Some mornings

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Ros
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Wed Jul 07, 2010 11:31 am

each moment is too long
and traffic rips serenity
like tissued gloves
from the hands of bystanders.
Whirls of grey swirl before your shoes
somehow tripping, making strides too wide
or short, never matching kerb or
dip. Your fingers grip the bag
as though to hide the self
zipped in its pockets, a place
where rules are understood. The sky
is stained with others’ marker penned instructions.
You never get to read past number one,
your gaze pre-sliced as if the light were collaged
from magazines by college students, its message
obsolete before the glue is dry.
A scent of council-planted jasmine
floats above the diesel. You grab
a rope and swing aboard.



edit: removed contemporary and so moved l15 up.

<thanks to Brian for the inspiration>
Rosencrantz: What are you playing at? Guildenstern: Words. Words. They're all we have to go on.
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Nash

Wed Jul 07, 2010 1:44 pm

Hello Ros,

I enjoyed this one. I presume that the lower case start to the first line is deliberate, to drop you straight into the action, it works very well. The first eleven lines are wonderful, good rythm and some lovely internal rhymes to keep it moving along, but lines twelve to seventeen don't really seem to match, in my opinion, they seem a little 'flabby' in comparison to the tightness of the first eleven. It seems to rejoin itself in the last three lines and I love the last line.
Ros
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Wed Jul 07, 2010 2:04 pm

<counts lines> Thanks, Nash, that's very helpful. I think I might remove the 'contemporary'.
Rosencrantz: What are you playing at? Guildenstern: Words. Words. They're all we have to go on.
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clarabow
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Wed Jul 07, 2010 3:47 pm

Ros, I just wonder if you have added too much detail and thus rob the poem of its force. These are only suggestions re culling and stanza breaks so if it works - if not just ignore. I didn't have so much of a problem with the second half - and like the end.

each moment is too long
(and) traffic rips serenity
like tissued gloves.
(from the hands of bystanders.)

Whirls of grey swirl before your shoes
somehow tripping, making strides too wide
or short, never matching kerb or
dip. Your fingers grip the bag
as though to hide the self
zipped inTO its pockets, (a place
where rules are understood.)

The sky is stained with (others’)
marker pen (ned) instructions.
You never get to read past number one,
your gaze pre-sliced as if the light were collaged
from magazines (by college students,) its message
obsolete before the glue is dry.

A scent of council-planted jasmine
floats above the diesel. You grab
a rope and swing aboard.
dogofdiogenes
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Wed Jul 07, 2010 9:17 pm

Hi Ros,

I liked this and feel that there is a lot you could do with it. My feeling now, when I am about to go to bed, is that you should try and relax with it a bit. If I had that many sense impressions in the mornings I'd have a nervous breakdown before I got to the car. Sorry no more now-need bed.

Thanks
jacq :D
I never give explanations-Mary Poppins (Management in the NHS-rewritten by Nightingale F,. original by Hunt,.G)
BenJohnson
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Wed Jul 07, 2010 9:46 pm

I'm going to comment just so that you know this isn't being neglected. At first read it sounded great but made little sense to me, I'm on my fourth read and gradually a picture of the morning is drifting into focus. The last line totally threw me on first read, but now I am reading it as boarding a bus or something similar. Having a good time with this one.
Arian
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Wed Jul 07, 2010 10:18 pm

Sorry, Ros, you know how much I admire your work as a rule, but this one isn’t clicking for me, I’m afraid. I’m not 100% sure why, but – having thought about it for a while – I think it’s because it’s trying too hard, if that makes any sense. With the exception of “The sky is stained etc” which is terrific, the other images seem to me to be contrived and strained, somehow. To me, there’s an un-ros-like falsity about it, a self-conscious sense of metaphor which doesn’t quite convince. But you know me – I talk rubbish most of the time.

Another small (and negative, sorry) point – l5. Nice sonics, but isn’t swirling what whirls do? Isn’t this just repetition?

I like the idea of the piece, but with the advantage of having read a lot of your stuff, I feel comfortable with the conclusion that this one may not be destined for the Best of Ros Anthology. Yet. It could be revised.
Cheers
peter
brianedwards
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Thu Jul 08, 2010 1:25 am

Ros wrote:

<thanks to Brian for the inspiration>

I'm going to savour that line a little longer before I comment on the poem . . .

(btw: my pleasure :wink: )

B.

~
brianedwards
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Thu Jul 08, 2010 2:10 am

And, was this a coincidence?
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Thu Jul 08, 2010 9:19 am

Hi Ros,
It's interesting, I felt I immediately understood this one on the first read - depression, basically, being out of sync and a difficult state of mind, and hiding in pockets. I particularly like the:
tissued gloves, gaze pre-sliced, the collage idea, the council jasmine - I mean pretty much all of it works for me.

I would say the thing to do with this is comb it and make sure everything is being said with the utmost economy.
i.e

Your fingers grip the bag
as though to hide the self
zipped in its pockets

Could that be said more economically?

megan.
ray miller
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Thu Jul 08, 2010 5:56 pm

Does a good job of evocating a certain mood.
I found these lines hard to swallow:
and traffic rips serenity
like tissued gloves
from the hands of bystanders.

Trying too hard to be poetic, perhaps.

Whirls of grey swirl before your shoes
somehow tripping, making strides too wide
or short, never matching kerb or
dip. Your fingers grip the bag
as though to hide the self
zipped in its pockets, a place
where rules are understood.

too wide or too short, I'd prefer. I loved the next few lines but " a place where rules are understood" seems a bit superfluous.
"others' marker penned instructions" is a bit ungainly, much as I admire the rest of the poem, especially the council-planted jasmine, I find "your gaze pre-sliced" jars ever so much on me.
I'm out of faith and in my cups
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
Ros
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Thu Jul 08, 2010 6:19 pm

You've probably all given this more attention than it deserves, but your thoughts are all appreciated. I've had my head sunk in databases for a few weeks now and felt as if I'd never write anything again, so when I managed this I was quite relieved. A pity it's actually rather rubbish! I think Peter hit it on the head when he said I was trying too hard. I think I might have the basis of something here, but I need to unravel it. I'll take all your comments on board and see what happens. Thanks.

Ros
Rosencrantz: What are you playing at? Guildenstern: Words. Words. They're all we have to go on.
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brianedwards
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Fri Jul 09, 2010 6:10 am

Admirable to see a writer demanding high standards of themselves, but I think you're being a little harsh Ros. I've certainly read a lot worse recently!
I look forward to a revision, and to much more from your pen!

B.
Ros
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Fri Jul 09, 2010 8:34 am

Thanks for the encouragement, Brian. I have another half poem now so perhaps the dry spell is over.
Rosencrantz: What are you playing at? Guildenstern: Words. Words. They're all we have to go on.
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BenJohnson
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Fri Jul 09, 2010 8:46 am

I second the harshness there is a narrative in there and not so obscured by words that the reader can't pick it out. I have enjoyed popping back to read and reread each time taking something away with me that I didn't find in the last read. Maybe one to put aside and revisit later on with a different view on it.
Ros
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Fri Jul 09, 2010 6:32 pm

I will, thanks, Ben.
Rosencrantz: What are you playing at? Guildenstern: Words. Words. They're all we have to go on.
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Lovely
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Fri Jul 09, 2010 10:38 pm

Nice one Ross. Shows that feeling inside of you here

You can write nice when you keep control. You move well through these elements of shoe
tapping. It's lovely to know how it flows out of you freely when you are You freely Ross

What I like about it is the honesty which strikes me down dead-bolt. Feelings O' feelings

You can write .....and I like it. You can dance.
Lovely
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Sun Jul 11, 2010 2:46 pm

You can rip Ross. I placed this to a Satriani melody ( and it funked)

you can write. Every beat seemed balanced to Joe
Sharra
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Sun Jul 11, 2010 3:41 pm

Hi Ros
I enjoyed reading this, you have some great images in here, but I agree with others who have said it feels a little too much and maybe trying too hard. The essence is working, it just feels like an early draft that needs to be stripped back.
Sharra
x
It is at the edge of the
petal that love waits
Ros
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Mon Jul 12, 2010 8:29 am

Thanks lovely, Sharra. I'll sit on this for a bit and then come back to it.

Ros
Rosencrantz: What are you playing at? Guildenstern: Words. Words. They're all we have to go on.
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