Ritual - Revision III (Syllabic Verse)

[Luce]

Ritual – Revision III (Syllabic Verse)

Now starts the deceit, when sounds
of vowels and consonants
pierce the air, that shapes the blades
which betrayals are made of.

We grasp the strands in the words
that make us whole that allow
us to face each other in
the sterile light of morning,
over coffee and wheat toast.

You’re sorry, softly kiss me
on the forehead. Together
we mend the rents, quickly hide
the bloody needle and thread
before the kids rush downstairs,
to beg for jam and pancakes.

***********************************************************************************************************

Ritual – Revision II (Syllabic Verse)

Now starts the deceit, when sounds
of vowels and consonants
pierce the air, which shapes the blades
that betrayals are made of.

We grasp the strands in the words
that makes us whole that allows
us to face each other in
the sterile light of morning,
across the kitchen table.

You’re sorry, softly kiss me
on the forehead. Together
we mend the rents, quickly hide
the bloody needle and thread
before the kids rush downstairs,
to beg for waffles and eggs.

*************************************************************************************************************************************

Ritual - Revision

Now starts the deceit, when the sharpness of vowels
and consonants shapes the blades
that betrayals are made of.

Our cuts are deep and so we grasp the strands
in the words that makes us whole that allows us
to face each other in the stark light of morning,
across the kitchen table.

You say you’re sorry and I accept. Together
we sew the rents, hide the bloody needle and thread,
before the kids come down the stairs to beg
for strawberry pancakes.

**********************************************************************************************************************************

Ritual - Original

Therein begins the deceit when sound meets air,
when the sharpness of vowels and consonants
pierce the words and make the keen slivers
that betrayals are made of.

Our cuts are deep and so we grasp the weave
in the phrases that makes us whole, which enables us
to face each other in the bleached light of morning,
over coffee and wheat toast.

You say you’re sorry and kiss me on the forehead. Together
we sew the rents in our marriage, hide the bloody needle
and thread before the kids come down the stairs,
begging for pancakes.

Luce

[Macavity]

Ritual

Therein begins the deceit when sound meets air,
when the sharpness of vowels and consonants
pierce the words [s]and make the keen slivers[/s]
that betrayals are made of.

Our cuts are deep and so we [s]grasp the[/s] weave
in the phrases that makes us whole, [s]which enables us[/s]
to face each other in the bleached light[s]of morning[/s],
over coffee and wheat toast.

[s]You say[/s] You’re sorry and kiss me on the forehead. [s]Together[/s]
we sew the rents [s]in our marriage[/s], hide the bloody needle
and thread before the kids[s]come down the stairs[/s],
begging for pancakes.

Luce

This would leave...

Therein begins the deceit when sound meets air,
when the sharpness of vowels and consonants
pierce the words of which betrayals are made.

Our cuts are deep and so we weave the phrases
that make us whole to face each other
in the bleached light over coffee and toast.

You’re sorry and kiss me on the forehead.
We sew the rents, hide the bloody needle
and thread before the kids beg for pancakes.

Just a thought to increase the 'sharpness'?

best

mac

[Charles]

Liked this a lot Luce. I feel a lot of empathy for both parties in an unhappy marriage "staying together" for the kids. Flowed well. Some beautiful imagery.

My only critique is the last line. Didn't quite work for me. I think, and I may be overstretching here being an amateur when it comes to this, it's because it breaks the meter/flow? The other verses end in seven syllable lines, the last in five with a lot of hard punchy sounds. I'd be inclined to soften it out and elongate it slightly. Just a thought, maybe that is what you were going for but for me it jarred, especially as the lines seems to get longer as the poem progresses from stanza one to stanza three.

[Pauline]

Therein begins the deceit when sound meets air,
when the sharpness of vowels and consonants
pierce the words and make the keen slivers
that betrayals are made of.

Our cuts are deep and so we grasp the weave
in the phrases that makes us whole, which enables us
to face each other in the bleached lightof morning,
over coffee and wheat toast.

You say You’re sorry and kiss me on the forehead. Together
we sew the rents in our marriage, hide the bloody needle
and thread before the kidscome down the stairs,
begging for pancakes.

Not too keen on the opening verse Luce.
Would you talk that way?
Don’t understand the rents?

Totally understand the pretence that all is hunky dory for the sake of the kids.
Been there. It ain’t easy.
Do you mind if I offer a little suggestion towards your delivery of what seems to me a personal offering.
Of course, you know it’s a TOT suggestion.

The deceit begins when sound meets air.
When the sharpness of vowels and consonants
pierce the phrases we’ve woven to face each other
over coffee and wheat toast.

Your sorry kisses grasp the needle that sews
us together before the kids come downstairs
begging for pancakes.

Yeah, yeah, I know it isn't correct syllable wise but hey, WGAF.
It's honest and direct.
You have more to say Luce.
Say it.

[Luce]

mac, Charles, Ft, Pauline - Thanks for dropping by and taking the time to read this piece through. I appreciate the feedback.

I've posted a revision.

Btw, it's not a metered poem even though, at first glance, it may look and sound that way. Nevertheless, in a future revision, I may submit it as a metered piece or in syllabic verse since the piece seems to want to go in that direction.

Luce

[David Smedley]

Now starts the deceit, when the sharpness of vowels
and consonants shapes the blades
that betrayals are made of.

Our cuts are deep and so we grasp the strands
in the words that makes us whole that allows us
to face each other in the stark light of morning,
across the kitchen table.

You say you’re sorry and I accept. Together
we sew the rents, hide the bloody needle and thread,
before the kids come down the stairs to beg
for strawberry pancakes.

This is prose for me.

David.

[Luce]

David - Thanks for the feedback. Duly noted.

All - Revision II up. Was able to do this in syllabic verse (7 syllables per line). It definitely has a different feel to it besides condensing the poem further.

Luce

[Antcliff]

Greetings, Luce

What would you think of cutting ln.9? Is it doing much for the poem.

Seth

[Macavity]

Hi Luce,

I find food in a poem evokes a whole lot of sensory world. I miss those pancakes and the coffee (there was a kid/parent thing threading there).

best

mac

[Luce]

Greetings, Luce

What would you think of cutting ln.9? Is it doing much for the poem.

Don't know about deleting L9. I feel I need it to set a definite domestic scene.

Seth

Hi Luce,

I find food in a poem evokes a whole lot of sensory world. I miss those pancakes and the coffee (there was a kid/parent thing threading there).

best

mac

Good point. The kids get back their pancakes with jam!!! The parents get adult fare - coffee and wheat toast.


Luce

[Macavity]

Good point. The kids get back their pancakes with jam!!! The parents get adult fare - coffee and wheat toast.

thumbs up

mac

[David]

I rather like this.

Not sure whether "which" in S1 refers to the deceit or the air.

Too many thats in S2 - lines 1 and 2 are pretty much unintelligible to me - and you've mixed up singular and plural at least once there.

I like S3. It's plain-speaking and touching after the abstractions of the first two stanzas, but perhaps works all the better for the contrast it makes with them. I still think you could usefully make those clearer, though.

Quite a relief to see you posting in ordinary, not bold (and coloured) type too, for a change. You don't need those gimmicks, which are no more than (slightly) annoying.

Cheers

David

[Pauline]

The deceit starts when we face each other
over coffee and toast in the morning.
Your sorry kisses on my forehead beg
forgiveness before the kids rush downstairs

asking for pancakes .

That’s all I’m getting here Luce.
Where’s the story?
What’s happened/happening???

when sounds
of vowels and consonants
pierce the air, which shapes the blades
that betrayals are made of.

What’s that all about?
It tell me nothing Luce.

We grasp the strands in the words
that makes us whole that allows
us to face each other in
the sterile light of morning,

?????

I'm sorry Luce, but I feel that you have started to confide in me then changed your mind,
and I'm left like....What...???

You have more to offer than this.
I know you have, and I look forward to hearing your/their story

[Luce]

I rather like this.

Good

Not sure whether "which" in S1 refers to the deceit or the air.

I'll clear that up.

Too many thats in S2 - lines 1 and 2 are pretty much unintelligible to me - and you've mixed up singular and plural at least once there.

Too many thats and singular/plural agreement corrected. Sorry line 1-2 doesn't do it for you.

I like S3. It's plain-speaking and touching after the abstractions of the first two stanzas, but perhaps works all the better for the contrast it makes with them. I still think you could usefully make those clearer, though.

Glad you like S3 - mostly.

Quite a relief to see you posting in ordinary, not bold (and coloured) type too, for a change. You don't need those gimmicks, which are no more than (slightly) annoying.

I only use bold and colored fonts when I post comments so I guess you're referring to those instances. I definitely don't post poems that way. If I did, it had to had been an accident. Sorry you find the bold and colored fonts annoying.

What I find annoying are comments done on the same line and in the same font syle, without much of a separation between the poem line and comment. However, everyone has their preference and some, like me, post their comments in bold colored fonts.

Cheers

David

The deceit starts when we face each other
over coffee and toast in the morning.
Your sorry kisses on my forehead beg
forgiveness before the kids rush downstairs

asking for pancakes .

That’s all I’m getting here Luce.
Where’s the story?
What’s happened/happening???

when sounds
of vowels and consonants
pierce the air, which shapes the blades
that betrayals are made of.

What’s that all about?
It tell me nothing Luce.

We grasp the strands in the words
that makes us whole that allows
us to face each other in
the sterile light of morning,

?????

I'm sorry Luce, but I feel that you have started to confide in me then changed your mind,
and I'm left like....What...???

You have more to offer than this.
I know you have, and I look forward to hearing your/their story

I'm sorry you don't like the poem Pauline.

Folks - time for me to move on. I'm making minor corrections in the current revision and then putting this one in the drawer for a while. Any more feedback received will be stored with the poem.

Thanks to all for your help with this piece.

Luce

[David]

What I find annoying are comments done on the same line and in the same font syle, without much of a separation between the poem line and comment.

Me too. I agree with you on that.

However, everyone has their preference and some, like me, post their comments in bold colored fonts.

And that seems fine too, for comments - although I think bold and coloured is overdoing things a bit.

[JJWilliamson]

Hi, Luce

I see you've decided to put this one to bed for a few days/weeks etc but I thought I'd pop in to say how much I enjoyed the unspoken drama.
You have a glimpse into the very heart of many an unhappy stalemate, one that DOES turn into ritualistic survival.

A couple of thoughts for your perusal.

Ritual – Revision III (Syllabic Verse)

Now starts the deceit, when sounds
of vowels and consonants
pierce the air, that shapes the blades
which betrayals are made of. ...Maybe a stronger title would help to shape the abstract nature of this strophe. I like it and think I know what you're saying but I can't be sure. Why vowels and consonants? How about, "lies and vitriol" to maintain your count. Is 'pierce the air' fresh enough? It might be. Something like "lance my ears" might have more impact.

We grasp the strands in the words ...Did the blades cause these strands?
that make us whole that allow
us to face each other in
the sterile light of morning,
over coffee and wheat toast. ...Great image that ties the whole strophe together.

You’re sorry, softly kiss me
on the forehead. Together
we mend the rents, quickly hide
the bloody needle and thread
before the kids rush downstairs,
to beg for jam and pancakes. ...Great closing line, almost resigned in its way, as some justification for the tolerance appears.

All in all I enjoyed this uncomfortable look at domesticity.

Best

JJ