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ineese Profile
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Twilight (rev.)





I'm light going back,
block by block,
into a secret place.
Soon my hands disobey me,
my face a white surface of lily
with an expression once loved
now spindled into a cold thing

as vision wanders into a room
where switches are beyond reach.
The silver table is cold near the rose
winged chair

I move toward the fireplace
begin to imagine the warmth
of paper airplanes,
the fire of pink sleeves
around my temples.















org.

The brain controls everything,
I wait for the earth
its fire to spark,
wind surfs
in the sound of children's hands
clap to morning sun.
Such response to rose and diamond shapes
over their toes.
They know to dance, to keep going,
because they never stopped.

I'm light going back,
block by block, into its secret place.
Soon my hands will disobey me,
my face a white surface of lily
as a twilight I once loved
spindles into this cold thing.

Last edited by ineese, Feb/4/2014, 6:01 pm
Oct/27/2012, 2:56 pm Link to this post Send PM to ineese Blog
 
vkp Profile
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Re: Twilight


Ineese, This poem is so poignant -- it is heartbreaking to me. The evocations of the first strophe are so lyrical and full of youth, and the second half of the poem seems melancholy and yet philosophical at the same time. I have a few small thoughts, mainly with the first strophe. No comment yet on the first line -- pondering. It is very interesting as a place to start and I imagine there is something there I am missing re. your intentions...?

The brain controls everything,
and so I wait for the earth
and its fire to spark,
and wind surfs I'd consider period after spark and deleting "and" here.
in the sound of children's hands
that clap as morning sun appears.Think about "clapping" instead of "that clap" -- as I think you are getting at the idea of the wind surfs in the sound made by their clapping...?
Such response to rose and diamond shapes
over their toes! I love this idea. I wonder if it might be even more powerful to evoke their response with imagery rather than comment on the fact that they have a notable response.
They know to dance, to keep going,
because they never stopped.

I am nothing more than light going back,
block by block, into its secret place. So visual and visceral.
Soon my hands will barely obey me,
my face a white surface of lily
and the twilight I once loved
spindles into this cold thing. I am pierced....
How can this be? this entire strophe is incredible to me and powerful and gorgeous. I could live without the last liine -- feel it diminishes the power a bit, but don't feel too too strongly about it.

vkp
Oct/28/2012, 12:14 pm Link to this post Send Email to vkp   Send PM to vkp Blog
 
ineese Profile
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Re: Twilight


vkp,

So pleased with your reply. I've already
consigned to dropping the end line. I think
the question mars it and saw that when I came
back to it after a few days.

The opening, the brain controls everything.
I wanted to begin with a strong sentence,
something that isn't subjective, but scientifically true and then go into how the earth draws a response from everything, i.e.
that perhaps the earth is like a brain.
Perhaps that thought came through as too subtle.

I'm revising, but of course, I just posted it
yesterday here (and elsewhere) so am savoring
the wonderful feedback.

I'm glad it meant something to you. I am looking forward to some revision but I don't think it will be too hard.

the white lily line needs polishing as well.

Oct/28/2012, 3:01 pm Link to this post Send PM to ineese Blog
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: Twilight


Ineese, I have this theory. Of the three categories of poetry, the lyric poet's voice is the most slender, the one most difficult to hear when the cocktail party is ongoing. But also the one whose tensile strength is like silk. Your poems can, often do, demonstrate my point. And yes to dropping the last line. A false step.

Tere
Nov/3/2012, 12:30 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
ineese Profile
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Re: Twilight


Tere,

Your reply itself felt like silk. No Joking!

When I first started to write poetry I heard

lyrical, lyric, song like, seamed in rhthmn and of course,
I liked that because it told me who I naturally was when I wrote
because I knew I wasn't trying to formulate anything.

I so much appreciate your feedback and generous comments.
Since writing this poem, I was adamant about keeping that last line
but the past two days, I find I dislike it. That is why letting a poem
sit is so important and such sage advice. I'm going to lose that last line.

Thanks so much! Revising.
Nov/3/2012, 12:55 pm Link to this post Send PM to ineese Blog
 
Zakzzz5 Profile
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Re: Twilight


ineese,

Not sure, but are you the one I've said writes strong "romantic" poetry? This is very good. For some reason, Yeats popped into my head. You've got a few small problems with the poem yet, but overall the writing is exquisite. Thanks for posting. Zak
 b]ineese wrote:

The brain controls everything,
and so I wait for the earth
and its fire to spark,[I agree, you could use a period.]
and wind surfs
in the sound of children's hands
that clap as morning sun appears. [The problem is "that" but not sure "clapping" is better.]
Such response to rose and diamond shapes
over their toes! [Is rose a "shape"?]
They know to dance, to keep going,
because they never stopped.

I am nothing more than light going back,
block by block, into its secret place. [light going back "block by block"? What does this mean?]
Soon my hands will barely obey me,
my face a white surface of lily
and the twilight I once loved
spindles into this cold thing.
How can this be? [Yes, the last line could go.]

Nov/10/2012, 9:11 am Link to this post Send Email to Zakzzz5   Send PM to Zakzzz5
 
ineese Profile
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Re: Twilight


Zak, I don't remember anyone telling me that.
I doubt it. Romantic poetry isn't really something I've a great deal of interest in
but some of my poems may affect different people in other ways. Its hard to say.

thank for the help with this one. I'm going
to try to revise very soon.
Nov/12/2012, 4:52 pm Link to this post Send PM to ineese Blog
 
Katlin Profile
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Re: Twilight


Hi ineese,

I like the extended "light" metaphor at play in this poem. For me S2 works well. I didn't even dislike the last line question the way others did. Go figure. I find S1 more problematic. I like the first three lines but think the rest of the stanza needs tweaked. No suggestions on how you might do that. Looking forward to the revision.
Nov/24/2012, 9:11 pm Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
ineese Profile
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Re: Twilight


K, Than you and I am so late in revising this or anything but hope to get back into the swing of things. I think you are right
about S1. In coming back to it, I can see
it sort of just sits there. agh.
Feb/14/2013, 6:28 pm Link to this post Send PM to ineese Blog
 
Bernie01 Profile
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Re: Twilight


I---

just talk to me, sans the party dress.

these first eight lines way over the top for me; and as for the brain, well, you can imagine how that strikes this poet desperately in need of a liver transplant.

you wrote:


I wanted to begin with a strong sentence,
something that isn't subjective, but scientifically true and then go into how the earth draws a response from everything, i.e.
that perhaps the earth is like a brain.
Perhaps that thought came through as too subtle.



the brain is a series of chemical and electrical reactions, it does what it can; but pain, heartbreak, religoius fervor, height, a taste for bell peppers ain't controlled in the brain. that's why nitric oxide works but still punishes the body, and novocaine stops the pain impulse before ever sending a memo to the brain.

but google the latest news about ariel sharon's six year coma---it might actually stengthen the case of your first sentence.

you ask the brain, in your view or mine, to do plenty---


I wait for the earth
its fire to spark,
wind surfs


and not just wind surfs, but you toss in the kids no doubt minding their own business on the playground:



in the sound of children's hands
clap to morning sun.
Such response to rose and diamond shapes
over their toes.
They know to dance, to keep going,
because they never stopped.



who told you all this? maybe you mean you never stopped, i would like that much better

  
i think of Pink Floyd:


Another Brick In the Wall:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvPpAPIIZyo


Lyrics:

We don't need no education.
We don't need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
Teacher, leave those kids alone.
Hey, Teacher, leave those kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.
We don't need no education.
We don't need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
Teachers, leave those kids alone.
Hey, Teacher, leave those kids alone!
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.....



if i thought you lagging in the dust, i'd shut up; but i feel you know all this---so, excellent poet, you have the capability of becoming, so become.


and here is that poet:



I'm light going back,
block by block, into its secret place.
Soon my hands will disobey me,
my face a white surface of lily
as a twilight I once loved
spindles into this cold thing.


read Tere's first comment about my poem Winter Internment. the voice, he felt, was nauthentic.

you can spend time in a defensive posture, or have creative fun and rewrite, rethink, reFEEL the poem.

but don't attribute your sentiments, hopes, fears, ambitions to my daughter, or to me, or to good ole mom nature; be a stand up poet, tough, deep feeling AND deep thinking.

you're holding the dice.

think of you as a poetry pal, i shared my liver situation, what's with the North Wind of paralysis creeping into your life?


bernie


 
 

 










  

Last edited by Bernie01, Feb/15/2013, 1:08 am


---
Fall

Bob Grenier: the leaves / falling / out of the / water by the / table
Feb/14/2013, 7:52 pm Link to this post Send Email to Bernie01   Send PM to Bernie01 Blog
 
ineese Profile
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Re: Twilight


Bernie,

I will go over your poem as well.
No, I'm too old & tired to be defensive.
I do want to leave behind quality work
but knowing me, I'll live another 25 years.
ha.
yes, well noted. I suppose being rusty
doesn't count, well, maybe a little.
I should take the paring knife to thisone
or call in the brain surgeon? Seriously,
You are right. I'll take out those parts
I feel can be saved and give it a whirl ---
again. Thanks. Appreciate the honest
and quality feedback. We do have
the same tastes in poets and I also
consider you a poetry pal.

I also felt the stanza you liked
was the best. I will work on this.


If the weather ever stays warm, I do my
best work on the veranda.
Feb/14/2013, 9:22 pm Link to this post Send PM to ineese Blog
 
Bernie01 Profile
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Re: Twilight (rev.)


Kathleen---

works much better for me.

the closing images i would re-examine one by one; especially the tears as silver pot...

nothing wrong with tears that stain the memorized rose winged chair,


paper airplanes?

very much like


the pink sleeves of temples

...but is it right here? think i'm missing a connection to the opening verse.



Soon my hands will disobey me,


my arms in the pink sleeve of temples.

 


Norman Dubie:


“The geese broke from the shadows like handkerchiefs out of the sleeves of black dresses at a burial.”

(Monologue of Two Moons, Nudes with Crests)




Lady Murasaki describes Genji at age 17:


“Over soft, layered white gowns he had only a dress cloak, unlaced at the neck. ... lying there in the lamplight, against a pillar, he looked so beautiful that one could have wished him a woman.”





bernie





Last edited by Bernie01, Feb/15/2013, 5:36 pm


---
Fall

Bob Grenier: the leaves / falling / out of the / water by the / table
Feb/15/2013, 5:24 pm Link to this post Send Email to Bernie01   Send PM to Bernie01 Blog
 
Katlin Profile
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Re: Twilight (rev.)


Kathleen,

Wow, the revision is really powerful. Starting with:

I'm light going back,
block by block, into its secret place.
Soon my hands will disobey me,

is a strong beginning. The image of a once loved twilight to describe the loss of vision is moving. Literally stops me, takes my breath away. An elderly friend of mine, who died about a decade ago, had Parkinson's disease and macular degeneration. Parts of your poem help me to understand what it must have been like for him, from the inside out.

I stumbled a bit on this line:

Silver pots called tears stain the rose

Maybe just:

Silver pots of tears stain. . .

or

Silver tears stain. . . .

I think the use of "called" draws too much attention to the metaphor.

The ending is enigmatic; I'm still turning it over in my mind.
Feb/22/2013, 7:34 am Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
vkp Profile
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Re: Twilight (rev.)


Ineese, This is an excellent revision. It evokes such feeling -- a melancholy tenderness. A tender melancholy.

I know what Kat means about the silver pots called tears, but I don't think they are silver pots OF tears, but that the tears are so fat and luminous they appear to be silver pots and are silver pots. We just call them tears.... But it still sounds a little clunky.

The new opening is a stunner. Overall an impressive rewrite. Thanks.
vkp
Feb/22/2013, 8:41 am Link to this post Send Email to vkp   Send PM to vkp Blog
 
ineese Profile
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Re: Twilight (rev.)


Katlin,


Thank you




Last edited by ineese, Mar/21/2015, 4:12 pm
Feb/23/2013, 6:23 pm Link to this post Send PM to ineese Blog
 


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