Title now yay "Feel or Hear?"

[Ladyhawk]

poem-metaphorical-concept-using-cloths.

V3

A thread of difference


Sat by the stony window
high in the tower
a girl sat and watched
the chatting crowds.
Their mouths move
sounds rose, babbling
like gabbling geese.

She quietly stroke two cloths.

One stolen for warmth
the other she had found
skipping through Abington
down the grassy hill.

She silently gazed at the patterns.

The threads closely
weave
streaks of colour
across the plain.
Stroked up
into closure
by delicate hands
sealing the airy
cold gaps.

This silken cloth
had sucked through
the window.

She smiled and watched the silken dance.

Silk captured the sounds
she observed and curious.

It clasps and dances
among a breeze.
A floating joy
where striped frayed edges
swoop
along the melody
peaks
and its shine
flickers the sunlight
before gracefully
touching the green.

The other is
still.
A woollen drape
cloaking muffle sounds.
The ruffled texture
that protected her dark
oak welsh dresser
with carved lion mouths.
Warm Fuzz
protecting grains
like armour
against the damp foggy air.

Spaced swirls
dancing the loop to loop.
Pearled colours
knitted hand in hand
as though battle comrades
standing with brave faces
awaites their fate
against the showering
wet pellets.
Wisps tickling the
holes that breath.

She looks down grabs, throws
the drape and frowns.

It moves through air
she nodded and agreed.

ONE CAST THROW.
WORDS
SLIPS
LIKE WIND
DISAPPEARING
THROUGH GAPS:
SOFTNESS
HIT GROUND HARD
LIKE
THE CROCHET
SPLASHED
COLOUR
LETTERS SCATTER
EVERYWHERE




The linking words
heard are
taken for granted
but binds your concept
and disappears.
You may frown as she
comprehends what
and yet the power of verbs
bringing
a world of vision
into life through gestures

The girl looks across,
her perplexed face
smiled
admiring
the hem's
lacey sway

She imagines only the footfall's
thud she can feel but not...

The missing sounds:
swishing along the path
flickering in the wind
and the twittering
cheer
taunting the ball
of purring fur
curled on a
bright red mat.


It mimics her perpetuation

_ _ e _a_ _a_ on _ _e _a_.








Reflecting notes

Those who are lucky to hear:
their cloth floats - silk tartan closely weaved,
captures the whispers upon a breeze,
the musical games
as eyes close swaying
upon the ebbing sea:
always subtle.

Those whom are deaf:
their cloth - knitted with gaps,
captures only the vibrations
of a strong gale.
No matter how tight
a knitted garment entails
the cloth shall never float
upon the light melodies,
as delicate drama dances
upon the stormiest waves:
always direct.




Copyright 2012 Victoria Curtis






V2
The girl sits and watches
the chatting crowds
their mouths move
sounds babbling
like gabbling geese

She strokes two cloths
one stolen for warmth
the other found
dancing through Abington
down the grassy hill.


The threads closely
weave
Streaks of colour
across the plain.
stroked up
into closure
by delicate hands
sealing the airy
cold gaps

The silken cloth
had sucked through
the window

It captures the sounds, hears like...
it clasps and dances
among a breeze.
A floating joy
where striped frayed edges
swoop along the melody
peaks
and its shine
flickers the sunlight
before gracefully
it bounces to the ground

Higher up inside
still
a woollen drape
cloaks and muffle sounds
ruffled texture
protects the dark
oak welsh dresser
with carved lion mouths.
Fuzz protecting grains
like armour
Against the damp foggy air.

Spaced swirls
Dancing the loop to loop
pearled colours,
knitted hand in hand
As though battle comrades
Standing with brave faces
awaites their fate.
Wisps tickled the
holes that breath


It moves through breeze
Like how Deafness pick sounds or words...

CAST THROW
WORDS
SLIPS
LIKE WIND
DISAPPEARING
THROUGH GAPS:
THE CROCHET
SPLASHED
SOFT
LETTERS
LIKE BREEZES
HITTING
WALLS




The linking words
taken for granted
but binds your concept
disappears
and you may frown as she
at her rhetorical grammar
wondering how she
comprehends what is said
because somehow
the power of verbs
brings a world of vision
along with your subtle moves
for her life lives through gestures










ORIGINAL


Closely weaved colours
Crossing the plains
channels of colour.
Streaks of thread
Rubbed in closure
Sealing cold gaps

Hears like...

A silk clasps
a breeze
floating as
striped
frayed edges
dances along
the melody
gracefully
upon the ground

....
spaced swirls
pearled colours,
knitted rows
wisps tickled
holes that breathe

Deafness like...

CAST THROWN CUTS
THROUGH WIND:
CROCHET
SPLASHED
LIKE GENTLE
BREEZES
HITTING
WALLS







Reflecting notes

Those who are lucky to hear:
their cloth floats - silk tartan closely weaved,
captures the whispers upon a breeze,
the musical games
as eyes close swaying
upon the the ebbing sea:
always subtle.

Those whom are deaf:
their cloth - knitted with gaps,
captures only the vibrations
of a strong gale.
No matter how tight
a knitted garment entails
the cloth shall never float
upon the light melodies,
as eyes closed drama dances
upon the stormiest waves:
always direct.


Copyright 2012 Victoria Curtis

[Thoth]

Hello Victoria

I think you have a very good idea here. There is a lot of symbolism in the terminology of cloths and associated activities. Weaving is one of the oldest trades there is.

I must point out that much more than a list is required to create a poem though and in my opinion your notes are more poetic than the piece itself. Please remember that your reader will probable have no idea whatsoever of the terms you find so familiar. Those thoughts that stem so readily from the phrases for you will not so readily germinate with others.

There are various approaches to solving these issues but probably the most effective is using them in context so that the meanings become obvious. May I also suggest creating a storyline to involve the reader and use those snapshot images that you listed to develop a real poem that lingers in the reader's mind long after the page is closed. As it stands, the intended metaphor is unsupported.

I want to know more about the deaf and the blind and how these cloths manifest in their world. This is a sensual experience that could link up to all sorts of things including those with historic and spiritual connotations.

Please don't just stop here, there is rich material for something really special to develop.

Best wishes,

Wally

[Ladyhawk]

Hello Victoria

I think you have a very good idea here. There is a lot of symbolism in the terminology of cloths and associated activities. Weaving is one of the oldest trades there is.

I must point out that much more than a list is required to create a poem though and in my opinion your notes are more poetic than the piece itself. Please remember that your reader will probable have no idea whatsoever of the terms you find so familiar. Those thoughts that stem so readily from the phrases for you will not so readily germinate with others.

There are various approaches to solving these issues but probably the most effective is using them in context so that the meanings become obvious. May I also suggest creating a storyline to involve the reader and use those snapshot images that you listed to develop a real poem that lingers in the reader's mind long after the page is closed. As it stands, the intended metaphor is unsupported.

I want to know more about the deaf and the blind and how these cloths manifest in their world. This is a sensual experience that could link up to all sorts of things including those with historic and spiritual connotations.

Please don't just stop here, there is rich material for something really special to develop.

Best wishes,

Wally

Thank you for your comments. It is still a working progress and I haven't come up with a title. It is very difficult to gain a balance between English and Signed supported English. I am making this a long term project until I get it right because I want readers to not read in the way expect or think is logically correct grammatically, because in many cases it actually detracts away from tangible aspects of the way deafness affects people. Yet still be able to stretch their imagination in a different way. The capitals in one of the verses actually symbolises BSL which demonstrates the words you read is actually part of their language.
However, I actually agree with all your comments and I do write using a story like my poem "butterflies of forgiveness". But I am trying to form a new way of expression and perhaps in a way we can analyse this. It does seem like a shopping list and yes I actually prefer my comments which is my natural way of writing abit flowery for men I guess .
At the same time I must still write something that both parties can relate to. Deaf people do not use words like the, to, if etc yet can still comprehend a whole story with subtleties without the use of those words. Their imagination and own form of logic does this for them.

I know it sounds complicated - I like a challenge: I am not called Random or eccentric for nothing. I appreciate any comments + or - I am willing to sweat cry and scream to get this one right. T.S Eliot took many criticism and editing before "The Wasteland" gained any appreciation. I am finding it very hard to get that balance between the two worlds that I live in. I don't want to alienate either, we live in the world of equality.

[Antcliff]

I want to know more about the deaf and the blind and how these cloths manifest in their world. Please don't just stop here, there is rich material for something really special to develop.

I very much agree with Wally. Work in progress, yes, but a very interesting one. I do look forward to seeing more of this.
A project of writing poetry that reflects the way deafness affects language and appreciation of language is a wonderful one. Bravo for even thinking about taking it on.

Ant.

[Lake]

That's a grand idea, Victoria. I do want to know their world through your pen. But I have to admit I didn't recognize this is abut the deaf untill I read your notes which as others say are beautiful. Maybe you can give a hint in the title? I really look forward to the completion of your project.

Best,
Lake

[Alucinary]

Victoria,

Such an interesting idea and such an unfortunate shame that I did not realise what it was until I read the preceeding comments re-reading a second time I appriciate it a massive amount more, though must admit that I still find it pretty hard going the second time... I don't think I will be any good in helping you with your intended project as this is a direction of writing which does not fit my style of reading (or writing)

Your reflecting notes however are an entirely different story! Take those as they lie and present them separately and I think you have a winner I love the contrasting imagery between the stanzas and how the metaphoric description is maintained. Also the lines flow much more naturally so I find it a pleasure to read (understanding of course you didn't intend the previous set to do this but it suits me much better). If I had to pick a flaw it would be the one line "as eyes closed drama dances" which seems to have too many sylables and break away from the rest of the flow - perhaps something more like "as delicate drama dances"?

Alucinary.