Poetry Forum

Hi Fliss, and apologies for my slow coach reply. The 'change' for me comes with the word 'fight' which leads to 'pace' - an energised stepping-out-of-character. So actually it would make more sense to me if it was 'She isn't right' - Something about the N is disconcerting the clique (They're pointin...

Hi Fliss,
Really like this.
'twinging' is fine for me, I got the understatement there.
My only puzzle was 'This isn't right' - Is this the clique's reaction?
Or the Narrator? Is the not rightness her embarrassment/confusion? Because of the ambiguity it feels a bit of a forced rhyme.

Best, Jules

Hi Ray,
just reinforcing really - the chaos of S2 brilliantly stage managed - it works for me to plunge straight in there.
Title? -'The Question'

Jules

Thanks Phil and Ray, glad you both think V3 is getting there. Phil - I am currently agreeing with you about 'Natural History'. The last line loses a bit of its kick but I think the rest gains. Ray - fair point: 'planets' in V4 (plus a few tweaks in S2). I've dropped 'the colours somehow brighter bac...

Thanks for returning Phil.
Ray, there's an outside chance this last version may answer your question.

Best, Jules

Hi Not, Half the fun of this is sending your reader to a Welsh dictionary, and surely half the point, the irony that we English are more familiar with obscure whales than the commonest greetings of our neighbours. Raising a question in the mind with the rhymes is a gentle way of doing it. You will h...

Thanks Phil,
some useful stuff.
The PB somehow passed me by, film and book. Currently on page 82 and really enjoying it!

Best, Jules
(V2up)

A happy marriage Not. Maybe a couple more Welsh/whale rhymes? L4/5: missing a rhyme here? L7: phonetics or straight Welsh? I'd prefer latter. L8: comma instead of 'or' for tighter rhythm L10: 'like a blank picture book' - like it L11: How's about fin instead of sei and then: 'and a spout with a spur...

He'll fight on. Red, yellow, and mauve planets crowding at the gate. His units everywhere now, crouching in their hides; the search for life, a running joke. That sainthood/prophet moniker. All he did was sign a contract, happened to bring the BBC to bloom, ushered in these, what would you call them...

Hi Caleb, Most of your tweaks have improved this - it feels more considered and lyrical - but I am still left wanting more, especially about the other guy, who just feels like a blank. S3 - 'to struggle for the freedom others took for granted' - are these your words or a paraphrase of what he was sa...

Thank you Phil and Tristan . . . This felt like a risky piece, especially the last line - so I'm delighted with your enthusiastic response. Tristan, spot on with the interp. I also wanted the switch to 'We' to imply the 'burning daffodils' might be us, i.e. the N could just be looking through photos...

Thanks Not and Phil, On a circuitous route here. Unorthodox workshopping, I know . The delivery driver was really just a device, and foregrounded it seems to draw me towards the jokey/facetious. The riddle is the point. I'm interested in using words to explore visual perception, specifically our biz...

Back home and on my sofa flopped
The one that floats o'er vales and hills
I flash 'neath finger, captured, cropped
A host of burning daffodils

We stretch in never ending line
Our quarried lakes, our bulb hung trees
As glorious as the stars that shine
And fleeting as an astral breeze

Hi Jimoonan,
Enjoyed this, but not exactly sure why. It's monumentally ambiguous in a very English way. A sense of mischief masquerading as coyness, a sense of much energy held in check about to be unfurled.

Best, Jules

Apologies for that terrible V2.
Thanks for the steers Not and Phil. Duly fed into the computer.

Best, Jules

Thank you Kris, I fear it's irremediable.
A reincarnation attempted . . .

Jules

Hi lbs, I was feeling sorry for the bacon sandwiches, but there's definitely some mileage in beating a metaphor to death, like picking at a scab, the compulsiveness of it, the self destructiveness. So this has been growing on me, but it feels a bit too raw and first drafty Bacon sandwiches reminded ...

Thank you Phil and lbs. The sonics are key for me, so I'm glad you both picked up on that, but I think I may have sacrificed some (most?) of the sense. The key image is supposed to be a house in the shape of a human head. lbs - you said the imagery was 'spot on', but not sure if you got that. Phil -...

Hi Fliss,
Really impressive sonnet plus two.
Workshopping at its best! What or where is CB?
Best, Jules

Hi and welcome smiffey,, My first take on this, at least for the first 3 verses was that it was from the point of view of the virus. As things stand I found that more interesting. I like your idea that our experience, and what the virus has brought out in us depends on 'position' or chosen attitude,...

Tight packed triangles, four high, two wide. From the second row the central triangle shimmies up a quarter trailing a shallow bowl of shadow. Two triangles at its shoulders fill halfway to black trapeziums. Two white circles, appearing at their sides, elongate upwards to the height of two triangles...

Hi Caleb, actually the last three lines felt the strongest to me. Maybe even start at that point and track backwards, trying to unfold it. 'Diary entries' can be interesting, it depends on the mood. I'd keep trying with this one. Hard to say exactly why it doesn't come off the page - it feels sort o...

Two thumbs up - thank you Phil and Honour. The heart of this for me is the traditional poet's bleat at our destructive dominium. It's true we take possession of the world with our language as well as our tar and our cars, but I wonder if the inclusion of the Tractatus at the end unbalances a tad. Th...

Thanks for coming back Tristan.
Just one final tweak:
'we're in the twenties' - (too specific) edited to 'these days'.
Glad you like this. It's just a small comedy of manners, but perhaps more significant for having grown so out of proportion in my mind.

Best, Jules

Tidal flows, isolated rock pools, or complex harbours with sluice gates and sand bars. An Art Work in a Car Park A Tar Work in an Art Park A Car Work in a Tar Park A toddler kicks out, sensing freedom, makes the sound of an idling motor. I, ache for silence: a wheezy harumph a swift departure. Tract...