We Drove All Night Into a Dozen Adieus -- New Title: A Stone Balustrade Parallel to the Sea https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/t2020 Runboard| We Drove All Night Into a Dozen Adieus -- New Title: A Stone Balustrade Parallel to the Sea en-us Fri, 29 Mar 2024 14:12:03 +0000 Fri, 29 Mar 2024 14:12:03 +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: We Drove All Night Into a Dozen Adieus -- New Title: A Stone Balustrade Parallel to the Seahttps://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14267,from=rss#post14267https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14267,from=rss#post14267VKP--- i understand about the sudden use of the pronoun, she. i first used the woman's name as they drive along the shore. still kicking over solutions, but your comment makes me realize this is a real concern and not a phantom by an overly sensitive poet...LOL. K--- good lord, you are so right on both counts as far as i am concerned: take the current opening to a new poem, broadcloth; and dump with our youthfulness. We throw ourselves into the waves like suicides; half-naked and gleaming with our youthfulness; a light spray of champagne on her lips; it's clear she is drinking again; We throw ourselves into the waves like suicides; glassy and sleek, a foaming serf slaps our bare chests. A light spray of champagne on her lips; it's clear she is drinking again; one of several reasons why i workshop, to get such insights as you express. wow. great stuff. bernie nondisclosed_email@example.com (36064)Mon, 17 Dec 2012 23:16:08 +0000 Re: We Drove All Night Into a Dozen Adieus -- New Title: A Stone Balustrade Parallel to the Seahttps://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14264,from=rss#post14264https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14264,from=rss#post14264Hi Bernie, I like the new title and as always am impressed by the seemingly effortless way you turn out first-rate poems. A few thoughts on ths one: Drastic idea maybe, but I'd cut the first stanza and use it somewhere else: The moon sags into the rose glove of the earth's quarter dark. start the poem here: We drive the Jersey shore where the owlish color of hollyhocks lasts into September. Green pennants billow from cupolas and chains of yellow bulbs droop below the plaster façade of casinos. Several hotels grow luminous and for lunch we buy lavender plums; their violet eyes lapse and close as we rest and eat. Old garages line the lower road like women taking the sun; All of the images above are luscious, sensuous and work well. In this stanza, I'd consider cutting "with our youthfulness" as being too self-conscious and unnecessary: We throw ourselves into the waves like suicides; half-naked and gleaming with our youthfulness; a light spray of champagne on her lips; it's clear she is drinking again; the handsome sea, moody as cigarette smoke; a cirrus of low clouds turning the afternoon the color of a pilot light. nondisclosed_email@example.com (Katlin)Mon, 17 Dec 2012 19:33:13 +0000 Re: We Drove All Night Into a Dozen Adieus -- New Title: A Stone Balustrade Parallel to the Seahttps://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14173,from=rss#post14173https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14173,from=rss#post14173Love the additions. This is great and smacks my inner eye with the wonderful familiarity that an unfamiliar turn of phrase can evoke: quote:Old garages line the lower road like women taking the sun; The use of the third person -- "she" -- is startling and a little off-putting just suddenly there, and then gone. Maybe a name, or an identifier. But I can see how that might be awkward too. Just a small thing but it stopped me, pulled me out of the moment. Other than that... yay. vkp nondisclosed_email@example.com (vkp)Sun, 09 Dec 2012 10:54:25 +0000 Re: We Drove All Night Into a Dozen Adieus -- New Title: A Stone Balustrade Parallel to the Seahttps://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14162,from=rss#post14162https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14162,from=rss#post14162Tere--- yes, atmosphere, the pathetic fallacy of Ruskin, the influence of Eliot and Lowell--- In the grandiloquent lettering on Mother’s coffin, Lowell had been misspelled LOVEL. The corpse was wrapped like panettone in Italian tinfoil. yes, their power over me to break my heart at will. you're right about that title---i changed it. right about something else, the poem lacked a third act. i've added several lines: We throw ourselves into the waves like suicides; half-naked and gleaming with our youthfulness; a light spray of champagne on her lips; it's clear she is drinking again; once again, great stuff. and thanks again, Bernie    nondisclosed_email@example.com (36064)Sat, 08 Dec 2012 15:20:54 +0000 Re: We Drove All Night Into a Dozen Adieushttps://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14154,from=rss#post14154https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14154,from=rss#post14154The thing about your poetry is that it can frequently be read for the pleasure of image play alone. Often i find this to be true. VKP has already pointed to two such playful moments. Cannot be sure what the poem is after. Especially confused by the disconnect between title and text. Title prepares me for something nocturnal. Poem delivers something of the late afternoon. One thing I think I notice. I know this kind of shore, having grown up on it. Poem conveys that particular environment quite well and without actually trying to. Atmospheric like. Terenondisclosed_email@example.com (Terreson)Sat, 08 Dec 2012 13:46:48 +0000 Re: We Drove All Night Into a Dozen Adieushttps://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14130,from=rss#post14130https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14130,from=rss#post14130VKP--- glad the first two images caught your fancy. mine too...LOL. Z--- OK, let's tone down that liturgical service as you phrased it; no hand to hand transfers. now, that opening image about the earth's quarter dark; i mean that moment of a full moon sitting on the horizon so close to earth. at least here in my Mojave desert i have never seen that circumstance produce "moonlight" if we mean what f. scott fitzgerald means when he says:   "they came to a place where there were no trees and the sidewalk was white with moonlight" (Daisy and Gatsby, p. 106). thanks again for your always helpful feedback. bernie nondisclosed_email@example.com (36064)Wed, 05 Dec 2012 18:28:43 +0000 Re: We Drove All Night Into a Dozen Adieushttps://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14128,from=rss#post14128https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14128,from=rss#post14128Bernie, I criticize the hands taking the plums, but not sure it's something you need to take to heart. Your sensibility is different from mine, more sensitive and vulnerable in some areas where I may not be. There are trade-offs. I hope my crit helps, if not please disregard, etc. etc. Zak 36064 wrote: Revision #1 The moon sags into the rose glove of the earth's quarter dark. [earth's quarter dark doesn't work for me because I think of a sliver of moon. Not familiar with the turn of phrase.] We drive the Jersey shore where the owlish color of hollyhocks lasts until September. [Wonderful stanza except for the word "until". It jars.] Green pennants billow from cupolas and yellow bulbs sag below the plaster façade of casinos. [Excellent. I can feel the wind without your saying "wind."] Several hotels grow luminous [Good technique!!] and for lunch we take lavender plums into our hands as their violet eyes lapse and close. ["Taking lavender plums into our hands" is a bit too precious. Too much like a liturgical service in one of the High Churches.] Old garages line the lower road like women taking the sun; the handsome sea, moody as cigarette smoke; a cirrus of low clouds turning the afternoon the color of a pilot light. [Good series of images. It takes a bit to visualize it but it works.] Original: The moon sags into the rose glove of the earth's quarter dark. We drove the Jersey shore where the owlish color of hollyhocks lasts until September; salt-weathered benches opposite casinos; cupolas flying green and faded yellow bulbs call gamblers to try their luck. The handsome sea, moody as cigarette smoke. A cirrus of low clouds turns the afternoon to the color of a pilot light. nondisclosed_email@example.com (Zakzzz5)Wed, 05 Dec 2012 11:40:50 +0000 Re: We Drove All Night Into a Dozen Adieushttps://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14119,from=rss#post14119https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14119,from=rss#post14119Some gorgeous images. Especially that contained in the first two lines. I am put off by changes in verb tense and also something about the construction of the second strophe -- the line-up of items separated by semi-colons. There is a (probably intentional) lack of parallelism that is (to me) jarring. I'd also remove the word "to" from the penultimate line. That said, I feel that this poem exists for these lines to be in the world: quote:The moon sags into the rose glove of the earth's quarter dark. and: quote:where the owlish color of hollyhocks lasts until September When the rest of the poem is working a little better, those lines may be happier! nondisclosed_email@example.com (vkp)Tue, 04 Dec 2012 11:03:00 +0000 We Drove All Night Into a Dozen Adieus -- New Title: A Stone Balustrade Parallel to the Seahttps://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14112,from=rss#post14112https://bdelectablemnts.runboard.com/p14112,from=rss#post14112Revision #2 A Stone Balustrade Parallel to the Sea We drive the Jersey shore where the owlish color of hollyhocks lasts into September. Green pennants billow from cupolas and chains of yellow bulbs droop below the plaster façade of casinos. Several hotels grow luminous and for lunch we buy lavender plums; their violet eyes lapse and close as we rest and eat. Old garages line the lower road like women taking the sun; We throw ourselves into the waves like suicides; glassy and sleek, a foaming cerf slaps our bare chests. a light spray of champagne on her lips; it's clear she is drinking again; the handsome sea, moody as cigarette smoke; a cirrus of low clouds turning the afternoon the color of a pilot light. Revision #1 New title: A Stone Balustrade Parallel to the Sea The moon sags into the rose glove of the earth's quarter dark. We drive the Jersey shore where the owlish color of hollyhocks lasts into September. Green pennants billow from cupolas and chains of yellow bulbs droop below the plaster façade of casinos. Several hotels grow luminous and for lunch we buy lavender plums; their violet eyes lapse and close as we rest and eat. Old garages line the lower road like women taking the sun; We throw ourselves into the waves like suicides; half-naked and gleaming with our youthfulness; a light spray of champagne on her lips; it's clear she is drinking again; the handsome sea, moody as cigarette smoke; a cirrus of low clouds turning the afternoon the color of a pilot light. Original: The moon sags into the rose glove of the earth's quarter dark. We drove the Jersey shore where the owlish color of hollyhocks lasts until September; salt-weathered benches opposite casinos; cupolas flying green and faded yellow bulbs call gamblers to try their luck. The handsome sea, moody as cigarette smoke. A cirrus of low clouds turns the afternoon to the color of a pilot light. nondisclosed_email@example.com (36064)Tue, 04 Dec 2012 05:31:02 +0000