Paris, 1945 https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/t1978 Runboard| Paris, 1945 en-us Fri, 29 Mar 2024 06:39:03 +0000 Fri, 29 Mar 2024 06:39:03 +0000 https://www.runboard.com/ rssfeeds_managingeditor@runboard.com (Runboard.com RSS feeds managing editor) rssfeeds_webmaster@runboard.com (Runboard.com RSS feeds webmaster) akBBS 60 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13925,from=rss#post13925https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13925,from=rss#post13925Q--- Confessional Poetry. (Plath and Frank O'Hara, for example.) here is Plath in her journal describing her first meeting with her future husband and fellow poet, Ted Hughes. "Then the worst happened, that big, dark, hunky boy, the only one there huge enough for me, who had been hunching around over women, and whose name I had asked the minute I had come into the room, but no one told me, came over and was looking hard in my eyes and it was Ted Hughes."   A page later in the journal comes Plath’s account of the now famous first kiss/bite, which occurred a little later at the same party. Plath’s version of it is truly riveting: "…and I was stamping and he was stamping on the floor, and then he kissed me bang smash on the mouth and ripped my hairband off, my lovely red hairband scarf which has weathered the sun and much love, and whose like I shall never again find, and my favorite silver earrings: hah, I shall keep, he barked. And when he kissed my neck I bit him long and hard on the cheek, and when we came out of the room, blood was running down his face." hey thanks for your comment. bernienondisclosed_email@example.com (Mojave02)Wed, 31 Oct 2012 11:36:54 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13920,from=rss#post13920https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13920,from=rss#post13920also plath - all her poems are a seizure & a-shiver! i like all genre - but what is 'this genre'? besides, i love westerns, detective, science fiction, horror etc - i'm sure many do. its a fine poem. nondisclosed_email@example.com (queenfisher)Wed, 31 Oct 2012 04:58:53 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13883,from=rss#post13883https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13883,from=rss#post13883Good stuff, Bernie. Thanks back at you. Terenondisclosed_email@example.com (Terreson)Sun, 28 Oct 2012 11:34:30 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13878,from=rss#post13878https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13878,from=rss#post13878Tere perfect. got it. and love these place names: 'And when he has crossed the Irthing flood, My merry bard! he hastes, he hastes Up Knorren Moor, through Halegarth Wood, And reaches soon that castle good Which stands and threatens Scotland's wastes Lowelll welcomed this style until he helped found the Confessional Poets. In the grandiloquent lettering on Mother’s coffin, Lowell had been misspelled LOVEL. The corpse was wrapped like panettone in Italian tinfoil.   Sexton would become one of his students. change of pace---folk song---The American Black Lghtning--- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skmtmRX69lg ARTIST: Richard Thompson TITLE: 1952 Vincent Black Lightning Lyrics and Chords Said Red Molly to James that's a fine motorbike A girl could feel special on any such like Said James to Red Molly, well my hat's off to you It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952 And I've seen you at the corners and cafes it seems Red hair and black leather, my favorite color scheme And he pulled her on behind And down to Box Hill they did ride Said James to Red Molly, here's a ring for your right hand But I'll tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man I've fought with the law since I was seventeen I robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine Now I'm 21 years, I might make 22 And I don't mind dying, but for the love of you And if fate should break my stride Then I'll give you my Vincent to ride Come down, come down, Red Molly, called Sergeant McRae For they've taken young James Adie for armed robbery Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside Oh, come down, Red Molly to his dying bedside When she came to the hospital, there wasn't much left He was running out of road, he was running out of breath But he smiled to see her cry And said I'll give you my Vincent to ride   Says James, in my opinion, there's nothing in this world Beats a 52 Vincent and a red headed girl Now Nortons and Indians and Greeveses won't do They don't have a soul like a Vincent 52 He reached for her hand and he slipped her the keys He said I've got no further use for these I see angels on Ariels in leather and chrome Swooping down from heaven to carry me home And he gave her one last kiss and died And he gave her his Vincent to ride love it, love it all. best wishes. thanks    nondisclosed_email@example.com (Mojave01)Sat, 27 Oct 2012 22:21:38 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13875,from=rss#post13875https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13875,from=rss#post13875Fair and straightforward question, Bernie. A bunch of poems and poets come to mind. Graves has a few seizure inducing poems. And Sexton. Baudelaire a couple. Lorca too. But I think the granddaddy of the sort still has to be Colerdidge's Christabel Part One. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173227 Terenondisclosed_email@example.com (Terreson)Sat, 27 Oct 2012 11:48:34 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13865,from=rss#post13865https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13865,from=rss#post13865Mojave, I agree that the revision more closely resembles your other work. They now appear to be two separate poems, one taking us back to a magical time, Paris in the 20's, the Hemingway world, and one more closely attuned to your sensibility. They both "rock" -- in today's parlance or coinage. Zak quote:Mojave01 wrote: Tere--- Queenfisher-- i understand that you are not so redhot for this "genre" of poem; as some who do not like westerns, or detective or science fiction. to i am happy to escape here with no more damage than smart and elegant. a generous reading and many thanks. would love it if you could list one poem or two that have this quality that you admire, seizure & shiver. the best to you both. bernie nondisclosed_email@example.com (Zakzzz5)Sat, 27 Oct 2012 06:39:18 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13860,from=rss#post13860https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13860,from=rss#post13860Tere--- Queenfisher-- i understand that you are not so redhot for this "genre" of poem; as some who do not like westerns, or detective or science fiction. to i am happy to escape here with no more damage than smart and elegant. a generous reading and many thanks. would love it if you could list one poem or two that have this quality that you admire, seizure & shiver. the best to you both. bernie nondisclosed_email@example.com (Mojave01)Fri, 26 Oct 2012 09:56:23 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13855,from=rss#post13855https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13855,from=rss#post13855love tere's assessment of poetry - that seizure & shiver - is actually sending shivers up & down my spine! also agree about the poem being smart & elegant - it's a gentleman poem!nondisclosed_email@example.com (queenfisher)Fri, 26 Oct 2012 01:06:07 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13851,from=rss#post13851https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13851,from=rss#post13851I used to say brash things. Try not to do that much anymore. Sometimes it just slips out. Poetry is neither comment, complaint, or consolation. It is a seizure and a shiver. By this standard, of course, most of my poetry fails. Still I think it a true assessment. Poem is smart and elegant in its word choices. Terenondisclosed_email@example.com (Terreson)Thu, 25 Oct 2012 19:15:19 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13818,from=rss#post13818https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13818,from=rss#post13818Hi Bernie, I, too, like the revision. It is clearer, more focused and has greater emotional impact. I hadn't seen the connection to Hemingway until Zak mentioned it. FWIW, I think the revision is less Hemingway and more you. I, too, wish you the best regarding your health. We are happy to have you posting here, so stop by the board when you can and don't worry about short posts or slow response times. nondisclosed_email@example.com (Katlin)Sun, 21 Oct 2012 09:10:16 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13813,from=rss#post13813https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13813,from=rss#post13813What zak said re: your health and contribution to the board. The edited version of the poem is cleaner and much improved, I think. Interesting choice of "bright cat eyes," curious and-- predatory?-- hungry? Chris nondisclosed_email@example.com (Christine98)Sat, 20 Oct 2012 07:58:49 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13812,from=rss#post13812https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13812,from=rss#post13812Bernie, It's hard to know why we get one illness or another. My own problems have come without warning. Really makes you appreciate your health, the good days, that is. I hope you get back to terra firma as soon as possible. We need you in full health on this board. Zak quote:Mojave01 wrote: Z--- i'm being treated at Kaiser's liver transplant center, great care but no new liver has turned up just yet. like a poem, we keep editing. just wanted you to know because all the medications have made every step of poetry slow and difficult. thanks again, bernie nondisclosed_email@example.com (Zakzzz5)Sat, 20 Oct 2012 06:16:43 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13811,from=rss#post13811https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13811,from=rss#post13811Z--- i'm being treated at Kaiser's liver transplant center, great care but no new liver has turned up just yet. like a poem, we keep editing. just wanted you to know because all the medications have made every step of poetry slow and difficult. thanks again, bernienondisclosed_email@example.com (Mojave01)Fri, 19 Oct 2012 09:32:18 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13807,from=rss#post13807https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13807,from=rss#post13807Bernie, No problem. Glad I was close to the intent. I hope your illness is nothing more serious than a bad cold. Zaknondisclosed_email@example.com (Zakzzz5)Fri, 19 Oct 2012 08:30:06 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13806,from=rss#post13806https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13806,from=rss#post13806Z--- i loved your comments because this poem is so indebted to the young hemingway---The Sun Also Rises---and you immediately focused on that connection. ill health now makes all responses very difficult, i hope you understand. bernie  nondisclosed_email@example.com (Mojave01)Fri, 19 Oct 2012 00:31:40 +0000 Re: Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13804,from=rss#post13804https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13804,from=rss#post13804Mojave, Another terrific poem. You're one of the few poets I encounter regularly who can write about these warm moments. I think you do romantic poetry successfully. When I say romantic, I'm referring to the subject matter, not to the style or era necessarily. We know that you're focusing on moments specifically, though there might other serious matters pushed off into the corner temporarily. Zak Mojave01 wrote: Did I mention the shy blanche of green grapes I pinned to her coat? [A very soft, non-committal way of starting a poem.] The fountain pen she gave with her smile? A small, warm café in the Les Halles District, the wagon master and Abattoir workers embraced and bouncing to the accordion? [Because Hemingway based much of his early writing and experience in Paris, this takes me back to his prose, particularly with the good use of place names.] Sharing the Paris edition of the Herald Tribune over a breakfast of fat strawberries; our bright cat eyes seeing everything. We refused to sleep; [Even this smacks of Hemingway, though I'm certain you've got other influences, other poets driving this. I'm probably not as broadly read in the moderns as in the older poets. Whatever the influences, this is very good. We all would like to have moments like this.] blue streets cold as the Greenland ice sheet. [Excellent finish. Excellent simile. (Simile, right? Not metaphor.] nondisclosed_email@example.com (Zakzzz5)Thu, 18 Oct 2012 08:13:14 +0000 Paris, 1945https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13790,from=rss#post13790https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p13790,from=rss#post13790Revision #1 Did I mention the shy blanche of grapes I fastened to her coat? She gave a fountain pen on a silver lanyard. We ate our breakfast with abattoir workers in Les Halles, onion soup and fat strawberries; accordion music for free. We had bright cat eyes only for each other. We refused to rest; the blue streets cold as the Greenland ice cap. Original: Did I mention the shy blanche of green grapes I pinned to her coat? The fountain pen she gave with her smile? A small, warm café in the Les Halles District, the wagon master and Abattoir workers embraced and bouncing to the accordion? Sharing the Paris edition of the Herald Tribune over a breakfast of fat strawberries; our bright cat eyes seeing everything. We refused to sleep; blue streets cold as the Greenland ice sheet. nondisclosed_email@example.com (Mojave01)Tue, 16 Oct 2012 05:43:18 +0000