Night driving (edit)

[Sulpicia]

(slightly edited)
Sliding into the dark,
you must not look into the light:
it's dazzling and it draws you.
Your hands falter and start to turn.
Instead you must learn not to look,
to bury your eyes in the edge of the road,
in the darkest puddles of nothingness.
So I go on without your words,
and learn not to look for you
but hold back, steer straight and hope.
Beyond the brief head-lights' reach
I cannot see:
perhaps there is an enormous beast,
an impossible corner,
or the road simply ceases to be,
so that I
just drive right into the black
and disappear.

(original)
Plunging into the dark,
you must not look into the light:
it's dazzling and it draws you.
Your hands falter and start to turn.
Instead you must learn not to look,
to bury your eyes in the edge of the road,
in the darkest pools of nothingness.
So I learn not to look for you
but hold back, steer straight and hope.
Beyond the brief head-lights' reach
I cannot see:
perhaps there is an enormous beast,
an impossible corner,
or the road simply ceases to be,
so that I
just drive right into the black
and disappear.

[ray miller]

Very good, some nice little rhymes in there.I like the darkest pools of nothingness. One thing you could do, I suppose, is finish on "so that I" and disappear, just like that.

[Sulpicia]

Thanks, Ray. Nice conceit. Made me smile!
Helen

[Mic]

Hi Helen,

I found this quite dull, mainly I think because both the language and the concept seem worn (plunging into darkness, driving in the dark, dark pools, nothingness). I was also knocked off course by the image of eyeballs being buried at the side of the road.

Sorry I'm not able to be more positive in my response.

Michaela

[brianedwards]

Hi Helen,

I found this quite dull, mainly I think because both the language and the concept seem worn (plunging into darkness, driving in the dark, dark pools, nothingness). I was also knocked off course by the image of eyeballs being buried at the side of the road.

Sorry I'm not able to be more positive in my response.

Michaela

Ditto.

Kris wrote something on a similar theme a while ago I remember, and what made that poem so effective was its use of personal details. That's the only way to make well-worn tropes fresh . . . I'll try dig it up.

B.

~

[brianedwards]

Found it!

Late Road Advice

B.

~

[Sulpicia]

Thanks for reading it, and sorry you found it dull. It is rather negative, I quite agree.

Thank you for the link, Brian. Very enjoyable, if quite different (of course).

Been away for a while, but I've got a flavour of the current mood in the last week or so. Just wondering, as a matter of interest, what it seems I'm going on about? I'd tend to equate well-worn with obvious, but I guess well-worn and obscure can also be happy bedfellows (along with derivative and hyperbolic).

cheers
Helen

[Lovely]

instead of the albatross my head was hung
like a one in lonley seas
you will or can't, or can't. or know, my inner me

[Arian]

Just wondering, as a matter of interest, what it seems I'm going on about?

Well, I guess it's a metaphor/allegory for something. But what? Something to do with coping with life’s journey etc, I guess. Most of my theories based on the first half are torpedoed by the second half.

Actually, I like the second half quite a lot – from Beyond..., which could be a piece on it’s own, in my view. But I have to agree with others that some of the images in first part lack freshness. The theme itself, if it's about what I think it is, is a pretty tough one. Sorry to add the the negative voices, Helen.

Cheers
peter

[Tamara Beryl Latham]

Helen wrote:

Sliding into the dark,
you must not look into the light:
it's dazzling and it draws you.
Your hands falter and start to turn.
Instead you must learn not to look,
to bury your eyes in the edge of the road,

***shouldn't it be "on" the edge. The way it reads you are actually burying your eyes in the road. Maybe something like
"focus my eyes on the edge of the road."

in the darkest puddles of nothingness.
So I learn not to look for you
but hold back, steer straight and hope.
Beyond the brief head-lights' reach
I cannot see:
perhaps there is an enormous beast,
an impossible corner,
or the road simply ceases to be,
so that I
just drive right into the black
and disappear.

I can picture myself driving. The language makes the reader feel as if he/she were there.

Other than what I've mentioned above, I can't find any fault. Nicely done, Helen.

Best,

Tamara

[Sulpicia]

Thanks, guys. That does help: I've obviously failed to communicate, which is ironic, since that is what the poem is meant to be about (I think) though I wouldn't want to foreclose too much.
'Burying in' is deliberate: like the ostrich, with a funereal tone, possibly some wandering eyeballs too.
Helenx

[brianedwards]

The metaphor much clearer now Helen. Nicely revised.

[Tamara Beryl Latham]

Helen wrote:

'Burying in' is deliberate: like the ostrich, with a funereal tone, possibly some wandering eyeballs too.

***Helen is the light, the light one sees, just prior to dying. I've seen this with people who have had near death experiences, and they state the light draws them in. If one did not choose to die, he may avoid looking into that light deliberately. The voice may be the voice of God, and perhaps you are about to have a car accident, or you've had one and your car is swerving, and you're attempting to keep it on the road, but there is a bend or something up ahead, and you don't know what's around that turn.

My take: You anticipate being killed, and are determined not to look into the light when you hit or confront whatever is around that turn, or corner.

Think I may need another hint! It's exciting though, attempting to figure these out.

Best,

Tamara

[Ros]

Yes, good revision, much clearer now. The mention of words changes it all!

Ros