The world is softened to a baby's crib.
Not yet the black ice, not yet the glib
complaints and ill-fulfilled wishes,
not yet ice-trapped garden fishes.
Just now it's plain, unbroken beauty;
just here, just now, our joy seems free,
a surprise gift from God, so plain to see,
as clean, like snow, as any gift could be.
***
Unlooked for, like a tax rebate,
surprising like a death at work
and good news like Swanny
ripping it off the pitch at Adelaide.
This is you two: Chico and Harpo,
the rest of the act, small change
making up the right amount in inches
to buy some Cookie Dough ice cream.
***
Poetics are hard to find these days;
contentment is the castration of art
and tragedy and pity don't own passports
to the Kingdom, perched on the last hill –
there's a feast, and I've started my fill
of eternity, and crafted words falling
into place feel jigsawed and rough-cut,
but I'll carve and place them all the same.
Because – joy, the squeezing of the heart
caused in part by a knowledge of extension,
an affirmation of immortality, the incomplete,
misunderstood summit of biology, finds itself
betokened in two liminal items: love and art,
and here, brokenly, in poetasting, wasteful fashion,
I've sought to blazon the two on snow-white paper:
a poor testament to a well-met peace.
Fragments on Friendship
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Contentment is the castration of art - yes, that shone like a beacon, and in fact it sounds like an old man's poem. Or middle-aged, perhaps.
One "not yet" would do, I think, but I liked the first verse, the ice-trapped garden fishes.
The rest I struggle with, mostly. I'm a great fan of the Marx Brothers but I'm not sure what you're saying.
I understand the tragedy and pity yet the last verse, apart from the final 2 lines, is passing me by.
One "not yet" would do, I think, but I liked the first verse, the ice-trapped garden fishes.
The rest I struggle with, mostly. I'm a great fan of the Marx Brothers but I'm not sure what you're saying.
I understand the tragedy and pity yet the last verse, apart from the final 2 lines, is passing me by.
I'm out of faith and in my cups
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
Owen, it's very nice to see you treading the board again. The first section I liked very much; the second, in the same sort of vein, less so, but still I liked it; the final one, not so much - maybe the language there is a little high-flown?
Still, number one, very good indeed. Unfashionably Christian? Balls to fashion.
Cheers
David
Still, number one, very good indeed. Unfashionably Christian? Balls to fashion.
Cheers
David
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Two things that are pleasing firstly great to see you posting here again, I saw your name on an older post about a month ago and wondered what had become of you. Secondly glad to see a comment from Ray since that last post of his I read indicated he was off which would have been a loss. Sentimental part over down to the poem.
You have given us two markers one by the title mentioning fragments and the other the division into sections, the language/style is so different between each part that they need to stand alone and I think you have told us that they do. Like David I enjoy section one, I'm not so keen on section two, section three I find more interesting the section Ray highlighted is one of those telling lines that feels just right. However you make it hard to critic when you have alread done so yourself.
You have given us two markers one by the title mentioning fragments and the other the division into sections, the language/style is so different between each part that they need to stand alone and I think you have told us that they do. Like David I enjoy section one, I'm not so keen on section two, section three I find more interesting the section Ray highlighted is one of those telling lines that feels just right. However you make it hard to critic when you have alread done so yourself.
Very good to see you back and I hope it signals further postings.here, brokenly, in poetasting, wasteful fashion,
I've sought to blazon the two on snow-white paper:
a poor testament to a well-met peace.
Owen, hi, that first stanza really drew me in, but you lost me with the second, which for me is too full of adj, not enough images? The third seemed unconnected from that strong start and I couldn't work out where I was - lost obviously down under! The last two stanzas seems like an entirely different poem in content and tone? What this means as a reader I don't know. I know what is often in the writer's head makes perfect sense. So maybe look at the 2nd stanza and see if the last 2 couldn't somehow adopt the tone of the first? Alternatively just leave as is and let the reader work it out!
Owen, I liked this very much. The first stanza was very tight. The second was also enjoyable and added some insight. The last part was a pleasing refrain. I wondered why you'd post this for a crit as all as it feel quite complete. Very lovely.
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Something of a curate's egg, this. Although no fan of the couplet form, I think s1 is very good - unforced and natural. S2 less so, a tad gooey for my taste.
After that, despite some good lines, I found it hard to get a handle on the rhythm, and the language seems, somehow, to be working too hard - it often sounds false and strained to my ear.
It's certainly a thoughtful piece, though.
Cheers
peter
After that, despite some good lines, I found it hard to get a handle on the rhythm, and the language seems, somehow, to be working too hard - it often sounds false and strained to my ear.
It's certainly a thoughtful piece, though.
Cheers
peter
Dear friend, this is a piece from your heart. I could have not done this but
that is by the way.
So gentle are our fragments they sometimes become fragmented, and
complicated, to our detriment.
I like your work. "Fragments on Freindship"
"just now its plain", unspoken and said and done" maybe....
A nice one. Keep the flow from you; there is no one else which
can do it but yourself.
that is by the way.
So gentle are our fragments they sometimes become fragmented, and
complicated, to our detriment.
I like your work. "Fragments on Freindship"
"just now its plain", unspoken and said and done" maybe....
A nice one. Keep the flow from you; there is no one else which
can do it but yourself.
The world is softened to a baby's crib.----------because we live in a middle class society
Not yet the black ice, not yet the glib-------
complaints and ill-fulfilled wishes,----------
not yet ice-trapped garden fishes.---------- the first stanza is very good the aesthetics are there life is there i really can see what you are employing
Just now it's plain, unbroken beauty;-------of course it is central to your life
just here, just now, our joy seems free,--------you would be a martyr to your babies course
a surprise gift from God, so plain to see,-------the unknown architect
as clean, like snow, as any gift could be.------ there is a passion in you narrative
i did not do the rest you said all in the 2 stanzas even the end rhyme seem to work a nice flow Gavin
Not yet the black ice, not yet the glib-------
complaints and ill-fulfilled wishes,----------
not yet ice-trapped garden fishes.---------- the first stanza is very good the aesthetics are there life is there i really can see what you are employing
Just now it's plain, unbroken beauty;-------of course it is central to your life
just here, just now, our joy seems free,--------you would be a martyr to your babies course
a surprise gift from God, so plain to see,-------the unknown architect
as clean, like snow, as any gift could be.------ there is a passion in you narrative
i did not do the rest you said all in the 2 stanzas even the end rhyme seem to work a nice flow Gavin