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deepwaters Profile
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Love Poem #4: Yet Another Love Poem


“Love Poem #4: Yet Another Love Poem”

It’s pouring
outside a blind cat
hides
under a blue truck
listens
to the screaming
clouds in unbearable pain
of deserting the desert
in the depth of grey
the sound
of your guitar licks
my ears
you write a letter
to the moon on my back
sweet talking me
into that space
where
warmth
a herd of buffaloes
racing the packed snow
of my chest
unstoppable, suffocating, plunging, deafening
where
the still-drifting musical notes
dangle
from door knobs
where
beyond my dark nakedness
glassy green water
flavored by blue whales
awaits
where
I nightly hear
footsteps of a stale love affair
its cold breath
against my ear
its soiled claws
scratching my eyelids
begging me
to save us
from becoming another cliche.
Jan/12/2013, 4:04 pm Link to this post Send Email to deepwaters   Send PM to deepwaters
 
Bernie01 Profile
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Re: Love Poem #4: Yet Another Love Poem


D---

i love the last three lines, but i'm going to be harsh in reading through this poem.

sorry about that, but here goes:

It’s pouring
outside a blind cat

It rarely pours indoors.


hides
under a blue truck
listens
to the screaming
clouds

screaming clouds? Is the poem pushing this personification of nature too far?



in unbearable pain
of deserting the desert


declarative and clear, why not?

It’s pouring
a blind cat
hides under
a blue truck.




in the depth of grey
the sound
of your guitar licks
my ears

does licks, in this instance, mean notes sounded on the guitar or the tongue touching something, in this case the ears?


you write a letter
to the moon on my back
sweet talking me
into that space
where
warmth
a herd of buffaloes
racing the packed snow


just too far from a love poem about just plain folks. I like using the back of another as a desk, but the poem doesn’t stop there. Alas.



of my chest
unstoppable, suffocating, plunging, deafening
where
the still-drifting musical notes
dangle
from door knobs

gosh, rock fans don’t even talk like that
when stoned at a Depeche Mode concert.



where not needed and I doubt beyond is needed.



beyond my dark nakedness
glassy green water
flavored by blue whales
awaits
where
I nightly hear

big whales or small ocean for these creatures to flavor something other than when circumstances see them beached.

footsteps of a stale love affair
its cold breath
against my ear

seems more logical to go directly from footsteps to soiled claws.

footsteps of a stale love affair
its soiled claws
scratching my eyelids



but a wonderful, declarative end that was as unpredictable as it was fresh.


begging me
to save us
from becoming another cliche.


i repeat, great last lines.


my suggestion, let the poem speak, not the lyric flights of fancy.



quote:

It’s pouring
a blind cat
hides
under a blue truck
listens to the clouds
deserting the desert
in the depth of grey
the sound
of your guitar

you write a letter
to the moon on my back
sweet talking me.

 
drifting musical notes
dangle
beyond my nakedness

I nightly hear
footsteps of a stale love affair
its soiled claws
scratching my eyelids
begging me
to save us
from becoming another cliche.






bernie


 




Last edited by Bernie01, Jan/12/2013, 5:24 pm


---
Fall

Bob Grenier: the leaves / falling / out of the / water by the / table
Jan/12/2013, 5:14 pm Link to this post Send Email to Bernie01   Send PM to Bernie01 Blog
 
deepwaters Profile
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Re: Love Poem #4: Yet Another Love Poem


Bernie -

Thanks for commenting. While I usually don't go explaining intentions or decisions made in poems, I am going to make an exception here. For me, the last three lines make sense exactly because to the over-the-top expressions before. I do see that it is not working for you though emoticon

Thanks again for your detailed comments. Much obliged.
-shab
Jan/12/2013, 6:11 pm Link to this post Send Email to deepwaters   Send PM to deepwaters
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: Love Poem #4: Yet Another Love Poem


I think you might be on a roll, Shab. Line rhythm works, punctuated like. Keep the feeling honest and see what happens. That is all I know. And keep the alacrity of line.

Tere
Jan/12/2013, 11:43 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
vkp Profile
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Re: Love Poem #4: Yet Another Love Poem


quote:

sweet talking me
into that space
where
warmth
a herd of buffaloes
racing the packed snow
of my chest
unstoppable, suffocating, plunging, deafening
where
the still-drifting musical notes
dangle
from door knobs
where
beyond my dark nakedness
glassy green water
flavored by blue whales
awaits


DW, I agree that the last lines of the poem are breath stopping, but I love a lot more of the poem than that. There are some legit nitpicks, maybe about it's raining "outside" etc. but the lines above that I have quoted work for me utterly. I like the herd of buffaloes. The feelings of love, illicit, or licit, happy, or doomed, tend to be over the top anyway. How to describe that without being trite? The herd of buffaloes stampeding the n's chest works for me.

The green water flavored by whales made me sit up and smile -- I love it. The verb is excellent there -- and evokes the idea of infusion, or I see the huge blue-gray bodies tinging the green water so that a new color is invented, a new color that is as indescribable as over the top passion. Or I imagine seeing those gray-blue bodies through the transparency of the "glassy green water" and seeing that new color, a visual flavor. I don't know. Maybe I'm bringing too much of myself to this, but anyway, my two cents.
vkp
Jan/13/2013, 8:23 am Link to this post Send Email to vkp   Send PM to vkp Blog
 
Katlin Profile
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Re: Love Poem #4: Yet Another Love Poem


Hi shab,

Ha! I love this. The same way I loved your poem about stealing the apple. It's got that same type of exuberant vibe. Here's how I read those first few lines:

It’s pouring,
outside a blind cat
hides
under a blue truck
listens
to the screaming,
clouds in unbearable pain

It could be read as "it's pouring outside," but I didn't. And one could ask, where else would a blue truck be but outside? In a garage? I thought the screaming referred to the clouds, of course, but I also thought there could be another kind of screaming going on somewhere, silent screaming only a blind cat might hear.

The ending is excellent, unexpected to this reader. Love the title too. I agree with Tere about the rhythm and line breaks. The way you've written the poem tells me how to read it.

Two small suggestions:

Perhaps change "unbearable" before pain for being too much of a cliche? The use of pain is good, though, as I think typically anger would be the emotion identified.

Drop "of" before "deserting the desert":

It’s pouring
outside a blind cat
hides
under a blue truck
listens
to the screaming
clouds in unbearable pain
deserting the desert
in the depth of grey
the sound
your guitar licks
my ears

I had no problem with the guitar's music licking the N's ears. Reminds me of "when my guitar gently weeps." I like Bernie's tightened version of the ending, but it eliminates the image of the ears, which refers back to those earlier lines, so I would keep to the ending you have.

Now regarding those buffaloes; they made me think of this:

"Gods and goddesses in world mythology personify different primal energies at work in our bodies. So, when the dark river god of the blood enters and moves in my body, I am no longer the familiar personality complex that I call “me.” Instead, I am swept along on the stream of male power coursing through my veins, with its own rhythms and melodies, which I am hearing as if for the first time. My partner is no longer ego, but primordial woman, beyond time and space. In our lovemaking we could as well be lion and lioness, natives in the jungle, lord and lady, or dolphins in the sea. We are partners in an ageless dance." Journey of the Heart, John Welwood

Much enjoyed reading and thinking about this poem, shab. Wonderful stuff. Thanks for posting it.


Last edited by Katlin, Jan/13/2013, 10:17 am
Jan/13/2013, 9:43 am Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
deepwaters Profile
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Re: Love Poem #4: Yet Another Love Poem


Tere-
Thanks for your comment. Glad to know the rhythm works for you.

---
vpk
The flavored water came from my own experience with blue whales. There are enormous enough that when you are with them in the ocean, it does feel they occupy the whole ocean. True that intellectually you know there is ocean beyond where you and the whale are playing, but being next an animal whose heart is the size of a RangeRover is more about instinct and feeling, than intellect. So, I am glad it made you sit up and smile. Couldn't have asked for a better reaction. I actually have a poem about that experience, maybe I will post it. It is not one that you could intellectually break apart to pieces though. Anyways, something for me to think about. Thank you for that too.

---
Kat-
You are tight about the "outside." It was meant that the cat is outside, not to clarify that it is not raining inside, which would make me somewhat ill mentally :P Not that I am not. But, that's a whole other post.

"unbearable" before pain, you are right on. I dislike that. Will play with it some. Thank you.

---
Thank you all for your feedback. Much appreciated. Apologies for my delayed response; I am trying to catch up with life.
-s
Feb/16/2013, 3:36 pm Link to this post Send Email to deepwaters   Send PM to deepwaters
 
ineese Profile
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Re: Love Poem #4: Yet Another Love Poem


deep waters,

I like the blind cat.

I would omit this:

"unstoppable, suffocating, plunging, deafening
 

and some of the other modifiers
and go for verbage.

I'm not sure I like the ending cliche
line because it makes me think more about cliches than I want to.

Keep the cat.
Feb/18/2013, 7:33 am Link to this post Send PM to ineese Blog
 
queenfisher Profile
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Re: Love Poem #4: Yet Another Love Poem


some great images
i love the pace - it's the kind of poem - would love to try my hand at - after all the hard work has been done of course!

hope you will excuse - & please take what you will - if you find helpful:

a blind cat hides
under a blue truck
listens to the rain
the sound of your guitar
licks my ears you write
on my back sweet talking
me into that space
where warmth a herd
of buffaloes race
the packed snow
of my chest
unstoppable,
suffocating,
plunging,
deafening

musical notes
dangle from door
knobs beyond my dark
nakedness glassy green
water flavored by blue
whales awaits I hear
footsteps of a stale
love affair
cold breath
against my ear
soiled claws
scratching
my eyelids
begging me
to save us
from becoming
a cliche
 
Feb/19/2013, 1:46 am Link to this post Send Email to queenfisher   Send PM to queenfisher Blog
 


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