-2008 at 08:37 AM.
Whoops. I was misled into thinking that your comment would appear in your own thread, "Afternoon Eyes Closed, which is where I posted my response to the foregoing. Thanks
"You must be the change you want to see in the world." Gandhi
I just finished reading this poem. I liked it a lot. I don't really know what else to say since everyone has already beat me to it.
I'll show my mother sometime later.
The worst feeling in the world isn't loneliness, it's being forgotten by someone you can't forget.
I really like this one...
Keep the original - don't play around with it.
This is a good poem. Concerning the 'plaster, lathe, brick' that firefangled mentioned, may I add that theses are all things used to build a house- a home-another place we usually seek comfort and refuge.
Also, I loved the ending. Yes, the tone throughout is somewhat sad and contemplative, but the first thought that popped into my head was that people may fail us, even people we love, but eventually we gain wisdom-our hands grow strong and capable enough so that we can take care of ourselves.
"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
I find unsurpassed beauty.
“Those who seek to satisfy the mind of man by hampering it with ceremonies and music and affecting charity and devotion have lost their original nature””
“If water derives lucidity from stillness, how much more the faculties of the mind! The mind of the sage, being in repose, becomes the mirror of the universe, the speculum of all creation.
This is a hauntingly beautiful poem. I prefer the first version. The extra beats aren't needed, in my opinion and to my ear. The added phrase, "grows lax", does provide more emphasis, greater nuance by extending the imagery but by poem's end it seemed superfluous; I had the lingering sense it took from the whole. Of course, I had benefit of reading both versions. I wonder if I'd have the same reaction if I had only read the latter version? In any case, the poem is quite touching and exquisitely executed. Bravo!
Last edited by ctalerico; 07-24-2008 at 04:15 PM.
"Cleanse my heart, give me the ability to rage correctly." --Joe Orton, Head to Toe
Might I suggest your consideration of the use of ellipsis in place of "grow lax" -- it might affect the psychological distance you desire before the arrival of "at last" while not injecting definite beats? Just a thought... here it is for your immediate consideration:
The hands that held us, warm
and safe, let go... until we fall, at last,
into our own hands’ clasp.
Last edited by ctalerico; 07-24-2008 at 08:09 PM.
"Cleanse my heart, give me the ability to rage correctly." --Joe Orton, Head to Toe
In order to delay "at last" perhaps you could just play with line spacing.
"The hands that held us, warm
and safe, let go, until
we fall, at last,
into our own hands’ clasp."
Or something like that. I also like the way the sentence literally 'falls' off mid-phrase after 'until'. But that may or may not work for you.
Anyways, sorry that my comment is a bit anachronistic but I just found it through another link!
Hmmm, a serious case of necrothreading going on here, but I must say I'm glad it happened. This is one of the most poignant and profound pieces I've ever read here on LitNet, Prince. It's so perfect I don't think I can utter another breathe of criticism.
"As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being." --Carl Gustav Jung
"To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due." --Neil Gaiman; The Sandman Vol. 4: Season of Mists
"I'm on my way, from misery to happiness today. Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh" --The Proclaimers
lovely little resurrection here! Quite tender and sensitive.
Thanks Ctalerico. JD Sparks, Morpheus and lallison.
Prince, This really is a memorable poem.