the clapping moon faced you,
where only the pajamas roll
I have a bed, broad up the road,
foaming tall
a puzzle full of means
You're only August.
the sun hurt my head,
or was it the work
the jump of a hare:
The point at which a waste
is not a waste
I said—some people
are calmed by fear—
a sudden sacrament
from the pulmonary deep
6 comments:
very nice
really love the 1st full idea...
heres a thought, just b-b-bouncing it around, ...maybe the 2nd stanza can be short fragmentedy sentences (i read it wrong and it made me smile): "You're only august.
The sun made my head hurt.
Or was it in the work, the jump of a hare:"....end scene..
anyway
i like the idea at the end, its well executed.
- end communicae
kate like.
kate like "clapping moon" "puzzle full of means" "a sudden sacrament from the pulmonary deep"
I feel as though your writing works best (or maybe all writing does to some degree) when it's fully steeped in its emotional qualities, which I think you do successfully here and in other poems of yours. I think your least successful works are the ones that seem to be sort of peripheral hair-brained loren schemes that you don't feel attached to (or perhaps I've overanalyzed). Not to suggest there's any sort of melodrama here--or drama at all-- it's just an involvement with the work that, at some point, I am envious of.
I'd play with the line breaks in the second stanza because I'm into that. I like the first stanza a lot, but the second stanza is where I'm pulled in and I think is the center of the poem's energy.
Hey let's be friends. I need more sleep.
Thanks dudes! I really like your idea black dice. I will do it.
And Kate, I think you hit the nail on the head in terms of which of my things are successful/unsuccessful. ANd I do really think that attachment is, in the end, what separates the ones that work from those that don't. OK, we'll all be friends. Eating time for me now. COME TO OUR NEW APARTMENT AND HANG OUT IT'S THE SHIT!!!!
i really like the way you changed it. cut out the fat and eat the heart, that's what the inuits would do.
yo' shit just keeps gettin' better!
I'M TRYING TO GET TO YOUR NEW APARTMENT OKAY. OKAY?! I HEAR. IT'S THE SHIT. GOT IT.
Like Kate, I love "puzzle full of means," its an awesome simple line that hits way bigger than it reads. That, I suppose, is the ethos of what I take from this poem, one ordinary thing that happens and as a byproduct takes on an alternate, ironic, and perhaps more meaningful existence. Chocked with classic Poinisms. I might only suggest a specific image in the last stanza - though I love what it speaks to me, I want to see it illustrated as the first two stanzas currently are. Well done brother, sorry I couldn't hang out more when I was in DC. Like my new governor, though, I'll be back.
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