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Young Writers Society



In Fond Regret

by Sabine


Memorize a box of pictures
Polaroids, ill exposed
Dated haircuts and specks of sunlight
Captured in tender observation.
Remember there, in the line of a cheek,
The bend of a wrist
And the tenderness returns
And in fondness, half-forgetting
What a tangle that you made
In contradiction
Between intention, and what became.

You talk a while
Of teacups on the counter
And dinner, a performance made
Before the ease began to fade
And holding hands as you ran
Breathless, not quite in step
And picked your way on the stones
With the sea seething by your feet.

You bent to catch her wayward hat
And when you turned, only found
The howl of wind, an empty sound
Empty ground, hollow scenery
Like a stair that you missed
Or a light extinguished,
You’d lost your sense of direction.

Something key has been mislaid
The ticking of the clock has rearranged
As the settled dust is now disturbed
Dim confusion and pockets filled
With scraps and string –
But remember when, on a hill
Green and languorous in the shade
On a picnic, in conversation,
Mid-thought and reclining
Time suspended in the sun
Whimsical and mild
Dragged its feet beside the wood
Where the boy and his bear
Still play in games half-forgotten.
Packed the day in the hamper
Wrapped in checked cotton and yellowing,
Tucked away behind broken sleds
And galoshes

Turn your face towards the brisk salt air,
Kinder then, to let the memory
fade, disused, and decay--
But you stand your ground, in the sand
With faint hope indissoluble
And strain with muffled ears to hear
The footsteps that once had echoed yours
As the mist rolls in with the day.





**

Now Edited, for coherancy and to remove an olbique reference to something that shouldn't have been included.

*

Because I am, to some not inconsiderable degree, a lunatic, this is inspired mostly by spending way too much time looking at the snap-shot-esque pictures on the Cam (Shada) on Brighton Beach (Leisure Hive) and most of all in Paris (City of Death) on tragical history tour and otp_probably. While listening to lille (Lisa Hannigan) on repeat. Salted heavily with fanon interpretation of course.

strange how a fictional past you never had can render you just as helpless with chest-crushing nostaliga as recalling real events in you life. for me anyway. but of course my real life is rather dull and easily overshadowed.

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36 Reviews

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Sun Jun 07, 2009 9:19 am
Sabine says...



Helpful McHelpfulpants wrote:
Sabine wrote:Memorize a box of pictures
Polaroids, ill exposed
Dated haircuts and specks of sunlight
Captured in tender observation.


I read the first three lines, pleased but not too impressed, and then -- hoo boy. It's not that the last line is gorgeous in a showy way, or utterly original, but it is really just perfect there, and... yeah. Anyway. Much love.

Although you could not see, at the time
What a tangle
In contradiction
Between intention, and what became.


This is lovely, but while I understood it it's a little too... tenuous, the way the sentence hangs together. I suggest you change it to something clearer, if perhaps less poetic: "what a tangle in contradiction between intention and what came of it." Unless I'm misinterpreting, in which case... well, still something to consider, right?


Now this section read a little different, not a lot different but hopefully it is easier to follow.

Helpful McHelpfulpants wrote:
And dinner, a performance made
For your fine collection of acquaintances


Wasn't fond of this line. It seemed too long, and not pretty enough to warrant all those syllables. Breaking it up and adding just a little imagery for taste would be nice.


yes, that line has been bothering me ever since I wrote it. It's awkward, and too formal for this poem, and what's more it was a reference that was stepping out of character and into... something else. I finally came up with some thing else with which to replace it. Hopefully the new line only seems too mundane to me and not everyone else.

Helpful McHelpfulpants wrote:
You bent to catch her wayward hat
And when you turned, only found
The howl of wind, an empty sound


I want more after 'an empty sound'; I want something along the lines of an empty sound in your ears, or some such, because it dangles, here, and it deserves a finish.


Empty ground, hollow scenery


...or you could change 'empty ground' to 'an empty ground', that would tie it up as well and make me as happy a selfish reader. :'D Plus, articles help make it feel less like a list and more like a real structure.


this part is a little stop and start, i admit, but that was basically my intention, to signify an abrupt change... perhaps I'm being too pretentious. In anycase, at the moment I don't feel like I want to clutter this stanza up with extra words. that may change when I look at this poem again in a little while. In a few month, say, of whenever the dratted song to which I wrote it finally gets out of my head (not that i was copying the song, or even the content of the song, but the rhythem of it definately influenced the cadence of the poem.)

Helpful McHelpfulpants wrote:
Like a stair that you missed
Or a light extinguished,
You’d lost your sense of direction.


om nom nom nom. Old phrases, but so well-used.

Something key has been mislaid


Quoi? 'Something key'? Do you mean something's key or do you mean some key?

The ticking of the clock has rearranged


It's rearranged... what?


'something key'

Well, everything, really. Doesn't it always? Time wounds all heels, and whatnot? XDD Also a referance to something very obscure, I suppose I was being indulgent and haveing a joke with myself. But time does pass, and has passed in the poem, and time changes things rather inevitably.

Helpful McHelpfulpants wrote:
As the settled dust is now disturbed
Dim confusion and pockets filled
With scraps and string –


I think, in general, I have trouble following some of these connected images you pile up. Needs moar conjunctions.


well... I think i disagree, not sure.

I suppose I was trying to evoke the feeling of something shifting, of having forgotton something and slowly coming around to remembering it, of finding yourself on a path but not completely understanding how you got there but still moving forward... To an extent still a referance to that obscure thing i mentioned earlier.

Helpful McHelpfulpants wrote:
But remember when, on a hill
Green and languorous in the shade
On a picnic, in conversation,
Mid-thought and reclining
Time suspended in the sun
Whimsical and mild
Dragged its feet beside the wood
Where the boy and his bear
Still play in games half-forgotten.
Packed the day in the hamper
Wrapped in checked cotton and yellowing,
Tucked away behind broken sleds
And galoshes


and... yeah, I'd like more punctuation, but I'm a little in love, here. And by 'a little' I mean 'a great deal'.


Thank you! And yes, probably more puntuation. I'm pretty useless at figuring out how to puntuate poetry, it may take me a while to get it pinned down.

Helpful McHelpfulpants wrote:
Turn your face towards the brisk salt air,
Kinder then, to let the memory
fade, disused, and decay--


I think Evi's confusion on this was just a matter of misinterpretation. It IS supposed to be then, not than, right? Because that makes more sense. And is v. nice.


Yes, it is supposed to be then, not than. but the section you quoted is the edited version, and a suppose I can see how she was confused by the original. the original version took a sort of hairpin turn.

Helpful McHelpfulpants wrote:*

In any case, this is a beautiful poem and I'm glad I read it. Tighten it up so that the connections between lines make sense, and add the punctuation you need to guide the reader -- short sentences are not always a taboo, you know -- but this is marvelous and I look forward to more from you.


thank you very much your your detailed and helpful review! :)




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Sun Jun 07, 2009 6:14 am
Helpful McHelpfulpants wrote a review...



Sabine wrote:Memorize a box of pictures
Polaroids, ill exposed
Dated haircuts and specks of sunlight
Captured in tender observation.


I read the first three lines, pleased but not too impressed, and then -- hoo boy. It's not that the last line is gorgeous in a showy way, or utterly original, but it is really just perfect there, and... yeah. Anyway. Much love.

Although you could not see, at the time
What a tangle
In contradiction
Between intention, and what became.


This is lovely, but while I understood it it's a little too... tenuous, the way the sentence hangs together. I suggest you change it to something clearer, if perhaps less poetic: "what a tangle in contradiction between intention and what came of it." Unless I'm misinterpreting, in which case... well, still something to consider, right?

And dinner, a performance made
For your fine collection of acquaintances


Wasn't fond of this line. It seemed too long, and not pretty enough to warrant all those syllables. Breaking it up and adding just a little imagery for taste would be nice.

You bent to catch her wayward hat
And when you turned, only found
The howl of wind, an empty sound


I want more after 'an empty sound'; I want something along the lines of an empty sound in your ears, or some such, because it dangles, here, and it deserves a finish.

Empty ground, hollow scenery


...or you could change 'empty ground' to 'an empty ground', that would tie it up as well and make me as happy a selfish reader. :'D Plus, articles help make it feel less like a list and more like a real structure.

Like a stair that you missed
Or a light extinguished,
You’d lost your sense of direction.


om nom nom nom. Old phrases, but so well-used.

Something key has been mislaid


Quoi? 'Something key'? Do you mean something's key or do you mean some key?

The ticking of the clock has rearranged


It's rearranged... what?

As the settled dust is now disturbed
Dim confusion and pockets filled
With scraps and string –


I think, in general, I have trouble following some of these connected images you pile up. Needs moar conjunctions.

But remember when, on a hill
Green and languorous in the shade
On a picnic, in conversation,
Mid-thought and reclining
Time suspended in the sun
Whimsical and mild
Dragged its feet beside the wood
Where the boy and his bear
Still play in games half-forgotten.
Packed the day in the hamper
Wrapped in checked cotton and yellowing,
Tucked away behind broken sleds
And galoshes


and... yeah, I'd like more punctuation, but I'm a little in love, here. And by 'a little' I mean 'a great deal'.

Turn your face towards the brisk salt air,
Kinder then, to let the memory
fade, disused, and decay--


I think Evi's confusion on this was just a matter of misinterpretation. It IS supposed to be then, not than, right? Because that makes more sense. And is v. nice.

*

In any case, this is a beautiful poem and I'm glad I read it. Tighten it up so that the connections between lines make sense, and add the punctuation you need to guide the reader -- short sentences are not always a taboo, you know -- but this is marvelous and I look forward to more from you.




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Sun Jun 07, 2009 5:56 am
Sabine says...



Evi wrote:Hey Sabine! ^^ Don't think I've seen you around before. I'm Evi, nice to meet you, and I wanted you to know that I really enjoyed your poem. I'll just throw out some suggestions.

You talk a space
Of teacups on the counter


I'm assuming this is a typo, and not the verb you intended to put here? Because you can't talk a space of teacups. You can talk about a space filled with teacups, or you can talk so loudly that you shatter the teacups and all that's left is empty space, but I'm not understanding what you have currently.


actually I've had a few people tell me this turn of phrase doesn't make sense - must be something only Ive heard. Sort of like 'sit a spell' but not. but i guess this is not the place for colloquialism anyway. changed.

Evi wrote:
And holding hands as you ran
Breathless, not quite in step
And picked your way on the stones


See where I switch colors from red to blue? That's where you change tenses from present to past. Up until that third line there, everything is narrated as if it's happening right now, through present second-person tense, but the verb 'picked' is past-tense. And then, from this point on, you alternate between the two tenses. I think the effect is best in present, so I recommend sticking with that throughout the entire poem. :wink:


well, I suppose I could just say 'time lords' and handwave it XDD but that isn't really fair. I do think however, that the tense changes are necessary, because there are the 'present' parts and then there are the 'past tense' parts which are recollections of things that had happened a long time ago.

Like that stanza you mention here starts out basically 'you talk a while of' and the rest of the stanza is the 'of,' and it shifts to remembrances for a while. When it comes back to 'present tense,' that's supposed to indicate present again and etc.

I will look it over again though and see if it need to clean up tenses... or maybe clarify. But this poem is already dangerously literal and I'm worried that clarifying more will make it just prose with funny line breaks.

Evi wrote:
Green and languorous in the shade
On a picnic, in conversation,
Mid-thought and reclining
Time suspended in the sun
Whimsical and mild
Dragged its feet beside the wood
Where the boy and his bear
Still play in games half-forgotten.
Packed the day in the hamper


Somewhere in the middle of this, I got bored and skipped ahead.

Which, as I'm sure you know, is bad.

I think it's because your descriptions, although I like them, start getting choppy and rather unoriginal here. I'd love this scene to be actually explained more-- from this I get that there's a picnic, a boy, and a bear. But I don't really understand that. The line I bolded (do you see it above?) was my favorite line out of this chunk, simply because of the imagery you put there. I'd love more of that, and I think you really would benefit from some really descriptive and interesting images.


Oh, dear, does no one actually read the Winnie the Pooh books anymore? The real ones by AA Milne? At the end of the last story in House at Pooh Corner, a story where Christopher Robin to start school, and about to start on the business of growing up in the real world, very poignant, anyway the last paragraph reads: “So they went off together. But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.” (You can read all the stories from both books online here: http://members.fortunecity.com/spenceraloysius/Pooh/robin.html Please do read them, they’re truly wonderful.)

So that’s the boy and the bear, a metaphor for an eternal idyllic place in memory that gives us comfort even as we know we can never return there. And since I enjoy picturing Four and Romana in a perpetual season 17, larking about the universe, I thought that the Winnie the Pooh metaphor fit right in. XDD


Could you tell me exactly where you lost interest in that stanza? It would be very helpful. :)

Evi wrote:
Turn your face towards the brisk salt air,
Kinder then, in memory,
To let it fade and decay


This confuses me. Are you letting the face decay, or the memory decay? Either way, this middle line is also troublesome-- I think you might mean 'Kinder than', which would imply there being a comparison, but again, I don't see it. Are you saying:

"Turn your face to the air, because turning your face to the wind is kinder than letting your face decay (I know this from experience/memory.)"

Is that the message you're trying to get across? If so, it's muddled and unclear. If not, then it's /really/ muddled and unclear. :wink:

Overall, I'm short on time, but good luck with this! I liked the concept. So many poems focus on memories, but you kind of went beyond just memories to the actual remembering and the actual nostalgia, instead of just the memory itself.

...it that makes any sense at all. >_>

PM me for anything!

~Evi


Hmmm, that is a very literal interpretation. Not really what intended at all. I always mix together external and internal statements and descriptions, it’s what I’ve been trained to do. But they’re not really meant to inform one another.

But since this last stanza was a kind of stumbling block for most people I showed it to, and because I shorted it a bit compared to other stanzas, I edited it. Hopefully the meaning is clearer.

Thank you for your detailed critique! 

thedelphinater wrote:Ooh I really liked this, too! I can't do very much of a critique, because there wasn't very much I found wrong, and Evi already said most of the things I noticed. I do agree with her on the flow, and that it does seem to get a bit choppy and odd in a few places. Also like she said, I liked your descriptions, but for whatever reason, I found myself skipping ahead. But other than those few little things, this was really good. Gold star!


Thanks! I would be curious to know what parts made you skip ahead, it would be very helpful to me. :)

All in all, this piece is not great, more like trying out poetry again after a long break. I’m very glad to get feedback on it, especially for future reference when writing other things. (I’m not sure how many more edits I’ll put in on ‘In Fond Regret’ considering it’s fannish origins and inspirations.)




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Tue Jun 02, 2009 11:29 pm
thedelphinater wrote a review...



Ooh I really liked this, too! I can't do very much of a critique, because there wasn't very much I found wrong, and Evi already said most of the things I noticed. I do agree with her on the flow, and that it does seem to get a bit choppy and odd in a few places. Also like she said, I liked your descriptions, but for whatever reason, I found myself skipping ahead. But other than those few little things, this was really good. Gold star!




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Tue Jun 02, 2009 10:59 pm
Evi wrote a review...



Hey Sabine! ^^ Don't think I've seen you around before. I'm Evi, nice to meet you, and I wanted you to know that I really enjoyed your poem. I'll just throw out some suggestions.

You talk a space
Of teacups on the counter


I'm assuming this is a typo, and not the verb you intended to put here? Because you can't talk a space of teacups. You can talk about a space filled with teacups, or you can talk so loudly that you shatter the teacups and all that's left is empty space, but I'm not understanding what you have currently.

And holding hands as you ran
Breathless, not quite in step
And picked your way on the stones


See where I switch colors from red to blue? That's where you change tenses from present to past. Up until that third line there, everything is narrated as if it's happening right now, through present second-person tense, but the verb 'picked' is past-tense. And then, from this point on, you alternate between the two tenses. I think the effect is best in present, so I recommend sticking with that throughout the entire poem. :wink:

Green and languorous in the shade
On a picnic, in conversation,
Mid-thought and reclining
Time suspended in the sun
Whimsical and mild
Dragged its feet beside the wood
Where the boy and his bear
Still play in games half-forgotten.
Packed the day in the hamper


Somewhere in the middle of this, I got bored and skipped ahead.

Which, as I'm sure you know, is bad.

I think it's because your descriptions, although I like them, start getting choppy and rather unoriginal here. I'd love this scene to be actually explained more-- from this I get that there's a picnic, a boy, and a bear. But I don't really understand that. The line I bolded (do you see it above?) was my favorite line out of this chunk, simply because of the imagery you put there. I'd love more of that, and I think you really would beenefit from some really descriptive and interesting images.

Secondly, pertaining to my comment about choppiness, this is all kept at an irregular rhythm. I think poems' meters and tempos are best when they're either exactly aligned and rhythmic, for that even and constant effect, or when they're balanced out through both short and long lines. Here you're trapped somewhere in the middle: short lines with irregular syllable patterns, and it gets choppy and makes it harder for the reader to establish a good flow. I'd suggest giving more diversity with your syllable count.

Turn your face towards the brisk salt air,
Kinder then, in memory,
To let it fade and decay


This confuses me. Are you letting the face decay, or the memory decay? Either waym, this middle line is also troublesome-- I think you might mean 'Kinder than', which would imply there being a comparison, but again, I don't see it. Are you saying:

"Turn your face to the air, because turning your face to the wind is kinder than letting your face decay (I know this from experience/memory.)"

Is that the message you're trying to get across? If so, it's muddled and unclear. If not, then it's /really/ muddled and unclear. :wink:

Overall, I'm short on time, but good luck with this! I liked the concept. So many poems focus on memories, but you kind of went beyond just memories to the actual remembering and the actual nostalgia, instead of just the memory itself.

...it that makes any sense at all. >_>

PM me for anything!

~Evi





“Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?”
— L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables