Dance child

[Ros]

Your leaves wait, quiescent,
yet in them I see the yearning
for the trees’ canticle through rising mist,
the quilted twilight
when the stove fades.
Your workdays should be screamed
into the gallery, whispered
to the silent creditors of the street.

You squat, poised,
straight spined geisha fixed
beyond the greyness of the dusty airfield.
Dead rosebuds bracket you,
half-jewels dangle
from the roughened stranglehold.

Fealties are common
in this crutch of earthwork; feel it splotch
and crack, a bromide thinness.
You payoff, look back into the misuse
and see the past, marks where your forebears
slipped and hung like cassocks
over emptiness.


~

[Lovely]

Love you.

You are finding you.

Nice work, Ros.

[Lovely]

If I may........http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICpxgxTh ... re=related

Jimmy Page hit me here, nearly killed me, but never mind the Sun Will shine.

Loads of Love ever, and always. From (my) old days Ros.

(62) of memory in --------my shoulder still hurts - love him though.

Love this (Page) he is a fantastic guy. We were all crazy and still are-

Ros.

x

[Ros]

Thanks, lovely. Enigmatic as usual, I have no idea why a video of Layla is appropriate at this point.

Ros

[Marc]

Hmm, wondering if Lovely was at a drug lunch recently...

Like the language particularly 'the quilted twilight when the stove fades' ..' screamed into the gallery, whispered to the silent creditors of the street'. But I'm not in all honesty sure I'm 'getting' it. I've interpreted it as describing an old tree in an urban area...(and can explain reasons for that interpretation throughout) but am I way off the mark and missing something that is clear to others?!

Marc

[dillingworth]

interesting. my initial reading would be that this is a poem about ecology, time and decay and focuses on a tree. but that doesn't sit with the title. my interpretation for what it's worth:

Your leaves wait, quiescent, it's autumn: the leaves are dormant
yet in them I see the yearning
for the trees’ canticle through rising mist, first of a few religious references: slightly wordsworthy reference to nature as temple perhaps? i also like the implied image of the mist as incense. yearning for spring when the trees are singing?
the quilted twilight
when the stove fades. i can see quilted twilight, based on cloud patterns. again perhaps the tree looks to a time when man (using stoves, ironically perhaps wood burning!) is active in the wilderness again.
Your workdays should be screamed
into the gallery, whispered
to the silent creditors of the street. not sure but if we're talking about a tree here "workdays" could be the lifespan within which the tree's wood is of value? in which case are you saying the period in which the tree is of value (spiritually) should be shouted to the gallery of the (ecological) church whilst concealing its baser, economic value from traders etc?

You squat, poised,
straight spined geisha fixed
beyond the greyness of the dusty airfield. the tree's position. i thought given the reference to geisha we could be talking a pale oriental species but my ability to classify further is limited!
Dead rosebuds bracket you, dead rosebuds nicely echoes the image of a fixed, immobile and possibly dead geisha
half-jewels dangle again something the geisha might wear - extending a metaphor
from the roughened stranglehold.

Fealties are common
in this crutch of earthwork; feel it splotch
and crack, a bromide thinness. another reference to the land possibly being poisoned? to echo the airfield nearby?
You payoff, look back into the misuse
and see the past, marks where your forebears this feels like a phrase turned upside down - i'd expect "look back into the past and see misuse". the fact that you've switched them around cleverly emphasises the never ending misuse of nature
slipped and hung like cassocks
over emptiness.another lovely image from the church - the priests have gone home and have left their cassocks hanging up, just as the living trees have died and left their empty shells behind.

[Marc]

Ahh, the plot thickens...
I saw this as follows:

[quote]Your leaves wait, quiescent,
yet in them I see the yearning
for the trees’ canticle through rising mist, (agreed - Autumn, the tree yearns for spring -its hymn expressed through growth and vibrancy. Autumn: season of mists etc.)
the quilted twilight
when the stove fades. (again yearning for spring when the use of the stove will fade - maybe...)
Your workdays should be screamed
into the gallery, whispered
to the silent creditors of the street. (hmm, 'workdays' for a tree - the act of respiration takes place high up in the tree - in front of the gallery of upstairs windows in an urban street perhaps. Down at street level the trees voice is a whisper to the creditors - perhaps the beneficiaries of the carbon/oxygen exchange although this would surely make them debtors?)

You squat, poised,
straight spined geisha fixed (just a description of the tree squatting in an urban setting. Perhaps the comparison to a geisha indicates the trees presence as a decorative emblem in an urban setting? Also Geisha equals image of bound feet and restriction)
beyond the greyness of the dusty airfield. (descriptive of location -is there a deeper meaning?)
Dead rosebuds bracket you, (presumably a struggling rose planted at the base of the tree - not uncommon- but indicating a lack of love in the trees environment)
half-jewels dangle (references the decaying rosebuds whose original intention was to decorate the trunk of the tree)
from the roughened stranglehold.

Fealties are common
in this crutch of earthwork; feel it splotch
and crack, a bromide thinness. (Fealty - an oath of allegiance. Between the rose and the tree companions: in a battle for survival? Bromide thiness. Perhaps refers to pollution in such a setting but also of course Bromide was used to prevent sexual desire/ the desire to procreate. Such a polluted environment would have a similar effect on the virilty of nature)
You payoff, look back into the misuse
and see the past, marks where your forebears slipped and hung like cassocks
over emptiness. (Not sure about the payoff, but is this not the tree considering the plight of it's forebears... Hmm, need to think further about this one. I do like the cassock image very much 'though. Perhaps there were four bears who slipped out of the tree?!)
As my daughter would say "it's all good"
Marc

[thoke]

I'm not really sure what's going on in this poem. I thought it might be about a sapling. There is some good stuff here, but it's all a bit too cryptic for me.

Ben

[Sharra]

Ros, this feels much more lyrical than your usual style, and I enjoyed the read.
I have to be honest, I really don't know what is going on here, but actually this is one where I don't think it matters (so I'm not going to torture a meaning from it). It feels more like its a poem that needs the reader to enage with it rather than it's a failing of the poem. I think with a little polish this could be great.

I loved some of the language you used, 'trees canticle....quilted twilight' just rolls off the tongue.
The only bit that jarred me a little was 'when your workdays should be screamed...' to the end of that stanza. I think it's because it conjured up images of concrete street for me, which felt too artificial, more so than the 'dusty airfield' strangely.

I suppose the only benefit I can see with you explaining the meaning to us, is that if we knew what you were aiming for, we may be able to help more with the spit n polish of it. But that could destroy some of the mysticism.
Sharra
xx

[BenJohnson]

Are you playing with n+ again Some lovely phrases, but the whole doesn't gel for me

[Ros]

Thanks all, particularly dill and marc for trying so hard to decode this one. It's actually more about the geisha than the tree, but perhaps that isn't working so well. It was rather experimental, focusing more on the images and sounds rather than clear meaning. Perhaps I haven't quite got the knack yet

[brianedwards]

Read this quite a few times now Ros and there are some terrific lines. I think you might be closer to achieving your aims than you think.
Your opening is not doing you any favours though, nor is your title. How about this: nix the first 5 lines of S1 and make the rest of S1 the last stanza? I think it allows the reader a better way into the poem, via the geisha, and builds toward something. Let me show you:

You squat, poised,
straight spined geisha fixed
beyond the greyness of the dusty airfield.
Dead rosebuds bracket you,
half-jewels dangle
from the roughened stranglehold.

Fealties are common
in this crutch of earthwork; feel it splotch
and crack, a bromide thinness.
You payoff, look back into the misuse
and see the past, marks where your forebears
slipped and hung like cassocks
over emptiness.

Your workdays should be screamed
into the gallery, whispered
to the silent creditors of the street.


Or, condense the tea leaves lines a little, ditch the yearning (ugh) the intrusive 1st person and the obfuscatory canticle and make the last stanza:

Your leaves wait
for the quilted twilight
when the stove fades.
Your workdays should be screamed
into the gallery, whispered
to the silent creditors of the street.




Nearly there Ros, just needs mixing up a bit I feel.

Just my thoughts.

B.

~

[Ros]

Kind and useful words, thanks, Brian. I'm a bit pushed for time this week but will get back into the depths of things next week, I hope.

Ros