Birthday

[emuse]

Birthday

Who knows the birth of a firecracker?
I hear they roasted bamboo to create a sound
loud enough to scare away ghosts. The rods sizzled
and blackened, then popped. At the end
of the Song Dynasty came the first manmade bursts -- gunpowder
in a paper tube until they’d learned to string them

with hemp. Now they could hear them all at once –
the hundred-break crackers crackling in the night,
exciting burn in the heart’s moist chamber.
I was too young for explosions. For me,
there was only longing, a sparkler in the dark,
a flare of fireflies built to last a moment. My small arm

spinning a circle of light, a golden diadem I could wear
like a fairy princess, never knowing dreams escape
as alchemy. That time is not trapped beneath
a crystal dome but humid air, the black snake’s
smoke and hiss as it curls out of the tablet,
a pharaoh’s serpent as we watch charmed

in the alley. My sister kneeling on cement, snapping the paper
roll caps with a sharp rock as our noses stung with sulphur.
We were rockets fired from a glass Coke bottle, pyrotechnic
possibility of flight. It was a joy of country
being born. A belief that beginnings made everything possible,
like light in a mother’s womb.

And I imagined it was all for me, born on a day when the night
splinters with countless shards, aflame in wonder,
unconcerned with what occupies the dark.

[BenJohnson]

I'll read this properly tomorrow, but just a quick reply to say it is great to read your work again.

My sister kneeling on cement, snapping the paper
roll caps with a sharp rock as our noses stung with sulphur.

Brings back some very fond memories.

[coffeedodger]

I really enjoyed reading this. Lots of strong imagery conjouring a nice blend of the wistful, the melancholy and the joyous wonderment of childhood that reaches inside memory and makes it relevant and real.

Rather than pointing out what I like (which is nearly all of it!), I'll just mention a couple of things that don't sit so well in my mind.

'a flare of fireflies built to last a moment'.......the word built seems too concrete and deliberate an image for something so transient and unstructured as the movements of sparklers and fireflies.

'A belief that beginnings made everything possible' is a rather too familiar phrase which adds nothing of interest to the immediately preceding or subsequent lines, which run together as a more concise image.

The other thing is that I always am troubled by poems with what appear to be illogical line breaks, as if the poem has been split into stanzas for cosmetic rather than poetic effect. You do this throughout the piece, but I can't see any poetic reason why, for example,

'a pharaoh’s serpent as we watch charmed

in the alley. My sister kneeling on cement, snapping the paper '

appears like that, rather than like this:

'a pharaoh’s serpent as we watch charmed in the alley.

My sister kneeling on cement, snapping the paper'


All in all though, I see many more positives than negatives in this poem.

[emuse]

I really enjoyed reading this. Lots of strong imagery conjouring a nice blend of the wistful, the melancholy and the joyous wonderment of childhood that reaches inside memory and makes it relevant and real.

Thanks! I'm glad you felt the poem conveyed all those layers.

Rather than pointing out what I like (which is nearly all of it!), I'll just mention a couple of things that don't sit so well in my mind.

'a flare of fireflies built to last a moment'.......the word built seems too concrete and deliberate an image for something so transient and unstructured as the movements of sparklers and fireflies.

Absolutely right. Would a simple "made" do?

'A belief that beginnings made everything possible' is a rather too familiar phrase which adds nothing of interest to the immediately preceding or subsequent lines, which run together as a more concise image.

I'll think about that one. That line ties into the birth of a baby as well as a country. Let me roll that around in my head for awhile

The other thing is that I always am troubled by poems with what appear to be illogical line breaks, as if the poem has been split into stanzas for cosmetic rather than poetic effect. You do this throughout the piece, but I can't see any poetic reason why, for example,

I can understand how you feel. I think it's partly a cultural difference as I believe lines run a longer length across the pond and that they have a more logical end whereas we tend to enjamb a bit more freely with our contemporary poems here. The truth is, this poem has already been accepted for publication and the editor told me she especially liked the breaks so I'd better leave well enough alone

'a pharaoh’s serpent as we watch charmed

in the alley. My sister kneeling on cement, snapping the paper '

appears like that, rather than like this:

'a pharaoh’s serpent as we watch charmed in the alley.

My sister kneeling on cement, snapping the paper'


All in all though, I see many more positives than negatives in this poem.

Thank you for your extremely helpful feedback. I'm going to consider that one line or see if it needs replacement.

Cheers!!

Hey Ben,

Good to see you! Come back when you have time. No worries.

E

[BenJohnson]

I can remember being troubled by your line breaks why back when I first read one of your poems, it very much a feature of your poems and I must admit less troubling now, in fact it leads to a pleasant effect in moments like this

the hundred-break crackers crackling in the night,
exciting burn in the heart’s moist chamber.
I was too young for explosions. For me,

Where we travel from the history of the firecracker to the suddenly personal, there is no stanza break to herald the change in direction and the transition is all the smoother for it.

There are some lovely sharp childhood images in this, the details of firing rockets from glass coke bottle, kneeling on cement hammering away on paper caps, the waving of a sparkler which is the most adults trust young kids with.

Were you really born on the 4th of July?

[Elphin]

hi e

Your usual phrasing and imagery I enjoy. More so I take from this a certain ambiguity - was the invention of firecrackers and gunpower "all for me" and therefore is the poem uplifting or is it the realisation its not "all for me" which is a let down, a feeling of insignificance? A clever balance - let the reader decide.

I notice its already accepted for publication - well done - so I am not sure my main comment will be one you want and perhaps nothing more than personal preference anyway. I was thinking that the stanzas could have been broken into three - the history section ending with "I am too young for explosions", the young girls experience ending "it was a joy" then breaking the stanza to begin the well earned final stanza and ending with "being born".

Other nits - the light in a mothers womb I am finding a tough mental picture. In fact I am wondering if that entire line is too "tell-y" particularly as you have already referenced the "possibility of flight" which without the knowledge of physics could be considered an example of "everything is possible" anyway

What do you think to naming the Chinese in l2? I find "they" so early in the poem a little underwhelming.

It is interesting in your previous response you refer to the different styles of enjambing either side of the pond. You know in the past I have often questioned the length of your lines and the breaks but its almost familiar now. Do you think it is a US/Europe divide?

elph

[clarabow]

This is very fine, but just every now and then the detail feels slightly in the way of the carefully weaved lines and I just wonder if some slight adjustments could enhance this even more? And although I am a great fan of Chinese poetry I wonder if the reference to gunpowder is necessary ? And yes, this does feel like the sort of narrative poem that Du Fu or Li Bai might have written. I am just going to make some minor suggestions (delete) and as always feel free to ignore.

(Who knows the birth of a firecracker?)

I hear they roasted bamboo to create the sound
of a firecracker - loud enough to scare away ghosts.
The rods sizzled and blackened, then popped.
Now THE SONG DYNASTY could hear them all at once –
the hundred-break crackers crackling in the night,


(At the end
of the Song Dynasty came the first manmade bursts -- gunpowder
in a paper tube until they’d learned to string them
with hemp.) - I am just not sure these lines are necessary or adds anything to the poem?
(exciting burn in the heart’s moist chamber.).

I was too young for explosions. For me,
there was only longing, a sparkler in the dark,
a flare of fireflies built to last a moment. My small arm

spinning a circle of light, a golden diadem I could wear
like a fairy princess, never knowing dreams escape
as alchemy. That time is not trapped beneath - as alchemy? Not sure - dreams escape like
a crystal dome but humid air, the black snake’s - here you are mixing your images ?
smoke and hiss as it curls out of the tablet,
a pharaoh’s serpent as we watch charmed - you have snake above?

in the alley. My sister kneeling on cement, snapping the paper
roll caps with a sharp rock as our noses stung with sulphur.
We were rockets fired from a glass Coke bottle, pyrotechnic
possibility of flight. It was a joy of country
being born. A belief that beginnings made everything possible,
like light in a mother’s womb.

And I imagined it was all for me, born on a day when the night
splinters with countless shards, aflame in wonder,
unconcerned with what occupies the dark. - lovely ending.

[ray miller]

Lovely. Many great lines and images, but I especially like:
We were rockets fired from a glass Coke bottle, pyrotechnic possibility of flight.

The only bit I enjoyed less was this :
That time is not trapped beneath
a crystal dome but humid air, the black snake’s
smoke and hiss as it curls out of the tablet,
a pharaoh’s serpent as we watch charmed

in the alley.

One of the things I liked about the poem was its concreteness, its facts, attention to detail. This bit goes wandering off somewhere else.

[coffeedodger]

Glad you didn't take offence at my comments!

I'm sure it is a cultural thing about the line breaks. I hadn't realised you are on the other side! I attend a writing workshop which is run by an American lady and this issue has been raised within the group because she often brings along the work of American rather than British contemporary poets for us to read as examples and for inspiration. Most of the poetry is very good in terms of the content but very often they have this kind of arrangement which to her is normal but to the rest of us is irrational and a bit irritating! Despite saying she has no problem with it or even prefers it (like your publisher) she hasn't been able to give a satisfactory reason WHY it should be that way and why transatlantic poets have taken it upon themselves to take such liberties with the ENGLISH language!! She also has a penchant for poems with no capitalisation and no punctuation, which I also have a lot of trouble accepting because they can be very difficult to read (not knowing when to pause). Again I see no reason for this as it hinders the reader and if poetry is about communicating the essence of a feeling a moment or an emotion, then why do some poets feel the need to make it more difficult by disregarding punctuation completely? Again, she hasn't been able to come up with an answer other than that she (and other Americans) 'prefer it that way'......'well why is that?' I say.....'erm....they just do!' she says.....

Of course it is mostly good natured teasing about the differences between the sterotypical pedantic English mentality as opposed to the free-spirt approach of our cheeky cousins across the pond! Nonetheless without a logical answer to a logical question an English pedant like me is going to feel justified in raising the question again whenever possible!

I have noticed, increasingly, that British poets are adopting this sort of stanza manipulation obviously in response to seeing it being employed over there but available to read over here on the internet. To some extent there are no rules with poetry, or rules that are open to being broken, but personally I have a soft spot for traditional grammatical form even within free verse and I like poems to have a shape that evolves from the poem rather than being contrived from it, but if others prefer it your way and it seems natural to them, sadly I can't really do anything to put a stop to it!!

[brianedwards]

Well, I'll have to be in the minority here I'm afraid . . . I'm really struggling with this E. It reads like a writer imposing poetic intent on a particular situation or idea. I feel no space in these lines, no position which I , as a reader, can negotiate my own way through the poem. Particularly surprising as I have been dazzled often by your ability to engage the reader in exactly that way . . .

There are a number of unnecessary repetitions and over-elaborations:

a sound loud enough to scare away ghosts. The rods sizzled
and blackened, then popped

a sparkler in the dark,
a flare of fireflies built [...] My small arm
spinning a circle of light, a golden diadem

a number of obvious poeticisms:

exciting burn in the heart’s moist chamber

like a fairy princess, never knowing dreams escape
as alchemy.

and some quite clichéd language:

For me,
there was only longing,

countless shards, aflame in wonder,


The poem is at its strongest when it allows the personal aspects to simply be without the baggage of providing some profound revelation.
Taking huge liberties here, but for me the heart of the poem is in these lines:

Who knows the birth of a firecracker?
I hear they roasted bamboo to create a sound
loud enough to scare away ghosts.

I was too young for explosions. For me
there was only a sparkler in the dark,
my small arm spinning a circle of light, my sister

kneeling on cement, snapping paper
roll caps with a sharp rock, our noses stung
with sulphur; or rockets fired

from a glass Coke bottle and a belief
that beginnings made everything possible,
unconcerned with what occupies the dark.



I'm not suggesting you adopt this version at all, just highlighting where I think the poem lies, and how different the poem is if you remove the impulse to amaze.

Not my intention to offend here, but I trust you'd prefer my honesty over my silence.

Regards,

B.

~

[emuse]

I can remember being troubled by your line breaks why back when I first read one of your poems, it very much a feature of your poems and I must admit less troubling now, in fact it leads to a pleasant effect in moments like this

the hundred-break crackers crackling in the night,
exciting burn in the heart’s moist chamber.
I was too young for explosions. For me,

Where we travel from the history of the firecracker to the suddenly personal, there is no stanza break to herald the change in direction and the transition is all the smoother for it.

There are some lovely sharp childhood images in this, the details of firing rockets from glass coke bottle, kneeling on cement hammering away on paper caps, the waving of a sparkler which is the most adults trust young kids with.

Were you really born on the 4th of July?

Thanks Ben! Yes I truly was. Great day to be born here for many reasons--most people never forget your birthday and you always have the holiday off! Appreciate you're read and letting me know what you enjoyed.

[emuse]

Glad you didn't take offence at my comments!

You gave me your opinion in a carefully considered way. How could I be offended? !!

I'm sure it is a cultural thing about the line breaks. I hadn't realised you are on the other side! I attend a writing workshop which is run by an American lady and this issue has been raised within the group because she often brings along the work of American rather than British contemporary poets for us to read as examples and for inspiration. Most of the poetry is very good in terms of the content but very often they have this kind of arrangement which to her is normal but to the rest of us is irrational and a bit irritating! Despite saying she has no problem with it or even prefers it (like your publisher) she hasn't been able to give a satisfactory reason WHY it should be that way and why transatlantic poets have taken it upon themselves to take such liberties with the ENGLISH language!! She also has a penchant for poems with no capitalisation and no punctuation, which I also have a lot of trouble accepting because they can be very difficult to read (not knowing when to pause). Again I see no reason for this as it hinders the reader and if poetry is about communicating the essence of a feeling a moment or an emotion, then why do some poets feel the need to make it more difficult by disregarding punctuation completely? Again, she hasn't been able to come up with an answer other than that she (and other Americans) 'prefer it that way'......'well why is that?' I say.....'erm....they just do!' she says.....

Ha ha the nerve of an American teaching poetry to a group of Brits [smiles] Well you know one way of looking at it is it helps break one of their styles. U.S. poetry is big on eliminating punctuation. I've seen it where it works beautifully (our newest Poet Laureate does this throughout an entire book [W.S. Merwin] whom I happen to love. But it can be done poorly too. I think we can be more careless with grammar and that's one of the downsides but I know many fastidious U.S. poets who pay plenty of attention to it. The good journals here will not publish poems with careless grammar mistakes. As to enjambment, I cite Merwin again as an example. Also Mary Oliver who is I'd say a modern ecstatic poet uses shorter lines to sculpt the mood of the poem and it's very effective. Again, there are poets who mimic this method and simply use shorter lines to create caesura in place of content -- a kind of form over substance. When free verse broke loose in the poetry world, with it (in my opinion) came an an escape from meter and styized form. That doesn't mean anyone should ever do away with our traditional forms of course. In fact there are a group of accomplished poets in the U.S. who are bringing the sonnet back, however modernized.

Good free verse contains form, however loose. I came to PG because I wanted to connect with a more controlled style, to accentuate the elegant through learning the language of others. At the yearly workshop I attend in Mexico we often get some of the best poets from Great Britain as our faculty. With them comes a love of form and a respect for poetry's history. /i]

Of course it is mostly good natured teasing about the differences between the sterotypical pedantic English mentality as opposed to the free-spirt approach of our cheeky cousins across the pond! Nonetheless without a logical answer to a logical question an English pedant like me is going to feel justified in raising the question again whenever possible!

I have noticed, increasingly, that British poets are adopting this sort of stanza manipulation obviously in response to seeing it being employed over there but available to read over here on the internet. To some extent there are no rules with poetry, or rules that are open to being broken, but personally I have a soft spot for traditional grammatical form even within free verse and I like poems to have a shape that evolves from the poem rather than being contrived from it, but if others prefer it your way and it seems natural to them, sadly I can't really do anything to put a stop to it!!

I believe we can take our influences from every corner of the world! I'm reading Arabic Andalusian poetry now which is beautiful and liberating. Every culture has it's particular voice and then there are individuals within--or so it seems! I would not like to see the poetry of the world homogenized. I've been alarmed to find the tendency for popular British pubs. like Magma and Poetry London to echo the kinds of poetry one would find in the states.

[emuse]

Just a bit of a delay before I respond further.....caught up in too much but I shall return!

[dogofdiogenes]

Hi e

There's a lot to say about this but I every time I say I will come back to something I never get round to it-so this is a short comment. I liked it but feel it would be better just as verse about the girl-from the sparkler line onwards. Otherwise it feels like 2 poems in one, or two of a sequence. There's so much in there it's almost too much for me as something gets lost in there. The last bit about the dark is really special, I love it. It balances the entire thing but not in a really sinister way.

Thank you

Jacq

[twoleftfeet]

Hi, E

I almost missed this one.

I think you have re-captured that feeling of genuine wonder we all had as children on seeing our first fireworks, exploding caps,and (especially) you as a toddler waving a sparkler around.
I enjoyed the positivity of the ending and the observation/memory(?) that the child really does believe it is all for her rang a bell of empathy.

My only nits is that, in trying to to shape concise phrases that do not sound prosey you have on occasions gone over the top
IMHO

For instance - the first line
"Who knows the birth of a firecracker?"
- I can't help asking myself who would ever say that?
I'm willing to bet you started with something like "Who knows the origins of a firecracker?" or
"Who can say when the idea of the firecracker was born?"
- then one gets out the scissors and paste..

I would add these:
never knowing dreams escape as alchemy.
- if I had to define alchemy (which tbh I can't ) it would be a process &/or a philosophy. Don't get me wrong, I think I know what you're getting at, but..

We were rockets fired from a glass Coke bottle, pyrotechnic
possibility of flight.

Also, like others, I'm having trouble with
light in a mother’s womb.
- a spark, perhaps?

Anyway, I'll don my tin hat
Geoff

[emuse]

hi e

Your usual phrasing and imagery I enjoy. More so I take from this a certain ambiguity - was the invention of firecrackers and gunpower "all for me" and therefore is the poem uplifting or is it the realisation its not "all for me" which is a let down, a feeling of insignificance? A clever balance - let the reader decide.

Yes you got this exactly right.

I notice its already accepted for publication - well done - so I am not sure my main comment will be one you want and perhaps nothing more than personal preference anyway. I was thinking that the stanzas could have been broken into three - the history section ending with "I am too young for explosions", the young girls experience ending "it was a joy" then breaking the stanza to begin the well earned final stanza and ending with "being born".

It's already in the hopper now so I'll just let it be for the pub. but I'll lay it out your way for my own sake and see how that looks. Thanks Elph!

Other nits - the light in a mothers womb I am finding a tough mental picture. In fact I am wondering if that entire line is too "tell-y" particularly as you have already referenced the "possibility of flight" which without the knowledge of physics could be considered an example of "everything is possible" anyway

Spark perhaps or??? I want to make that connection between hope and birth which was what I was going for. Perhaps it's OTT.

What do you think to naming the Chinese in l2? I find "they" so early in the poem a little underwhelming.

I already define the time period (Song Dynasty) and since the Chinese as a nation did invent firecrackers I'm not sure I can get more specific than that. My research hasn't located anything.

It is interesting in your previous response you refer to the different styles of enjambing either side of the pond. You know in the past I have often questioned the length of your lines and the breaks but its almost familiar now. Do you think it is a US/Europe divide?

I do Elph. Three of my dearest friends are British poets and they tend toward longer lines (and two encourage me to go longer from time to time). I've never had issue with it here so I can only sense that it derives from an original affinity for form. Do you notice this with other U.S. poets who post here or am I the only oddity Thanks as always for your help!

elph

[emuse]

This is very fine, but just every now and then the detail feels slightly in the way of the carefully weaved lines and I just wonder if some slight adjustments could enhance this even more? And although I am a great fan of Chinese poetry I wonder if the reference to gunpowder is necessary ? And yes, this does feel like the sort of narrative poem that Du Fu or Li Bai might have written. I am just going to make some minor suggestions (delete) and as always feel free to ignore.

(Who knows the birth of a firecracker?)

I hear they roasted bamboo to create the sound
of a firecracker - loud enough to scare away ghosts.
The rods sizzled and blackened, then popped.
Now THE SONG DYNASTY could hear them all at once –
the hundred-break crackers crackling in the night,


(At the end
of the Song Dynasty came the first manmade bursts -- gunpowder
in a paper tube until they’d learned to string them
with hemp.) - I am just not sure these lines are necessary or adds anything to the poem?
(exciting burn in the heart’s moist chamber.).

Quite an interesting suggestion for the opening. I'm not sure about placing the Song Dynasty in that penultimate line but you may be right about ditching that first line. Something to ponder.....

I was too young for explosions. For me,
there was only longing, a sparkler in the dark,
a flare of fireflies built to last a moment. My small arm

spinning a circle of light, a golden diadem I could wear
like a fairy princess, never knowing dreams escape
as alchemy. That time is not trapped beneath - as alchemy? Not sure - dreams escape like
a crystal dome but humid air, the black snake’s - here you are mixing your images ?
smoke and hiss as it curls out of the tablet,
a pharaoh’s serpent as we watch charmed - you have snake above?

in the alley. My sister kneeling on cement, snapping the paper
roll caps with a sharp rock as our noses stung with sulphur.
We were rockets fired from a glass Coke bottle, pyrotechnic
possibility of flight. It was a joy of country
being born. A belief that beginnings made everything possible,
like light in a mother’s womb.

And I imagined it was all for me, born on a day when the night
splinters with countless shards, aflame in wonder,
unconcerned with what occupies the dark. - lovely ending.

Thanks kindly for your thoughts on this and for taking the time. This might be a long work in progress. I believe in that. That is, even if a poem is published, I will work on it over time until it feels done...if I care enough about it. I'm not sure I do care about this one enough but time will always tell.

[emuse]

Well, I'll have to be in the minority here I'm afraid . . . I'm really struggling with this E. It reads like a writer imposing poetic intent on a particular situation or idea. I feel no space in these lines, no position which I , as a reader, can negotiate my own way through the poem. Particularly surprising as I have been dazzled often by your ability to engage the reader in exactly that way . . .

There are a number of unnecessary repetitions and over-elaborations:

a sound loud enough to scare away ghosts. The rods sizzled
and blackened, then popped

a sparkler in the dark,
a flare of fireflies built [...] My small arm
spinning a circle of light, a golden diadem

Well I can't go writing Sonnets to Orpheus every day now can I? [wink]. I'll disagree with you here on the repetitions/elaborations. I think it's just that kind of sizzle and pop that gives sensory image to the origins of fireworks. I quite like it

a number of obvious poeticisms:

exciting burn in the heart’s moist chamber

like a fairy princess, never knowing dreams escape
as alchemy.

Yeah that first line may have to go. I quite agree. But re dreams escaping as alchemy...I'll consider that a matter of taste and take yours into account and much appreciated.

and some quite clichéd language:

For me,
there was only longing,

This does not stand on its own of course Brian so language out of context is not a good example of cliche IMO.

countless shards, aflame in wonder,

Yup could be a clunker!

The poem is at its strongest when it allows the personal aspects to simply be without the baggage of providing some profound revelation.
Taking huge liberties here, but for me the heart of the poem is in these lines:

Who knows the birth of a firecracker?
I hear they roasted bamboo to create a sound
loud enough to scare away ghosts.

I was too young for explosions. For me
there was only a sparkler in the dark,
my small arm spinning a circle of light, my sister

kneeling on cement, snapping paper
roll caps with a sharp rock, our noses stung
with sulphur; or rockets fired

from a glass Coke bottle and a belief
that beginnings made everything possible,
unconcerned with what occupies the dark.



I'm not suggesting you adopt this version at all, just highlighting where I think the poem lies, and how different the poem is if you remove the impulse to amaze.

Not my intention to offend here, but I trust you'd prefer my honesty over my silence.

Regards,

B.

~

Not offended in the slightest and I value your opinion. I don't have any attachment to this poem one way or the other. The editor liked it and took it and I let it go. I'll write another ten one day about being born on the 4th of July. It's all good and thanks!

[emuse]

Hi e

There's a lot to say about this but I every time I say I will come back to something I never get round to it-so this is a short comment. I liked it but feel it would be better just as verse about the girl-from the sparkler line onwards. Otherwise it feels like 2 poems in one, or two of a sequence. There's so much in there it's almost too much for me as something gets lost in there. The last bit about the dark is really special, I love it. It balances the entire thing but not in a really sinister way.

Thank you

Jacq

Coolio, thanks Jacq. I like that last part too and appreciate your overall thoughts!

[emuse]

Hi, E

I almost missed this one.

I think you have re-captured that feeling of genuine wonder we all had as children on seeing our first fireworks, exploding caps,and (especially) you as a toddler waving a sparkler around.

I enjoyed the positivity of the ending and the observation/memory(?) that the child really does believe it is all for her rang a bell of empathy.

My only nits is that, in trying to to shape concise phrases that do not sound prosey you have on occasions gone over the top
IMHO

For instance - the first line
"Who knows the birth of a firecracker?"
- I can't help asking myself who would ever say that?
I'm willing to bet you started with something like "Who knows the origins of a firecracker?" or
"Who can say when the idea of the firecracker was born?"
- then one gets out the scissors and paste..

Heh heh well guess what Geoff I DID think of this weird question to start! Yeah I know it's strange but that's what came to mind as I recall. I might toss it as I mention earlier -- but of course that birth of a firecracker relates to moi....

I would add these:
never knowing dreams escape as alchemy.
- if I had to define alchemy (which tbh I can't ) it would be a process &/or a philosophy. Don't get me wrong, I think I know what you're getting at, but..

We were rockets fired from a glass Coke bottle, pyrotechnic
possibility of flight.

Also, like others, I'm having trouble with
light in a mother’s womb.
- a spark, perhaps?

Anyway, I'll don my tin hat
Geoff

Yeah spark works fine. Thanks Geoff. A bit of interesting trivia for all of you:

"The English were also captivated with fireworks, in 1487 fireworks were used at the coronation of Elizabeth of York (bride of Henry VII) - where a “dragon spew out fire into the Thames”. Anne Boleyn also witnessed fireworks at her coronation where the fire masters were described as 'wild men casting fire and making a hideous noise'.

The popularity of fireworks thrived in Great Britain during the sovereignty of Queen Elizabeth I. William Shakespeare mentions fireworks in several of his plays, and fireworks were so much enjoyed by the Queen herself that she created the position of "Fire Master of England" and King James II was so pleased with the fireworks display at his coronation, that he actually knighted his Fire Master."

Cheers!

e

[brianedwards]

some quite clichéd language:

For me,
there was only longing,

This does not stand on its own of course Brian so language out of context is not a good example of cliche IMO.

Yes, you're probably right E. My point is really that the word "longing" is up there with "soul" in terms of poetic cliché, though of course the right context can invigorate even the most tired language.

I long for battery chickens to lay shards
of love in the souls of vegan farmers. --- Yep, that'd do it for me!

This might be a long work in progress. I believe in that. That is, even if a poem is published, I will work on it over time until it feels done...if I care enough about it.

YES! Absolutely agree with that. I've recently been reading Robert Lowell's Collected Poems, and that contains 3 or 4 versions of the same poem that he continued to work on throughout his career, even after they'd appeared in books. A commitment to perfection that I admire!

B.

~

[emuse]

Exactly! And let's not talk about Whitman's Leaves of Grass LOL

[brianedwards]

Exactly! And let's not talk about Whitman's Leaves of Grass LOL

Absolutely! Let's not!

[twoleftfeet]

Heh heh well guess what Geoff I DID think of this weird question to start! Yeah I know it's strange but that's what came to mind as I recall. I might toss it as I mention earlier -- but of course that birth of a firecracker relates to moi....

In that case, E, the answer to the question
"Who knows the birth of the firecracker?"
- is YOUR MOM!

Actually, that kinda explains the point I was trying to make.

Thanks for the interesting snippets from history - we're a bunch of arsonists at heart!

[emuse]

Heh heh well guess what Geoff I DID think of this weird question to start! Yeah I know it's strange but that's what came to mind as I recall. I might toss it as I mention earlier -- but of course that birth of a firecracker relates to moi....

In that case, E, the answer to the question
"Who knows the birth of the firecracker?"
- is YOUR MOM!

Quite right!

Actually, that kinda explains the point I was trying to make.

Thanks for the interesting snippets from history - we're a bunch of arsonists at heart!

Yes...well poets are the greatest arsonists of all....