Young Writers Society

Good poem! I see some parallels to "Lyrids" in it, but it's still a good, solid topic -- one that I revert to often. I liked the use of combined, alliterative words in the second stanza (lovelorn and day-done). It has been the longest time since I've seen the word lovelorn in print. It's such a great word.

What I find interesting about this poem is how it is barely rooted in reality. It feels like a grounded hot air balloon, ballasted with the image of two people lying together in the grass. I definitely see some fantastical imagery here, but I think it only steps out of bounds every once or twice.

and the syrupy scent
of entangled flowers splashes the wind;

One of these words has to go. It feels far too heavy -- syrupy, if you will. In fact, I vote syrupy. This descriptor doesn't jive with the way I think of the scent of flowers. I'm not sure I care for "splashes" either, but that's just because I don't like using that word in describing things in general.

I wonder where the clouds have hidden
and I am sure I can almost hear the earth
counting to a hundred, seeking –

On rereading this verse, I love it. I wish you'd just made the hide and go seek metaphor a little more obvious, because it's so tasty.

like
seeds around the cream and crusted fields,

"Cream and crusted fields"? I don't like it. Mostly for the word "cream", but "crusted" is also awkward and vague. There's definitely a way here to keep the main idea of this simile but spice it up considerably -- I challenge you to find it.

Anyway, eight more days!

-Kylan

Counting down...seven days now...And I agree about that fantastical imagery, Kylan - I think I've been reading too much of your poetry, actually. It has somewhat hot-air-ballooned-up my style, I think.

Hm, I second Kylan on the root in fantastical ideas. It's quite nice, but at times maybe too heavy to swallow. You have to be careful, you suffer from the same thing I do, wordiness. Your on the line between wordiness and properly represented ideas, occasionally going over to one side.

Good luck for the next few days

Kamas

*lurks*

but your words are falling and I
am sitting in a grey room with
tight yellow desks, reciting
oxidation states as the clouds
melt on the ground outside –

practical over, I am watching
myself from beside the

Cut 'practical over' - the dash indicates an abrupt shift, but then you go to the effort of making a smooth transition...it doesn't quite work anyway. ^^

I know the sentiment of the poem very well, and it's also something I'm trying to get across in my own work, it's definitely a theme. Of having no control and just watching life slide by. I didn't quite get that sense from this, I don't know if it was overbearing word-choice or my own lethargic state right now, but I didn't quite get it as a whole - a few images here and there but nothing cohesive...I think.

Did that make any sense? *flails*

Kamas - thanks for the advice, and I'm definitely toning it down from here. I'm pretty sure the previous one was in my usual style, though.

Jiggity - um...'practical over' actually referred to a lab experiment just completed in class - but I reckon that was clunky too. I'll change it. And the sentiment of the poem is totally intellectualised - in fact, on second read, there is no sentiment - only the metaphor in my head. I don't think I got across any sense of 'wistfulness' in this, which I was aiming for; instead, I got across that repeated 'watching myself,' 'looking over my own shoulder,' 'glancing at the painter paint my life,' idea. So...I guess I need to put more 'heart' into this. Thanks for pointing that out .

Ahhh, now these two I love, pure and simple. ^_^

Also, you have no right to be excited about the end of this month! I'm sure you've written twice as much as is necessary already.

I like the first one better -- it was more fun to read. When the author is having fun, so is the reader...usually.

Note: written purely for fun, and a light bit of amusement. If there are any deep meanings in here, I do not know of them; except, perhaps, teenage fashion and 'activities' ahem.

This disclaimer bothers me a little, just because it seems as though you're apologizing for no reason. Why does a poem always have to have deep meanings? Why can't it ever be a description of some guy driving down the road, with some lovely natural personifications thrown in? I know I'm probably barking up the wrong tree here, and that you probably didn't intend that statement this way...but I disagree with the idea that all poetry must transcend itself to reveal some great and universal truth, at least consciously. If that was all poetry was, I think I'd cry. Because there is good poetry everywhere, in everything. In the smallest most insignificant things that may just speak for beauty or human sadness, or even simply for itself, for its place in the greater scheme of things.

Now if that's not what you meant by that Note, then just consider the above early morning rant as a good discussion starter.

As for the poem, as I said, I liked it. The first stanza was a little jarring, just because I didn't know what you were trying to do, but the other stanzas ended up justifying it. I'm not sure I care for the final stanza for some reason. Maybe because the rest of the personifications were very close and human and personal, and the moon as a cigarette smoker was too detached maybe? Or perhaps it's because the "man" has been kind of tossed into the poem. It's really not about the man, and so the quick mention of him at the end kind of ruins the flow.

Second poem was classic Navita, but I think I liked the first because it was different, and the second poem is more of the same, though, honestly, that's expected in NaPo.

-Kylan

Might take you up on that discussion at some point, Kylan - and no, that wasn't really what I meant by the disclaimer, but I agree - an interesting thing to think about. 'Classic Navita' - yowch, there I was, trying not to write in a set way every time . I obviously will go through every one of these poems when this is over and try to neaten it up using people's suggestions - bit of a rush, right now .

.

Hi Navita!

I really like "Stirring Omitted Lines" -- it had some really nice imagery and atmosphere to it. I like "this nougat taste slides/over my tongue as I lick/the fading edges of your words", haha, and actually very much of the whole poem. It had such good captures of moment that I always want to reach for in my writing, too. Therefore, it's possibly my favourite of these last few poems and in a way it also feels close to me. Peep was alright, but you've already proven you can do better.

I didn't feel the same with "ANZAC Dawn Parade" -- though you pulled it off quite skilfully, I just couldn't grasp it or connect to it the way I'd like to.

"Tango" is sweet. I like it, though it might be a little short.

"Accidental search and rescue" -- I like the theme, but for some reason the certain specificities ruined it a little for me. I mean things like "brown slippers", "last Saturday", "three years ago", and so on. I don't always dislike that kind of stuff in poetry, but it didn't somehow fit in this one. There's the feeling of mystery you want to have with poetry, and by being too accurate you don't allow us to have that feeling. Maybe I'm crazy. But that's how I felt. Overall, I liked it better than the ANZAC one.

Again, thanks for all your comments, they mean a lot to me. Good luck for the last days!


Demeter
x

Thanks Demeter! Yeah, on second read, maybe there is a tad too much detail-wise in the 'accidental search and rescue' one - but I hope the cuteness is still there.

And since I've just got a copy of Delights and Shadows by Kooser, I'm under his influence, hence the following poem:

.

Ciao! I'm finally here!

(And this is for "a most inconvenient bedfellow". Nice title). I'm sorry if I misinterpret something, as I often tend to end up befuddled by the abstract. But I shall try!

The first sentence ("around...form") doesn't seem to be connected very clearly to the rest of the poem, unless one includes the bit about the neck. For some reason I was thinking of neck braces when I read it, since there appeared to be that same element of control/restraint, but "sash" implies something more decorative, so I'm thinking that that isn't what you meant.

Now, you have a lovely line about "in the creaking corners of the dark"; it brought fine images to my mind, of old houses that simply bellow with personality.

My issues are pretty much nitpicks, and here's one of them: "I declared a certain feud with the pillow". I don't think that certain is the word you're looking for, since it is a synonym for "specific" and if you substitute the latter for the former, I think you'll see why it doesn't work very well.

The next part, with its turbulent, Faulkner–esque language, was hard for me to grasp. Was the pillow suffocating the narrator? Or simply in an uncomfortable position?

I liked how you incorporated a quirky humor into the poem (battle with the pillow, trying to study, victory!), which was refreshing. I only object to your use of "darn", which feels overly casual and really out of place in this piece. I think it detracts from the overall quality, actually.

In short: "Bedfellow" was a decent poem about a memory, but I definitely think you should tweak some things.
Suggestions:
Tie in the first sentence with the rest of it. Don't leave me hanging!
Clear up some of the language. You don't have to make it overly obvious or direct, but that whole blood vessel section was very opaque. (Or you could just post a reply and explain everything )
Find alternative words for the aforementioned phrases, or simply take them out.

Thanks for sharing this with us! I enjoyed reading it.

–antimelrose

Thanks Rose! (your new nickname, ha). I don't enjoy having to explain my poems, because it obviously means I haven't done a good enough job in getting the idea across. The first sentence relates because of the neck idea (which you guessed perfectly) - it's like the decorative sash is also holding up my neck to keep it upright, like curtain-ropes. I realised the blood-vessel bit was too mushed together to be comprehensible, actually. It's supposed to represent the fact that the - oh, DAMN IT - (thanks again) the nerves (yes, I WILL change it in the poem). You know how the nerves criss-cross in the neck, so the ones from the LHS of body go to the RHS of brain? Yeah, it's what the tipped over crucifixion cross means, in addition to the fact that having that stuffed up by a highly uncomfortable pillow is rather excruciating. Pardon the pun.

Okay, when I have a chance to go through and rewrite all these, I'll do sth about it.

.

An easy, simple poem. I love writing about storms -- there's so much lovely potential imagery. I particularly enjoyed lines like these:

and lightning on white stilts
clacked onto stuttering roofs –

(Though it's not necessarily new. I believe I've seen lightning described as stilts before, however lovely the image.)

ice splinters toppled
from the slippery tongue of eve

into finned ditches, and the mewl
of day lay down to sleep, paws
covering its eyes

Good stuff. I especially like "tongue of eve" because of its religious connotations.

Lines I didn't particularly like:

I tasted the mauve juice of
sky after a heart-ridden storm.

Meh. "Heart-ridden"? I tried to like it, but I don't see the connection.

and the wind wore my faded
straw hat like a rolling banner;

I don't like this simile at all -- it's dry. And in the wrong sense of the word. I'd cut it out because it sucks all the "mauve juice" out of the rest of the poem.

As for there being one more day, you enjoyed it...I know you did

-Kylan