Play House [Part #02]

I. Le Petit Enfant Scientifique

Play House

II. une tâche de montagne

there is a mountain between
what he conceives and all the capacity
he has for becoming himself.
like Alps-Maritime rising over
cool, blue Mediterranean gulf—
an Atlantis, sparkling before
lost, waiting to be realized,
conceptualized.

a piece of mythica entwined
with the very sinews of
gesticulation.

Hey, Cal!

Well, I read your other poem, and I didn't think that I liked it all that much. It was nothing really amazing about it. It didn't stick out in the crowd of poems like I thought it would have.

On the other hand, this poem was great. I really liked it. It had a definite 'pulse' I will say. I don't know how to explain it, but it just sounded great, even though I don't know half of those words.

I don't have any complaints, really. I tripped over this part:

he has for becoming himself.

Because the wording is a bit difficult to get right away. It took me a couple tries to understand what you were trying to say here. I don't know have any other suggestions on how to fix it... it was just a little trip. That's all.

II. une tâche de montagne

That looks French-ish. Haha. Well, I really like it. I'll be looking for the next part.

-Jared

II. une tâche de montagne

there is a mountain between
what he conceives and all the capacity
he has for becoming himself.
like Alps-Maritime rising over
cool, blue Mediterranean gulf—
an Atlantis, sparkling before
lost, waiting to be realized,
conceptualized.

a piece of mythica entwined
with the very sinews of
gesticulation.

Whereas the title of the other poem is French, this poem's title does not sound anything like English, and you still hadn't brought the poem to French life--that is, I still cannot see the relationship between the French and the poem itself.

As the other one, this one seems also quite enjoyable, and as the other one, it really did feel unique, playful. Unlike the other one, this one seemed deeper and had a really nice, conveying idea behind it, whereas the other one only seemed to go for the smiles.

I had a slight problem with the before/lost line cut, as they did not seem to fit with each other and it really did stop me short of a breath. It feels like you made a mistake and forgot to add one more word after the "before".

The last stanza was fuzzling; as in fuzz from champagne and puzzling. It felt like bubbles, just for the decoration, and particularly confusing decoration indeed. I don't understand the "entwined with sinews of gesticulation" part. Yes, it sounds pretty awesome, but bleh.

Overall, I liked this one more than the other, though this one has its problems. And I think that if you join them together, it would work. They seem to fit each other like puzzle pieces. So it's good, really good.

Gadi.

II. une tâche de montagne

I had to look up tâche! I do not know that word yet, although, now I do. It brings an interesting light to the poem, but it seems oddly phrased... A task of mountain--I'm guessing you mean something like mountainous proportions, which is beautiful, but the French of it confuses me! You may need to explain to me what you are saying, haha, or trying to say? At the least, I think it would make more sense to say a task of the mountains, and make it plural. Although.. I might not have a clue what you are intending!

there is a mountain between
what he conceives and all the capacity
he has for becoming himself.

This is beautiful. I can't say why--because you wrote it? Lame, of course, but it just is, and one should accept the beauty of it. Again, your diction is precise. "Conceives", "capacity"--the C sounds give is a power. The B words, as well. You have such a knack for diction in sound, it knocks the air out of me. In a good way, of course. I love the simplicity behind this. There is nothing more to it than what is there--and what is there is perfect.

like Alps-Maritime rising over
cool, blue Mediterranean gulf—

Breathtaking--literally. This [and the following lines] make me gasp, it's so... visual and amazing. I cannot explain it.

an Atlantis, sparkling before
lost, waiting to be realized,
conceptualized.

Again, diction my darling! Atlantis--dreamy, real or fake? Fantasy, glorious, that of the gods. It is the most perfect noun. Sparkling--what can I say about that? Again, it's simple. You need not saying anything else, and I can see it already. The repeat or the word before is great, and causes no problems. My favorite word here is lost, because of how you use it. You noun it--so to speak. Something is before lost. The idea of that is overwhelming, beautiful, confusing, but just so right. The following lines are also amazing, the realized and conceptualized bits. And it is so perfect, because Atlantis is his "himself" so to speak--or what he conceives from the previous part and what he wants of himself. It's all confusing to speak in plain words, but here it makes sense.

a piece of mythica entwined
with the very sinews of
gesticulation.

So, you used three of my favorite words in the existence of all words. Do you know how happy that makes me? Entwined, sinews, gesticulation. And mythica is a beautiful word--though new to my vocabulary as of just a few seconds ago. I love how you throw those words in. It isn't just a show of genius either; it lends to the overall feel of the poem.

The flow of the first stanza was amazing, and I loved the rhythm of it. Like I said before, breathtaking. That's all I can say. I like that we're seeing from the scientist now [or so I assume] and his life to come. You aren't speaking directly of anything, but that is the kind of poem I love. You say one thing, completely mean another, and the reader is forced to hunt. Darling, darling! Please write more, as soon as possible, so I can fill my soul with your beautiful words once more.

Au revoir ^_~