Dam
- Helen Bywater
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I am calm, straightened out
as a clean sheet
spread to the four corners,
a blank canvas, awaiting
some master stroke.
Nothing moves, no breath stirs.
My lungs deflate slowly,
like two limp sails.
I am becalmed.
At the world's rim, a brooding sky
bears down, a massive grey wall
like a dam about to burst.
A bleak wind blows in,
a thin, grievous wailing
of lives lost at sea.
Ruffling the surface, it builds,
and whips up towering waves
that rear and claw the air,
and I must ride
white-knuckled, white-faced,
churning up a frantic lather
as the storm overtakes me,
gulping huge draughts
with an urgent sobbing.
Forked tongues split the sky;
stinging salt beats my face to pulp,
my eyes to swollen slits,
till the wind drops,
heaving a final, trembling sigh,
shuddering off the apalling grey.
As the sky-film rewinds
and the first weak rays pierce through,
I crawl out onto the land,
reclaiming my birthright,
and take my first shaky steps.
I said my first word today.
as a clean sheet
spread to the four corners,
a blank canvas, awaiting
some master stroke.
Nothing moves, no breath stirs.
My lungs deflate slowly,
like two limp sails.
I am becalmed.
At the world's rim, a brooding sky
bears down, a massive grey wall
like a dam about to burst.
A bleak wind blows in,
a thin, grievous wailing
of lives lost at sea.
Ruffling the surface, it builds,
and whips up towering waves
that rear and claw the air,
and I must ride
white-knuckled, white-faced,
churning up a frantic lather
as the storm overtakes me,
gulping huge draughts
with an urgent sobbing.
Forked tongues split the sky;
stinging salt beats my face to pulp,
my eyes to swollen slits,
till the wind drops,
heaving a final, trembling sigh,
shuddering off the apalling grey.
As the sky-film rewinds
and the first weak rays pierce through,
I crawl out onto the land,
reclaiming my birthright,
and take my first shaky steps.
I said my first word today.
Perplexing Poster
- camus
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Loads of metaphors.
Metaphors within one big metaphor.
Metaphoric! Certainly built something up here.
Loved the first stanza, clean and crisp!
I thought
"a blank canvas, awaiting
some master stroke"
was pushing the cliche monitor?
"I said my first word today."
Was a cool ending.
Metaphors within one big metaphor.
Metaphoric! Certainly built something up here.
Loved the first stanza, clean and crisp!
I thought
"a blank canvas, awaiting
some master stroke"
was pushing the cliche monitor?
"I said my first word today."
Was a cool ending.
http://www.closetpoet.co.uk
- Helen Bywater
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Thanks Camus.
I'll think about those lines. I think it might need "blank canvas", given the subject matter, although the meaning I'm talking about isn't obvious, and I don't even know if that matters. Perhaps I should re-think "some master stroke", at least.
Btw, in case anyone thinks they need to be extra kind and careful in critiquing this, because I sound as if I'm having a nervous breakdown or something, it's another of my old poems (it follows on from "Great Expectations") and I've long since come through this. So don't worry - you can be as brutal as you like!
Helen
I'll think about those lines. I think it might need "blank canvas", given the subject matter, although the meaning I'm talking about isn't obvious, and I don't even know if that matters. Perhaps I should re-think "some master stroke", at least.
Btw, in case anyone thinks they need to be extra kind and careful in critiquing this, because I sound as if I'm having a nervous breakdown or something, it's another of my old poems (it follows on from "Great Expectations") and I've long since come through this. So don't worry - you can be as brutal as you like!
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)
Helen
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Is it about chidlbirth? Seems to be, and the title would indicate as much.Even puerperal psychosis.
I like the first stanza a lot, too.A thin(I'd lose the comma) grievous wailing of wives lost at sea is very good too.
Yes, I think this is rather good, Helen.
I like the first stanza a lot, too.A thin(I'd lose the comma) grievous wailing of wives lost at sea is very good too.
Yes, I think this is rather good, Helen.
I'm out of faith and in my cups
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
- Helen Bywater
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Thanks, Ray!
Interesting reactions. I was rather expecting the men here to think it was far too emotional.
No, it's not about childbirth - more to do with the "inner child".
The line was actually "lives lost at sea", not wives. I don't know if you misread it, or if that was a typo on your part. (Edit: my partner just commented - or wishful thinking on your part?
)
Cheers,
Helen
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)
Interesting reactions. I was rather expecting the men here to think it was far too emotional.
No, it's not about childbirth - more to do with the "inner child".
The line was actually "lives lost at sea", not wives. I don't know if you misread it, or if that was a typo on your part. (Edit: my partner just commented - or wishful thinking on your part?
![Laughing :lol:](./images/smilies/icon_lol.gif)
Cheers,
Helen
Perplexing Poster
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I read it as childbirth from the child's point of view.
Re-reading it after reading the comments above I saw the inner-child breaking through the bad times and being reborn and ready to face the world again.
Many metaphors, I'll give this another read later methinks.
Thanks Helen: enjoyed this one.
Gaz
Re-reading it after reading the comments above I saw the inner-child breaking through the bad times and being reborn and ready to face the world again.
Many metaphors, I'll give this another read later methinks.
Thanks Helen: enjoyed this one.
Gaz
- Helen Bywater
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Thanks Gaz,
Glad you enjoyed it.
Helen
Glad you enjoyed it.
Helen
Perplexing Poster
Nice work HB. Liked the way you expressed it from the eyes of a new born child.
Good piece of poetry. The metaphors are quite abundant and a taming perhaps
would force more clarity to the observer here without taking away any of its
original integrity.
The imagination of poets is more or less infinite, liked the way you crafted her
much
Good piece of poetry. The metaphors are quite abundant and a taming perhaps
would force more clarity to the observer here without taking away any of its
original integrity.
The imagination of poets is more or less infinite, liked the way you crafted her
much
Helen
I too thought childbirth but took it to be a wider metaphor. Great closing line.
For me though the poem is burdened by too much language and too many descriptions which mean that it labours along rather than having an energy to propel it. Here are a few examples;
The opening stanza is just fine, sets the scene with a fresh image but s2 introduces a similar description but one thats close to cliche. I think a reader can make the leap from clean sheet to blank canvas without being told.
s3 - using the word slowly takes pace out of the piece without adding anything, in fact it distracts from limp sails and again limp carries all the associations of slowness etc so why say it.
Brooding sky and wall like a dam (cliche) - would it be brutal to say ditch them?
Do the waves need to be towering - does whipped up not allow the reader to form their own image of towering without being told? This is probably illustrative of a wider problem - the number of adjective noun combinations e.g
huge draughts, urgent sobbing, stinging salt, swollen slits
You did say be brutal - get the scalpel out or alternatively feel very free to tell me I talk nonsense.
elph
I too thought childbirth but took it to be a wider metaphor. Great closing line.
For me though the poem is burdened by too much language and too many descriptions which mean that it labours along rather than having an energy to propel it. Here are a few examples;
The opening stanza is just fine, sets the scene with a fresh image but s2 introduces a similar description but one thats close to cliche. I think a reader can make the leap from clean sheet to blank canvas without being told.
s3 - using the word slowly takes pace out of the piece without adding anything, in fact it distracts from limp sails and again limp carries all the associations of slowness etc so why say it.
Brooding sky and wall like a dam (cliche) - would it be brutal to say ditch them?
Do the waves need to be towering - does whipped up not allow the reader to form their own image of towering without being told? This is probably illustrative of a wider problem - the number of adjective noun combinations e.g
huge draughts, urgent sobbing, stinging salt, swollen slits
You did say be brutal - get the scalpel out or alternatively feel very free to tell me I talk nonsense.
elph
- Helen Bywater
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Thanks Lovely and Elphin.
You've both made some good points. I appreciate your input and your time. I'll have a think about what you said.
Cheers,
Helen
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)
You've both made some good points. I appreciate your input and your time. I'll have a think about what you said.
Cheers,
Helen
Perplexing Poster
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Helen, you said be brutal, so . . . .
Despite an interesting opening stanza (Plath-esque even), the poem quickly nosedives into over-used imagery and tired language(brooding sky; bleak wind; urgent sobbing; trembling sigh).
Stanzas 4-10 are especially leaden. There is an excess of modifiers ("thin, grievous wailing")and although I can sense you have been very careful about your choice of verbs, some of them serve only to produce vague, somewhat abstract images ("waves that rear and claw the air").
Also, some of your descriptive phrasings range from odd ("world's rim") to downright silly ("Forked tongues split the sky").
Should you wish to revise, I would suggest using starker, less emotive language. Your metaphor is weighed down here by your choice of language. Take a look at Plath perhaps ("Full Fathom Five" springs to mind).
Anyway, here's a couple of thoughts on your opening:
I am calm.
Straight as a clean sheet
spread to the four corners,
The sky is a dam about to burst.
My lungs deflate like two limp sails.
I am calm.
(I think the shift from simile(internal) to metaphor (external) to simile (internal) suggests an uncertain inner state, which I think might be part of your intention . . . maybe I'm way off)
Best regards.
B.
~
Despite an interesting opening stanza (Plath-esque even), the poem quickly nosedives into over-used imagery and tired language(brooding sky; bleak wind; urgent sobbing; trembling sigh).
Stanzas 4-10 are especially leaden. There is an excess of modifiers ("thin, grievous wailing")and although I can sense you have been very careful about your choice of verbs, some of them serve only to produce vague, somewhat abstract images ("waves that rear and claw the air").
Also, some of your descriptive phrasings range from odd ("world's rim") to downright silly ("Forked tongues split the sky").
Should you wish to revise, I would suggest using starker, less emotive language. Your metaphor is weighed down here by your choice of language. Take a look at Plath perhaps ("Full Fathom Five" springs to mind).
Anyway, here's a couple of thoughts on your opening:
I am calm.
Straight as a clean sheet
spread to the four corners,
The sky is a dam about to burst.
My lungs deflate like two limp sails.
I am calm.
(I think the shift from simile(internal) to metaphor (external) to simile (internal) suggests an uncertain inner state, which I think might be part of your intention . . . maybe I'm way off)
Best regards.
B.
~
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Hi Helen
I've been coming back to this all week, and have enjoyed reading it.
To me though, as others have said, it feels too long and overladen with emotive language.
I really liked the opening, it felt very calm and clean, and I think you capture this again towards the end, obviously that was the idea, the calm before and after the storm. But I think in the middle, there is just too much. If you can create the storm feeling without so much in there, it would be more powerful I think.
Elph and Brian have both made some good suggestions, which I would second![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)
Sharra
xx
I've been coming back to this all week, and have enjoyed reading it.
To me though, as others have said, it feels too long and overladen with emotive language.
I really liked the opening, it felt very calm and clean, and I think you capture this again towards the end, obviously that was the idea, the calm before and after the storm. But I think in the middle, there is just too much. If you can create the storm feeling without so much in there, it would be more powerful I think.
Elph and Brian have both made some good suggestions, which I would second
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)
Sharra
xx
It is at the edge of the
petal that love waits
petal that love waits
- Helen Bywater
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Thanks a lot Brian, for being brutal. It does help. I'm working on some (I hope) improvements, bearing some of your suggestions in mind. Good idea about reading Plath, too.
Sharra, many thanks for your feedback, too - you've summed up what seems to be the consensus of opinion quite succinctly.
Cheers,
Helen![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)
Sharra, many thanks for your feedback, too - you've summed up what seems to be the consensus of opinion quite succinctly.
Cheers,
Helen
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_smile.gif)
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