Blue

[Suzanne]

Blue

Palatable as skewered reindeer
bathed in warm-teat milk, dead-fly soured.
Or the fibrous pulp of an orange,
the bitter strings of a banana.
A bruise beneath the skin of an apple; 
mealy tender spoils in a hollowed blue bowl.

The clouds sail higher 
than my house, in a sky as blue as...

I once loved a man, eyes blue 
as hand-dyed silk, mornings danced in them 
until he pulled his heart out of his chest 
and pretended he didn't feel it.
Numbed tongue in his pocket, 
folded as his mother had taught him, 
he walked away. No heart, walking. 

Sometimes in dreams, his eyes 
become two stones in my hand, on my tongue 
they are cold steel bearings I gently roll
until they become warm and I swallow.

The sky is higher than my house
and still bluer than the things I can recall.


.


Original- Blue

Palatable as skewered reindeer
bathed in warm-teat milk, dead-fly soured.
Or the fibrous pulp of an orange,
the bitter strings of a banana.
A bruise hidden beneath the skin of an apple, 
mealy tender spoils in a hollowed blue bowl.

The clouds sail higher 
than my house, in a sky as blue as...

I once loved an old man, eyes blue 
as hand-dyed silk, mornings danced in them 
like the sun on a field of new snow.
Until he pulled his heart out of his chest 
and pretended he didn't feel it, 
numbed tongue in his pocket, 
folded as his mother had taught him. 
He walked away. No heart, walking. 

Sometimes I dream two stones 
become eyes in my hand, placed on my tongue 
they are like steel bearings gently rolled 
until they warm and I swallow.

The sky is higher than my house
and still bluer than the things I can recall.

.

[R P Jackson]

Okay - prima facie response -

You kick straight in with some nice off-beat images and similie (Palatable as skewered reindeer - very palatable indeed!) alongside some less inspiring ideas (the bitter stings of a banana) but I honestly have absolutely no idea what you are describing in s1, and still didn't at the end of the piece (though note - I am a bit thick).

Not sure about 'as blue as hand-dyed silk' - are they only able to use blue when dying by hand? Also -

Until he pulled his heart out of his chest
and pretended he didn't feel it,
numbed tongue in his pocket,
folded as his mother had taught him.
He walked away. No heart, walking.

Is a bit cliche for me.

s1 is nice, though again, no idea what the metaphor is in swallowing the 'eyes'.

Closing lines are very nice.

RP.

[TDF]

Hi Suzanne,

Man, that's some stuff in there. I have to admit my fumblings at deciphering it's actual meaning are stumbling. It seems a mix of things to me. I'm getting the daydream, and the comparison of blue memories to the ultimate blue of the sky, I'm getting some obvious blue melancholy... but I'm not getting what the sky actually represents, the relevance of it's unattainability (is that a word?). Fill me in plx!

But that aside, I do like the language, all of S1 rocks for me. Warm-teat milk makes me chuckle, sorry.

Like S4 too, for how it says it, but again, no idea what it's actually saying.

The only line I don't like is the last of S3.

Cheers me dears,
Tom

[JohnLott]

Hi Suzanne

I think it's good. I say 'think' only because I follow it up to 'Sometimes I dream....'

Not sure about 'Mealy' in the vernacular; and why, when it is tender, it should spoil because it is in a 'hollowed blue bowl': aren't all bowls 'hollowed'?

My view is that if you can sort out the last bits, you should have some workable emotion going on.



J.

[Nash]

Although S1 is very good, I'm having trouble reconciling it with the rest of the poem. 'hollowed blue bowl' seems an odd choice, isn't a bowl by its very nature hollowed? I'm probably missing something, but it seems like the fact that the bowl is blue is the only link we have here.

I like the way you have left S2 hanging, leading us into the reminiscence very nicely.

I like S3 too, I could probably do without the sun on the new snow. If you ask me I'd say lose L3 altogether, 'mornings danced in them' is much better without it in my opinion.

The weirdness of S4 is good, no idea what you're saying there, but I like it.

Yep, very good.

[Suzanne]

Thank you for the crits. I have tweaked it slightly with the hope of making it clearer without losing the strangeness of mood. I don't want to explain or tell much yet. Except "hollowed" is a verb. Comments would be so very much appreciated. Thank you.



Warmly,
Suzanne
( if feel I am behind on crits and apologize. I will catch up.)

[BenJohnson]

I don't want to explain or tell much yet.

Resist that temptation, explanations so often ruin to enjoyment of exploring a poem. It is like the tour guide in a foreign country who insists on telling you that all the myths you believed are wrong.

For me content-wise the poem is Suzanne, but the voice is something quite different. I greatly enjoyed this this hues of blue in the first stanza the combination of items forming a sort of spoiled still-life picture. I half wonder if you need to repeat the word blue throughout, e.g. eyes like hand-dyed silk and leave the reader to fill in the colour as you have in the first stanza on the otherhand I don't find the repetitions in the least obtrusive. I wonder at the 'No heart, walking' which almost seems to be driving the point home from the previous two sentences, again though as a repetition it works for me. I find the break at at the end of S2 very abrupt due to the way S3 begins, the beginning clearly marks a whole new train of thought. Altering it to 'A man I once loved had eyes as blue', would for me provide a slight ambiguity as to whether this was a new thought or the continuation of a train of thought.

All minor picky points though as I loved reading this.

[brianedwards]

As I told you before Suzanne, I enjoyed this much. I haven't read all the comments in detail, so apologies if I'm repeating, but I have one nit in the penultimate stanza. Would you consider reversing the stones and eyes, so you have the eyes becoming two stones?

Very nice draft.

B.

[Suzanne]

Ben!

Wahoo! Thank you for the remarks! It is so satisfying to hear your comments. I have edited a bit as per your ideas but the transition, or lack of one, lol, between S2 and S3 is how it would be phrased is I were speaking it. I guess that the end of S3, the repeat of walking, is also the same as my speaking voice. There is a distraction or drifting in the narrative that I like. But I really like that you have challenged me to rethink it. I am very glad that you enjoyed reading it. Really, really! wahoo!

Brian,
Watch:



I did a backflip!

Thanks for the encouragement to repost this. That was a great idea, yes, I did the eyes and the stones swtich.

Thank you, I smile, you have been nice. (who? can believe I said that? who? wink.)

Warmly,
Suzanne
(ok ok, I won't get used to it.)

[oggiesnr]

Sorry Suzanne but I'm obviously out of my depth here. Great images, nice use of words but I cannot feel anything about this poem, I cannot discern a meaning to the whole that make sense or speaks to me.

The fault is almost certainly in me, I'll go back to reading detective novels

Be well

Steve

[Suzanne]

Thanks for telling me, Steve.
It is helpful to get your feedback that you didn't understand it. Makes me want to write another one better.

I love the process.

Warmly,
Suzanne