Poetry Forum

I'm not particularly bothered about the sonnet these days, but I thought I'd revise 'Doing Nothing. Here's the original:

Woke to a fried, despondent egg at eight.
At nine I watched some flies dry hump the wall -
one cumbered shag the plaster won't recall.
A sloppy morning: ambling sun and slate-
like clouds above our broken through estate.
I sloped around my room, and let the drawl
of television drag time to a crawl.
About eleven tried to masturbate.

With nothing done the hour becomes a scene
in tow of what went on: a yellow float
of yoke, the sad attempt at paving stone,
a victim's drained shock on the telly screen:
another sorrow slit right down the throat
from pointed apple round to collar bone.

Underneath is the revision:

A sloppy morning. Woke at half-past eight
to a recumbent sun drearily haul
itself across the sky, while, by the wall
outside, a puppy humps the garden gate.

Breakfast: a slick of butter on a plate
and brown, tired toast. Then Lunch: the maul
of slow hours saturate in telly’s drawl.
About half-one I tried to masturbate.

With not much done the smallest things sustain
the prominent, no matter how remote,
until the prominent's the ringing phone,
a web, a fly, my hair’s not right, it rains.
Something has slit the clouds right round the throat
from adam’s apple down to collar bone.

I was thinking of something Tolstoy said. Allegories are for good news. Bad news makes for stories. Something like that eeling through my cortical synapses.

A sloppy morning. Woke at half-past eight
to a recumbent sun drearily haul

The second line was awkward and looked like it was missing a verb like "watch" or "see".

Breakfast: a slick of butter on a plate
and brown, tired toast. Then Lunch: the maul
of slow hours saturate in telly’s drawl.
About half-one I tried to masturbate.

Line 2-3 above is grammatically shifty. Maul's don't saturate, they bash.

With not much done the smallest things sustain
the prominent, no matter how remote,
until the prominent's the ringing phone,
a web, a fly, my hair’s not right, it rains.
Something has slit the clouds right round the throat
from adam’s apple down to collar bone.

Maybe try a more active turn of phrase, like, "Something slits the clouds..."

I don't know if I'd call this "Dull" or "Depressed." Were you reading something by Sylvia Plath? She could do that to you. She could leave an echo in your brain that said, "Aw, another fucking boring day as I contemplate queuing for the dole, the sunlight through the rolling scarving clouds a rancid, yellow skidmark in my trousers, another fucking borking day clogs up the drain so pass the Drano and the plunger, please..."

I was thinking, "Prozac, anyone?"

Edit: You may be thinking I didn't like it, but I did like portions and think you have something to work with. I just let my thoughts get pulled into a digression. I'm not sure whether I preferred parts of the previous version more. Replacing the flies shagging the wall with the dog shagging the gate was an improvement (actually, reminded me of something out of an Alan Ginsberg poem, to the the dog in the street Governor Brown's leg is just another fire hydrant). I did prefer the sonnet form of the previous version. The expression was less awkward.

Cheers for the attention Gene,

You've confirmed my suspicions that this is a woefully unimpressive piece that doesn't deserve the forum's time. I was thinking about it all of yesterday, and that was the conclusion that sprang to mind! It's messy, forced, and, and this is what you noticed, follows that terrible factor of 'being boring because the subject is boring'.

Saturate here is an adjective, so I think the maul bit works (but should the preposition following with 'with' and not 'in'? hmmm).

I like the suggestion of 'Something slits', but cannot change due to metre.

I haven't read any Plath yet, no. I intend to, but the stuff that I have tasted has been a bit uninspiring. But she's a necessary read, isn't she!

Anyway, thanks very much for your time. I shouldn't really be posting this reply beause it will, unfortunately, push the poem up to the top of the board -- instead, let's just let this thing sink.
Dave

Wabznasm wrote:Cheers for the attention Gene,

You've confirmed my suspicions that this is a woefully unimpressive piece that doesn't deserve the forum's time. I was thinking about it all of yesterday, and that was the conclusion that sprang to mind! It's messy, forced, and, and this is what you noticed, follows that terrible factor of 'being boring because the subject is boring'.

Dave

Dave,
I think it's more a case of "depression is depressing".
I am a Richar dThompson fan - one of his best songs is "End of the rainbow" IMHO but I never play it because it
is wrist-slltting stuff! I hope you see where I'm coming from here.

Wabznasm wrote:Saturate here is an adjective, so I think the maul bit works (but should the preposition following with 'with' and not 'in'? hmmm).

Dave

I can't get my head around the grammar or the image - Howzabout "marinates/marinade"?

I don't think it's half as bad as you think, but it's relentlessly downbeat so you can't be surprised if people shy away from it

GeoffI

Dave

I tend to agree with Geoff - not half bad but an offputting subject.

I think you have captured the dreariness in s1 and s2 - s3 is still a trouble, in fact not necessarily all of it maybe just l3 and l4 they feel contrived. I think you were on to something with the TV - isn't that our refuge on a dull day so that we feel we are doing something?

This one may need to marinade a bit longer

elphin

There's nothing wrong with writing poetry about the dullness of certain situations, especially when they're dull. The trick is to capture the dullness without being dull. That's why I said I think you have something to work with. Some of your lines work well while others don't take off. If it were a souffle, it rose unevenly.

Likewise depression. The subject matter will inevitably be depressing, but handling it with deft turns of phrase, image, and metaphor can make it work as well as make it bearable. Your effort partly got there, but here and there it staggered. It's salvageable.

The split between writer and written is always a funny one, especially since I'm quite busy and happy at the mo. Still, thanks for the attention everyone. This may brew or just be binned because it's had a particularly drawn-out exegesis (this is, hmmm, the 9th revision?); I will, however, salvage the final couplet because that was what this emerged from anyway.

Again, ta to everyone. I save all my work, so you never know, this may pop up in a year.

Dave

I still quite like the octet of the first version, Dave. The sestet seems a bit glib, but I wouldn't abandon the thing altogether.

Cheers

David