Fog

[Bombadil]

I wish I could see fog like Eliot did—
a romantic confusion, a muddled
yellow distraction.

I think oblivion must love me,
it keeps rubbing up against—
trying to take me with it, by
offering me forgettable dandies
emotive cotton candies: sweet
and superfluous
empty and useless.

But hey. No self indulgent shtick.

I lit a cigarette and took a walk,

then,

I saw life as it were, through a cracked lens,
or at least spied a meadow through stolen
glasses. I mugged the peeping tom and took them
so perhaps I could see why he was wanking
in the weeds.

Should’ve known better than to question
that at
a rest stop.

Evidently we’d both stepped out to take a quick puff on a faggot...

[pseud]

The shape helps this one in my opinion. Unique line breaks. You've written some good stuff lately Keith, good for you.

Good poem on self-indulgence. The language takes a turn in the second part (after "then,") transition from glasses you've found to glasses you've stolen, to the glasses of a perverted peeping tom, to the cigarette, reverting back to the image of the middle and fog- beginning.

my favorite section:

offering me forgettable dandies
emotive cotton candies: sweet
and superfluous
empty and useless.

Very well done.

- Caleb

[Ray Trivedi]

I thought the American spelling of faggot was fagot which is in keeping with the original old French fagot. Why the UK way of spelling Bombadil? You boycotting French fries or what?

[Bombadil]

Nope. I've always spelled it faggot.

Scots-Irish roots you know.

I love the French, their Minister Domestique came on today and blithely dismissed claims that the recent upheavals in Paris were riots. They could not be riots, since "nobody died." I ask you, who else has that kind of class?

-K.

[k-j]

Happy new year to all! Bonhomie! etc etc! Great first stanza; "did" chimes with "muddled" and "confusion" with "distraction" and more to the point, it speaks to me. Then what next? "I think oblivion must love me" sounds like a Counting Crows lyric, which isn't a good thing in a poem; I think the rhyme of "dandies" and "candies" is too obvious - maybe make it a half rhyme? "Shtick" and "walk" work well together, and the three one-line stanzas really whack home their point - nice one. Then "I saw life..." stanza is a bit too prog rock for my liking - the big metaphor with the voyeur doesn't say anything you couldn't have said more briefly and more poetically. Don't think the (supposed - see later) pun on faggot works either, because of the "evidently" - you've already disavowed self-indulgence, so this seems like an indulgence of your thoughts as the poet. Evidently to you maybe, but not to us - we hadn't a clue you were having a smoke. Finally, I'm a bit confused by the punchline - "faggot" might mean a homo or a lump of wood, but nothing else - what are you trying to get across here? "Fag" for ciggie is fine, but "faggot" is unheard of.

Happy NY in CA,

KJ

p.s.

I thought the American spelling of faggot was fagot which is in keeping with the original old French fagot.

How about just once, you try and offer a critique of a poem, rather than a boring one-liner plucked from VIth form English class? Reading you is a fate worse than being mauled by a moulting mastodon.

p.p.s. rather drunk; sorry.

[barrie]

I must agree with pseud about this one. The first two verses were particularly striking, probably because 'Prufrock' is one of my favourites. Oblivion rubbing up against you, like Eliot's fog rubbing its muzzle on the window panes - I like that analogy. I think that the rhyming of candies and dandies is perfectly justified here, there are times when obvious rhymes are needed - I found it quite fitting.

The totally different form of the next main verse changed the mood of the poem which was enhanced by the 'cigarette' line - Time to think.

I still don't understand the final line - I am as bemused as k-j with the 'faggot' thing.

Still, another good one.

cheers

"In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo."

[Dakeyras]

When looking up the definitions of the term faggot this is what i found:

Definitions of faggot:

ornament or join (fabric) by faggot stitch; "He fagotted the blouse for his wife"
fasten together rods of iron in order to heat or weld them
fagot: offensive terms for an openly homosexual man
bind or tie up in or as if in a faggot; "faggot up the sticks"
fagot: a bundle of sticks and branches bound together

A faggot is a kind of pork meatball, a traditional dish in parts of the UK, especially Wales and the Black Country. It was originally made from unwanted off-cuts of meat (typically a blend of sausage meat and offal, especially Liver).

In modern American and Canadian usage faggot or fag is a generally pejorative term for gay men. The origins of the word in this sense have been clouded by mythology.

A faggot is an archaic imperial unit applied to collections of stick

in homophobic usage, a slang term of abuse denoting (in general) a gay man, but connoting (in particular) the gender image of male wimpiness or effeminacy. In the rhetoric of Gay Liberation, it has been reappropriated as a term of pride signifying a gay man who openly defies the conventionally shameful implications of the term. Some people think that the use of the term derives from the medieval practice of burning sodomites at the stake using bundles of sticks called faggots.

a stack of spilt and salted cod-fish at various stages of the drying process.


So to puff on a faggot in one term could mean to give a gay man oral pleasure, or, even though there is no definition above, a diminutive of faggot could be fag, which is British slang for a cigarette. None of the other definitions seem to match the terminology used.

[pseud]

Dak -

I can see Keith grinning that his poem has started an in-depth discussion on the many renderings of the word "faggot."

[pseud]

p.s. Ray Trivedi wrote:
I thought the American spelling of faggot was fagot which is in keeping with the original old French fagot.

How about just once, you try and offer a critique of a poem, rather than a boring one-liner plucked from VIth form English class? Reading you is a fate worse than being mauled by a moulting mastodon.

p.p.s. rather drunk; sorry.

k-j - At least Ray comments, there are others who put up poetry and don't comment at all. What he says in his comments are his business - if people give one-liners, they tend to get one-liners in return. He's been tarred and feathered enough this week (along with an innocent mastodon?), how about we ease up a bit? I was a far more annoying newbie and look at me now..---wait, bad example. All the same, I didn't recieve this kind of treatment.

- Caleb

[ki no sei]

I had no idea that's how Eliot saw fog, and reading this am none the wiser. I can visualise it as a muddled yellow distraction but not as a romantic confusion. The latter needs furhter illustration.

"it keeps rubbing up against" is incomplete, ergo, incohesive.

I like "forgettable dandies, emotive cotton candies: sweet and superfluous, empty and useless."

Let your reader figure out you're no self-indulgent shtick.

"I saw life....etc" is inquisitive. Brilliant in its simplicity.

[Bombadil]

grinning indeed I am.

the poor mastodon.

you guys had time and hangovers this morning, didn't you?

Cheers (with a particular nod for drunken wit to kj),

K.

Glad to have struck a nerve with the Counting Crows and homophobic terminology afficionados. Gave me a tickle.