Navita's NaPo Poems

Fantaisie-Impromptu --

This is it, this is the trembling bridge
between blackness and light
floating through my fingers
folded, it is the hoof-step beat
that threatens sleep and wake
to uncoil in the early hours upon
the saucer-sky, the edge that
plunges through the wall of
churning time and I will break it.

I'm not sure I like the opening three words -- they seem extraneous, and I think that the remainder of the opening line fares just fine without them. I follow you until the fourth line, when you talk about "hoof-step and beat" -- after reading your explanation of the poem, I don't see how hoof steps relate, and the metaphor, if there is one, is lost on me. Before reading the explanation, I was equally nonplussed by that tidbit, along with the description of the sky as a saucer. Overall, the stanza is so-so, just because I think it tries too hard to be abstract, without any really innovative use of language.

I will. In my frozen dream there
was a balcony, a huge expanse
on which an obsidian jungle
of cellos and violas lay, every
kind of instrument imaginable.
I hurtled through corridors
and baby practice rooms, dusty,
out onto the open space
where the grand piano slumbers
and falling, falling, landed
far on the grass below, looking
up toward the shining beast.

Again, your first two words don't really do anything for me. I love the description of the cellos and violins as an obsidian jungle -- excellent image. The baby practice rooms and slumbering grand pianos is also pleasing. However, your final three lines smack a little too much of Alice In Wonderland , and again, it is abstract, without being paired with appropriately innovative language -- it feels tacked on for the sake of itself.

This is where the universe joins
to shake hands with the sapient,
a bleary college that I am
stealing through, the spinning
music room perched above
the dining hall, blank-eyed
and I will shatter it in a single
sweeping cascade of sharps
the entrails of the Impromptu
resounding toward the
fear-flung sky – and in a dark
fortissimo faster than the
shooting stars the world will
wake; it will wake, quivering,
boneless and burning scarlet.

This final stanza is where you grab me and keep me. It's a lovely piece of writing, and it far outshines the preceding stanzas. "I will shatter it in a single/sweeping cascade of sharps/the entrails of the Impromptu" is my favorite line. The final two lines are also lovely. I'm a little iffy on your shooting star metaphor, just because shooting stars are so démodé.

--

So, I liked this. However, it feels that there is too much "head" in the first two stanzas -- I feel that you are focusing too much on intellectualizing the moment, and not including enough "heart" and imagery to complete the poem. Also, a word on abstraction. I'm not overly familiar with abstract art -- either poem or painting, but I think I know what I'd like to read. I feel that with an abstract concept in poetry, it should be paired with colorful language. I'd like to see more euphony, and a word choice that matches the idea content. For instance, the only words or phrases in the first stanza that interest me at all are "trembling bridge", "through my fingers /folded", and "uncoil". The other words and images are just bland. Of course, take this with a grain of salt, coming from me

You are a wonderful writer, and I ADORE the idea of this poem -- although the blend of real experience and the concept of creation/destruction that you discussed with Clo could have been sewn together a little more coherently. I think what I found lacking in this piece was that voice of yours that I so love in the rest of these poems.

Good luck,

-Kylan

Well, Kylan and Clo, between you two, you have certainly managed to 'shatter it in a sweeping cascade of sharps' with regards to the poem! Thank you - once again - for everything you have given me to work with; such insightful comments, and completely spot on, of course.

.





Kylan - you said that I had intellectualised the first two stanzas. I agree completely - they are in my head - the drama as it builds up, the warped description of it all the way I want it with regards to the theme.

With the first stanza - note the changes - I've kept the image of 'halfness' and 'fragility' throughout - the bridge, the unhinged doors, sleep and wake uncoiling, the half-swept sky, the edge of time - were I to be any more obvious, I would be shouting, so yeah. No freaky saucers or hoof-steps. I've tried to ground it by making the setting more apparent in the first few lines, and hope that I've also lessened the abstraction by that. After incessant repetitions of the fragility of the moment (all in my head = description of the setting), voila the final decision - to break it. The emotion, I hope, simmers under the surface throughout - kind of like this crazed, frenzied desire to destroy this fragile bridge/time/place, and only clearly appears in that one mad line that jumps out - 'I will break it.'

Stanza two borders on the insane, yeah, quite Alice-in-Wonderlandy, even without those lines. This is a reflection stanza on the past, the dream, and the ultimate line that brings us back to the present by its obvious statement on destruction. Although there's more action here than in the last stanza, I can still see it being quite 'head' even now, and the emotion is less, I think.

Stanza three you liked because something actually happens here = action, which is probably why it gripped you more, because with that came the emotion, made especially raw in the last couple of lines. Less head, more heart here, agreed.

The emotion is madness. The purpose/intellect/theme is destruction. (I have discarded creation as much as possible). The medium/imagery/metaphor for both is through music. Just one glaring thing is still missing...and that is voice. I see what you mean - the head+heart+imagery drives the poem a lot more than me = lack of 'voice'. There is a certain lack of clarity in the way I speak to the audience - and that may be because it's abstract or because it has to be that way, as a mad person's actions are hard to comprehend.

I'd love to know what you think of the newer version. Thank you again.

.

Technically, the whole point of NaPo is to just writewritewrite, and then post the product here for short little comments. But, you know, we've kind of ditched that, haven't we

Your edited version is much better. I'm flattered that you took nearly all of my suggestions. The result is a much more coherent, but still digestibly fragmented version of your first poem. You manage to tether that image that was buried in there somewhere and polish it to shining. It much tighter now.

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I love the first april 11 poem. Very true. Nothing is new -- only variations. And, though I'm guilty of using it myself, I hate the necessary cliche of the word cliche. As overused as the word is, though, sometimes it's warranted -- plain and simple, which your poem addresses, of course. You managed to communicate an idea here that I thought maybe could end up sinking under its own non-poetry, but you paired it very nicely with exciting language, and left nothing up for debate.

I love the second even more. The pairing of music and anatomy is delightful. Whenever I read a poem and wish that I'd thought of it first -- that's when you've done your job. You've got some lovely lines here...

orchestra of nerves and organs

...

burning celestas, orbits a
jet of blue-white downpour
the soprano harp sweet and
high. and for the barest

moment, I can pretend,
amid torn ligaments and the
creaking backbone curve,
a sort of heaven could exist.

A few words of criticism --

"Piccolo stars", though the image captures me, feels too...predictable. Strangely, this is the only phrase that really made me stumble. At first I loved it, then it seemed to obvious that you'd compare star to piccolo...So, maybe change it up?

Use of the word "Crimson" -- I hate the word crimson. If you want a cliche in poetry, there you have it. Just that word.

Anyway, thanks for the reads.

-Kylan

Yes! Glad you liked them, Kylan, and yes, the writewritewrite thing has gone out the window.

*peeks in*

Hello again! Yeah, I came by once before to express my enjoyment in a very simple 'I like this' and was promptly overwhelmed by the obscenely long commentary of others! So I decided to come back and use a few more words to say that I like this. Cos I really do. Really really. Aren't I just amazing with words? Yeah. Um.

You're awesome. Specifically because of Cassy Randolphson. That poem rocked my socks. Everything else was nice to read, but that one stood out to me.

Thanks Jigster; and don't let anyone's terrifically long commentary stop you from the sweet and simple 'I like this!' I appreciated that you spent some time using a few more letters of the alphabet to express the same thing - and, yes, I love Cassy, too. Clo reckons she could be a character in a novel - there's a good idea

Science is a freaking circus! As a geek with (hopefully) a sense of humor, I immediately appreciate this poem.

where the hell is that
anorexic vein-whorl I’m
supposed to be looking at on
this magnetic field? Right here?
Right where? Bollocks,

Love the incredulity and sass.

...that
electric pulse is my own
beat,

Though technically, an electric pulse is a singular event and not comparable to a pulse with which we're more familiar.

scribbling almost as
monstrous fast as he gorges
the pizza

I'm glad you did your research ^_~

The "chem. labs" stopped me for a second (right before the end, too!). I reckon you don't need the period.
In the end: I'm a fan.

Hey everyone - nothing like a good jolt and a tad of humour to keep you going, eh?

Ah, I love these poems so much. Now, I don't think I can give you much critique because freestyle poems are not my area of expertise at all. Your words flow well, though, which I think is what a lot of people have trouble with. I noticed this more so in the earlier poems that sometimes an odd word or something broke the flow for a second. I think you've worked on that though. Your poems are so original, just because of the quirky attitude and words, it seems to say 'this isn't any other poem, this is my poem.' Which is really good, and important for any writer. You also have lovely imagery and your poems evoke emotion. A few that I liked the best were Recuerdo, II Middle Ground, Land of the Long White Clouds, Cassy Rondolphson, I loved how you used musical references in Doc, and A Freaking Circus made me laugh although I'm not much of a science person myself. Today's poem was good as far as I see it, I don't really have much criticism because I tend to not like reading that kind of stuff for some reason. I don't know, but I think you captured the voice pretty well.

Thanks Chelarose - I'm glad you found some you liked; and even more pleased that others made you laugh. I'm a little iffy about April 14's poem as well, but it's all just trial and error for me, here; it's a bizarre style, but I felt like something different.

So...I wrote some little poems today, which didn't fill me in the slightest - but hey, it's just another experimento of many, so here's a sampling of the fruit:



..


A thank you to all the YWS NaPo writers here who inspired these cute littler ones (yes, I've written several others, not up here) - Jiggity, Elinor, Demeter, Kamas, and Kylan, for introducing me to Ted Kooser.

Nice bite-sizing!
I'm not really sure from what position the narrator is watching, though (as in, spectator, competitor, pupil?). I like the arabesque, unraveling stars mucho.

Pen-Drive

a longer eyebrow raise

That's kind of weird. Not sure what you mean: longer than what?
I like the comparison to water and staying afloat. Maybe consider using that throughout, since the only comparison that does not fit in, then, is the "plummet and butterfly bluely" (which is still nice, though, despite the notion of a plummeting butterfly is a slight stretch).

I imagine no one will make it through 30 poems unless they try something different, eh? Plus, it would be extremely boring =\

I love Ice-Skaters, especially the closing image and this line:

"a separate song of serpents"

Lovely sibilant alliteration and imagery. Also, I definitely see Ted Kooser poking through this one. I recommend buying the collection "Delights and Shadows". It's a great Kooser starter.

Pen-Drive is good as well, but I appreciate Ice-Skaters especially for its more obvious, everyman meaning. Although, your closing line in this one is excellent as well. Not sure about the use of the word "bluely" as much as I love how it feels on my tongue.

So, you nailed your conclusions. And your poems.

-Kylan

Sargsauce - thanks for the advice, and to answer your Q; I am a person on the sidelines of the skating rink in the first poem. And 'butterfly' DOES tie in with the water-concept because I am talking about butterfly swimming stroke! (An easy mistake.)

Kylan - glad you liked the Kooser imitation. Yeah, 'bluely' is a word - spell-checker told me so. I felt that I did a better job of concs than intros, but they're short, so it makes little difference, I guess.

Ahhhh, butterfly stroke. Pretty sneakyyy. I'll make a public retraction of my previous statement at 11:00pm.

Bon Appetit:
...I'm not sure if I want to eat meat anymore =\
On one hand, it's so visceral that it makes me hungry. And on the other hand...it's so visceral. It feels like a giant descending on a writhing table from Grimm's fairy tales. And I dig the idea of chewing sunlight.

Technical note: zygotes are already fertilized as part of the definition. It's like having an "ATM machine."