Not For The Thin-Skinned

[PatCarrington]

it seems to me that an item that is missing at this poetry board, one that seems to be present at others, is a thread where a poem can be placed for INTENSE examination. where the poem can be torn down and critiqued with no gloves on, word by word, phrase by phrase, thought by thought. where a poem can have the shit kicked out of it, and be better off for it. who can't use a good ass-kicking every now and then?

people try to do just that in stray threads. trent dutch has a poem up now. eve had her gorgeous "Bread" up last week. but on those threads, punches get pulled, because no one is sure how harsh critique and suggestion would be taken.

i think we need a thread where you know going in that you can free yourself of all restraint and just let loose. and any poet who puts a poem up knows exactly what he/she is in for.

why not give these poems a thread of their own, where the poet can get what they are looking for?

one poem at a time.

a thread where no flirting, licking, or fucking are allowed or tolerated. there are plenty of places for those things here.

a thread where you do not come for blind praise and ego-stroking. (they are also here in abundance if you need them).

right now, i take the poetry i want seriously analyzed and do it privately here, in pm's. but that method, by its nature, is restrictive, because it is a 2-party communication rather than a free-share of ideas, where one thought can geometrically lead to countless others.

i don't know if this will fly, but i'm going to give it a go.

i will put up a poem below that i would like intense comment on. i wrote it yesterday, i think it has potential, and i want it to be battered and cut, and come out prettier than it went in. i want to do whatever i can to bring that potential out.

what better way to do it than expose it for examination?

patrick

 

[PatCarrington]

I give background here, so everyone can get a full picture:

On the evening of February 13, 1945, what some consider to be an orgy of genocide and barbarism began against a defenseless German city, one of the greatest cultural centers of northern Europe. Within less than 14 hours not only was it reduced to flaming ruins, but an estimated one-third of its inhabitants, possibly as many as a half a million, had perished in what was the worst single event massacre of all time.

This incident forms the basis for Kurt Vonnegut's novel "Slaughterhouse 5." The allies of WW II have always defended this incident as militarily justified. Some see it in another light. There are obviously arguments to be made from both perspectives.

At any rate, the purpose of this thread is the POEM below, not political debate.

***************************************************

You guys burnt the place down, turned it into a single column of flame. More people died there in the firestorm, in that one big flame, than died in Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined." --Kurt Vonnegut, Jr

***************************************************

His Dresden Boots


In bent display below air force relics,
a certain red weight buckled the old skin
of grandfather’s flying boots. They’d long lost
the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure.

I remember his glazed eyes as he said they
were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again,

and that they talked.

There was flushed acceptance on his wrinkled face,
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
the silence and stillness, stay with you
just like souvenirs.

 

[WickedEve]

I do enjoy boards that are for critique and revision only. We have tried those here. They never seem to work, unfortunately.



Edited to remove my suggestions for the poem.

 

[twelveoone]

Pat, I like your idea, I guess you have done it: I take issue with the backgound statement.
"On the evening of February 13, 1945, an orgy of genocide and barbarism began against a defenseless German city,"
"an orgy of genocide"? - neither term is appropriate here; one may argue the barbarism of the Harris Doctrine, the "dehousing" of the German population.
What is overlooked is Dresden was an important rail center, and at that time the Allies were concerned about the Germans pulling troops out of the East to the so-called Alpine Redoubt.
I would reword the background, you do not want people focusing on that, instead of poem, as I just did.

 

[PatCarrington]

Pat, I like your idea, I guess you have done it: I take issue with the backgound statement.
"On the evening of February 13, 1945, an orgy of genocide and barbarism began against a defenseless German city,"
"an orgy of genocide"? - neither term is appropriate here; one may argue the barbarism of the Harris Doctrine, the "dehousing" of the German population.
What is overlooked is Dresden was an important rail center, and at that time the Allies were concerned about the Germans pulling troops out of the East to the so-called Alpine Redoubt.
I would reword the background, you do not want people focusing on that, instead of poem, as I just did.

upon looking, i agree, 1201.

the words of the background statement are not mine. and they are obviously biased. i merely pulled them from a website....an error on my part.

i will make them less subjective, right now.

thanks.

 

[twelveoone]

Great and or near great:

a certain red weight buckled the old skin
of grandfather’s flying boots. ...

I remember his glazed eyes as he said they
were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again,

and that they talked.

There was flushed acceptance on his wrinkled face,
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.

either do something more with "glazed" or find a better word

not sure about this:
"the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure. "
either do something more with "rosy dawn", I really am having a problem with "creamy pleasure" - can you explain what you are doing here?

These are close to cliche:
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
silence and stillness

I'm not sure of the effect you want to acheive here, can you explain?
just like souvenirs.

Pat, I always described your work as "singing", this also may be a bit of a problem here, this may benefit from some dissonance.
Perhaps a quick trip to Wilfred Owen's "Strange Meeting"

just some things to think about

 

[PatCarrington]

Great and or near great:

a certain red weight buckled the old skin
of grandfather’s flying boots. ...

I remember his glazed eyes as he said they
were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again,

and that they talked.

There was flushed acceptance on his wrinkled face,
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.

either do something more with "glazed" or find a better word

not sure about this:
"the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure. "
either do something more with "rosy dawn", I really am having a problem with "creamy pleasure" - can you explain what you are doing here?

These are close to cliche:
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
silence and stillness

I'm not sure of the effect you want to acheive here, can you explain?
just like souvenirs.

Pat, I always described your work as "singing", this also may be a bit of a problem here, this may benefit from some dissonance.
Perhaps a quick trip to Wilfred Owen's "Strange Meeting"

just some things to think about

1201

all great observations to be discussed.

i'm traveling now. i'll get back to them this evening.

this is just what i had hoped for in a thread like this -- pointed thoughts freed
from all worry of feelings -- just ideas laid out in the open between minds.

 

[twelveoone]

Pardon the pun:
carries his steps like stones to the grave.

thsi line should be more in step with these:

of grandfather’s flying boots. ...
were both on the floor and on his feet forever,

BTW this is quite nice:
were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again,

Whoa, I missed it first time around, Damn you pat, this sneaks up on you, WOW!

 

[Angeline]

I do enjoy boards that are for critique and revision only. We have tried those here. They never seem to work, unfortunately.



Edited to remove my suggestions for the poem.

Oh. I was supposed to tell you to get your gorgeous ass and brain in this thread to critique Pat's poem, but I see you're here.

Ok, Patrick my friend. Like Eve said, this idea has gone over here in the past like--as they used to say in the old neighborhood--a boatful of pregnant nuns. I've been very busy this morning, watching Cat Ballou and now I have to take a long hot bath and think about what I don't feel like doing today. But I'll come rip your poem to shreds later if you want. You know I can. Masochist.

 

[jthserra]

His Dresden Boots


In bent display below air force relics,
a certain red weight buckled the old skin
of grandfather’s flying boots. They’d long lost
the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure.

I remember his glazed eyes as he said they
were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again,

and that they talked.

There was flushed acceptance on his wrinkled face,
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
the silence and stillness, stay with you
just like souvenirs.

Before I start, please understand I read INTENSE... so I dug in much deeper than I normally might and with the understanding that I consider this poet one of the best I have read. As I mentioned before, we are all lesser poets, this particular poet is simply less less than I and many others... if you get my drift. Anyway, in the spirit of INTENSE scrutiny and dialogue I submit:


In reading the poem, I liked a lot of the phrasing and felt the conflicted emotions evoked by the boots and their place among the other relics. What I missed, beyond the title of the poem, was the connection to Dresden. Given the historical background you provided, I looked inside the poem for some connection, either literal or metaphorical to the event, but all I read was about the boots that could have been worn during the bombing of Dresden, or during the fire bombing of Tokyo, or marching into the streets of Paris.

Again, given your historical context and your title, I assume you want the connection. I think to create the connection you need to infuse more of the images of the bombing or its aftermath into these boots. Even though the crew of the bombers were far removed from the destruction (at an altitude of some 15,000 feet), they still felt the heat rising from the city from inside their plane. So
when you say:

In bent display below air force relics,
a certain red weight buckled the old skin
of grandfather’s flying boots. They’d long lost
the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure.

I wonder if the boots may not be described something like:

"... They'd long lost
the tan, seared from a distant heat
stained in the soot they never touched."


Why did the boots talk? What did they talk of? Not of comradery, or marches... I think the boots talked of the guilt and horror. Show that guilt and horror, give the reader the reason for the grandfather's flushed acceptance, why this acceptance came to a wrinkled face and not to a younger one.


Make use of every chance to echo the horror, recreate the flame:


like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.


Not "wood stained of pierced palms." Not the blood of Christ, but make it "wood charred of allied flames." Or something like that to show what was being judged.

And in the final stanza...

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
the silence and stillness, stay with you
just like souvenirs.


Again, support the connection to Dresden, don't have him carry stones to his grave... ashes maybe? And perhaps, in the last line (an intensly strong line) but again another change to solidify the connection:

consider something like:

".... How aftermath
the silence and the embers, stay with you
just like smoke stained souvenirs."


The wording of my suggestions may kink the rhythm and the modifications to the images may distort what you actually saw in the relics, but I think this poetic liscense can give the poem a deeper context and hopefully a more searing impact.


Beyond the poem, the historical information on Dresden varies widely so you may want to cite your source if you plan to attach the background information to the poem. Death tolls range from the "official" toll of 35,000, which, given that the city was packed with refugees fleeing the Russian advance, is most certainly low and 1.2 million, which is based upon extensive conjecture and is most certainly high. Dresden was defended at one time, but the anti-aircraft guns had been moved to the countryside to defend against the oncoming Russian assault, so when the bombers arrived, they were unimpeded.

There were actually three raids over a two day period, with the final raid ending ironically on Ash Wednesday. Of course, perhaps the most controversial thing about this raid was why was the American people not informed of this event until 20 years after the war ended? Why was it kept a secret for so long?

But I digress into the politics. I do think that if you infuse your poem further with the event, you can regenerate the intense emotion within your words.


jim : )

 

[BooMerengue]

Pat?

What Jim said... He said it so much better than me. I just want to add. Theres a certain macabre romanticism that comes out of stories and poems from WW2. Other wars, too, but not like WW2. I think thats absent in your words. Knowing more about the grandfather (or his boots) and/or knowing more about the event itself will add that 'personal touch'

Just my opinion. And thats about as intense as I get. LOL

 

[Angeline]

Before I start, please understand I read INTENSE... so I dug in much deeper than I normally might and with the understanding that I consider this poet one of the best I have read. As I mentioned before, we are all lesser poets, this particular poet is simply less less than I and many others... if you get my drift. Anyway, in the spirit of INTENSE scrutiny and dialogue I submit:


In reading the poem, I liked a lot of the phrasing and felt the conflicted emotions evoked by the boots and their place among the other relics. What I missed, beyond the title of the poem, was the connection to Dresden. Given the historical background you provided, I looked inside the poem for some connection, either literal or metaphorical to the event, but all I read was about the boots that could have been worn during the bombing of Dresden, or during the fire bombing of Tokyo, or marching into the streets of Paris.

Again, given your historical context and your title, I assume you want the connection. I think to create the connection you need to infuse more of the images of the bombing or its aftermath into these boots. Even though the crew of the bombers were far removed from the destruction (at an altitude of some 15,000 feet), they still felt the heat rising from the city from inside their plane. So
when you say:

In bent display below air force relics,
a certain red weight buckled the old skin
of grandfather’s flying boots. They’d long lost
the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure.

I wonder if the boots may not be described something like:

"... They'd long lost
the tan, seared from a distant heat
stained in the soot they never touched."


Why did the boots talk? What did they talk of? Not of comradery, or marches... I think the boots talked of the guilt and horror. Show that guilt and horror, give the reader the reason for the grandfather's flushed acceptance, why this acceptance came to a wrinkled face and not to a younger one.


Make use of every chance to echo the horror, recreate the flame:


like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.


Not "wood stained of pierced palms." Not the blood of Christ, but make it "wood charred of allied flames." Or something like that to show what was being judged.

And in the final stanza...

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
the silence and stillness, stay with you
just like souvenirs.


Again, support the connection to Dresden, don't have him carry stones to his grave... ashes maybe? And perhaps, in the last line (an intensly strong line) but again another change to solidify the connection:

consider something like:

".... How aftermath
the silence and the embers, stay with you
just like smoke stained souvenirs."


The wording of my suggestions may kink the rhythm and the modifications to the images may distort what you actually saw in the relics, but I think this poetic liscense can give the poem a deeper context and hopefully a more searing impact.


Beyond the poem, the historical information on Dresden varies widely so you may want to cite your source if you plan to attach the background information to the poem. Death tolls range from the "official" toll of 35,000, which, given that the city was packed with refugees fleeing the Russian advance, is most certainly low and 1.2 million, which is based upon extensive conjecture and is most certainly high. Dresden was defended at one time, but the anti-aircraft guns had been moved to the countryside to defend against the oncoming Russian assault, so when the bombers arrived, they were unimpeded.

There were actually three raids over a two day period, with the final raid ending ironically on Ash Wednesday. Of course, perhaps the most controversial thing about this raid was why was the American people not informed of this event until 20 years after the war ended? Why was it kept a secret for so long?

But I digress into the politics. I do think that if you infuse your poem further with the event, you can regenerate the intense emotion within your words.


jim : )

Were you wearing black leather when you did this review?

(Sorry Pat. I had to ask.)

 

[twelveoone]

"His Dresden Boots" is an awesome title.
At this juncture - I would like to point out, what you have, without the title describes a more universal theme, I mention this, because upon reflection, I do not think many bomber crews would even go through this reflection, Jim, do you know of any research on this?
Forgetting the Dresden connection, which as Jim points out, you did (and I guess, so did I), many of his suggestions will still stand for something more universal. His suggestion for the end line fills the need for something more than "just like souvenirs."

His suggestion here avoids the cliche and takes away from the singing effect; I would even think about replacing "silence"
".... How aftermath
the silence and the embers, stay with you
just like smoke stained souvenirs."

I like Jim's point; but this is so god-damned powerful, I would give serious consideration about keeping, it still works even with Dresden.
"like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged."

Is this what you are looking for? A give and take on the suggestions?
If not, I aplogise for the minor disagreement with Jim on those two lines.

There was something you wrote, I don't remember the title "Silver?" you caught flak for it. That an effect that snuck up and overwhelmed you, I mention that because, I think you are aiming for something similar.

 

[PatCarrington]

I do enjoy boards that are for critique and revision only. We have tried those here. They never seem to work, unfortunately.



Edited to remove my suggestions for the poem.

hey you.

come back here......pretty please.

i want to know what you have to say.

 

[Tathagata]

hey you.

come back here......pretty please.

i want to know what you have to say.

You've learned nothing in all these years being married??
Tis plainly a case of dehydration

 

[PatCarrington]

Great and or near great:

a certain red weight buckled the old skin
of grandfather’s flying boots. ...

I remember his glazed eyes as he said they
were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again,

and that they talked.

There was flushed acceptance on his wrinkled face,
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.

either do something more with "glazed" or find a better word

not sure about this:
"the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure. "
either do something more with "rosy dawn", I really am having a problem with "creamy pleasure" - can you explain what you are doing here?

These are close to cliche:
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
silence and stillness

I'm not sure of the effect you want to acheive here, can you explain?
just like souvenirs.

Pat, I always described your work as "singing", this also may be a bit of a problem here, this may benefit from some dissonance.
Perhaps a quick trip to Wilfred Owen's "Strange Meeting"

just some things to think about

either do something more with "glazed" or find a better word

i tend to agree, 1201. i am not sure i am totally happy with the word glazed.


not sure about this:
"the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure. "
either do something more with "rosy dawn", I really am having a problem with "creamy pleasure" - can you explain what you are doing here?

the only word, at this point, that i am unhappy with, is pleasure. i think there are far better choices....peace, for one.

They’d long lost
the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy peace.



tan was meant to refer to the original color of the boots when new ('new' meaning before they were worn on the combat mission to Dresden) --

rosy dawn is trying to refer to both the present color of the faded boots, slightly reddened with old age, and also trying to refer to the glow that the firebombing colored the sky with -- as if the boots had absorbed and adopted, through age and memory and participation perhaps, that color. --

creamy is trying to refer to the lost texture and color of the boots, plus to the blurred cream-colored view a pilot might have seen on the ground before the bombing forced the world to take on a new color.

These are close to cliche:
carries his steps like stones to the grave.

silence and stillness

out of context, i agree they look cliche.

in the context of the poem, however, i do not agree.

the word steps is the key for me in the first line, referring back to both the boots and to the choice he may, the decision to open the bomb bay.

"silence and stillness" refer to the aftermath, some of what he "hears" when the boots "talk" - two of the things he brought home with him

I'm not sure of the effect you want to acheive here, can you explain?
just like souvenirs.

my intention was: 1) to refer back to the "relics" in line one, the war memorabilia and booty (whatever it may be) he brought back by choice, and 2) to make the statement the human beings do not choose "everything" they bring back with them. that some things come back with you from large experience, whether you want them to or nor, things that will not go away, that stay with you and your "chosen" souvenirs.


as to the assonance/dissonance question -- i understand where you are coming from. my intention was not to write a war poem ( i do not like writing poetry with those sort of "statements" in them. they always sound and feel juvenile to me ) or to describe the bombing ( in which case more 'dissonance' would seem potentially appropriate ), but to give the entire poem the soft sadness of memory ( both my grandfather's, and mine of him ).

it is a poem not of a large and disturbing event, but more of one man and one boy's memory of him, and his shoes.


how did i do with the points you raise, 1201?

 

[eagleyez]

Waiting for dark
to take the color away,
the swollen beige tips on the Alders,
Birches gray in amongst the greenest Firs,
bicycles leaned on fences made of winter remembrance.

A populus whirled-
A chronology
that makes no mention
of the notions of emotion.

Waiting for dark,
Trying to learn from the honesty of the sun's deliberation.

 

[Angeline]

Like this? A review like this?

His Dresden Boots

In bent display below air force relics,
bent? or maybe "wrinkled" something to convey age?
a certain red weight buckled the old skin
of grandfather’s flying boots. They’d long lost
the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure.

I don't get this stanza Patrick. Why have the boots turned red? I associate red with bloodstains given the subject, but I don't think you mean that--did they fade to that color...but faded doesn't work with "hot world" to me; "faded" seems more consistent with "lukewarm," but maybe that's me. It's making it hard for me to visualize it.

I remember his glazed eyes as he said they
were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again,
"neither" instead of "never"? maybe it's a wordplay you're doing, or trying a more elegaic tone?

and that they talked.
I don't like "talked" unless you just mean like "squeaked" or something, but you don't--I'm sure you mean they had a story, but "talked" is not a rich enough term to convey that to me

There was flushed acceptance on his wrinkled face,
do people flush with acceptance? I think there's a better image to use here; maybe something that conveys stoicism or quiet sadness or something
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
Oh! They were red-stained from the oil he used? But see I didn't get that at the beginning of the poem, if that's it...
like wood stained of pierced palms.
why "of"? It seems an odd preposition to use rather than "with," but I like the crucifiction reference
Like being judged.

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
"know" doesn't quite get it here to me because his ears hear sounds that are memories, yes? maybe the problem is "hear" but I think you should say something to clarify that meaning
the silence and stillness, stay with you
just like souvenirs.

the ending is gorgeous. don't change a word.

 

[PatCarrington]

Before I start, please understand I read INTENSE... so I dug in much deeper than I normally might and with the understanding that I consider this poet one of the best I have read.

jim - this type of analysis, both its depth and the fact that it is full of questioning and suggestions, is exactly what i meant when i said INTENSE.

it is the reason i started this thread in the first place, and hope it becomes an on-going thing. i feel this poetry board needs to offer serious poets the same option of deep critique that other poetry forums do. participation on this thread is voluntary, but anyone here who wishes to open up their poetry to this type of analysis should have the option of doing so.


As I mentioned before, we are all lesser poets, this particular poet is simply less less than I and many others... if you get my drift. Anyway, in the spirit of INTENSE scrutiny and dialogue I submit:


In reading the poem, I liked a lot of the phrasing and felt the conflicted emotions evoked by the boots and their place among the other relics. What I missed, beyond the title of the poem, was the connection to Dresden. Given the historical background you provided, I looked inside the poem for some connection, either literal or metaphorical to the event, but all I read was about the boots that could have been worn during the bombing of Dresden, or during the fire bombing of Tokyo, or marching into the streets of Paris.

i gave the background information only as a reference point to the reader here ( it will NOT be supplied, of course, when the poem is ready for literary submission ). i did not mean to imply that the poem was going to have any connection to Dresden other than the title, and the grandfather's paticipation in the event. as i stated above, it is a poem about a man, a boy, and a pair of boots.....and about the lasting implications of important decision-making, especially the guilt that might be involved.



Again, given your historical context and your title, I assume you want the connection. I think to create the connection you need to infuse more of the images of the bombing or its aftermath into these boots. Even though the crew of the bombers were far removed from the destruction (at an altitude of some 15,000 feet), they still felt the heat rising from the city from inside their plane. So
when you say:

In bent display below air force relics,
a certain red weight buckled the old skin
of grandfather’s flying boots. They’d long lost
the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure.

I wonder if the boots may not be described something like:

"... They'd long lost
the tan, seared from a distant heat
stained in the soot they never touched."

i did not want to make it a poem about the bombing itself, so i chose to make all reference or even implication to it as subtle and understated as possible. i wanted the readers' focus on the grandfather and his boots.

i wanted the boots to take on the hue of the sky where he was, ( the heat they felt could have been used also to change the boots in a more direct way - it just didn't enter my mind, and is an excellent suggestion, i think ) not by the fire or soot on the ground, where he and the boots were not.




Why did the boots talk? What did they talk of?

they talked of this (taken from the statement that they talk, and the answer to that statement [from the last stanza of the poem]):



I remember his glazed eyes as he said .....
............................that they talked.


I know what he meant now, ............
.................................................
How ears hear from far away sounds
they know are there.

Not of comradery, or marches... I think the boots talked of the guilt and horror. Show that guilt and horror,

there WERE meant to talk of horror ( one of the implications of participating in horror, anyway ), and especially of guilt.

i think both of those things ARE in the poem, in the understated way i intended, rather than a bit more direct way, as you suggest they might have been presented. i think that is more a matter of intent and the style i chose to present them. in a poem that describes a memory of mine, i attempted to give it exactly that feel, a long ago, hazy sort of recollection - rather than a direct and more tangible one

give the reader the reason for the grandfather's flushed acceptance, why this acceptance came to a wrinkled face and not to a younger one.

this i strongly disagree with. i think it is usually best to leave "reason" to the reader's mind. and the way i tried to accomplish that is by "not saying" rather than "saying". i find sometimes a key element in poetry is what the poet chooses to 'leave out', rather than what he/she chooses to 'put in.'

i think it's also a very bad mistake to explain a presented image, or get into the business of 'defending' the words of a poem inside the poem iself. it can lead to redundancy and to great verbal excess. i think it best to present the image in the best way you can, and let it be there for the reader to make implications from.


Make use of every chance to echo the horror, recreate the flame:


like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.


Not "wood stained of pierced palms." Not the blood of Christ, but make it "wood charred of allied flames." Or something like that to show what was being judged.

here, again i disagree. i think the christ reference is perfect. it is not christ that the redness of his face is being compared to, but the wood of the cross.....the blood on the wood the way the flush is on his face....the wood is a thing that was "used" by the real culprits in the way a pilot is used by the real decision makers......as almost an inanimate object that is needed to accomplish the mission.

And in the final stanza...

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
the silence and stillness, stay with you
just like souvenirs.


Again, support the connection to Dresden, don't have him carry stones to his grave... ashes maybe? And perhaps, in the last line (an intensly strong line) but again another change to solidify the connection:

this is an interesting suggestion, and something to consider. i used stones to give the image of 'carrying' something with 'weight' to it. ashes does not accomplish that. the word steps means 'decisions' , of course, in the image of the feet and shoes.

consider something like:

".... How aftermath
the silence and the embers, stay with you
just like smoke stained souvenirs."

smoke-stained i do not like, as it would defeat the purpose of using the word 'souvenirs'. souviners are souviners here. the difference being that he chose some of them, and some of them were chosen for him whether he likes it or not. using 'smoke-stained' adds a separation between them that i do not want. i want the "stillness and sadness" to "stay with him just like his 'chosen' relics.....by their mere presence.


The wording of my suggestions may kink the rhythm and the modifications to the images may distort what you actually saw in the relics, but I think this poetic liscense can give the poem a deeper context and hopefully a more searing impact.


Beyond the poem, the historical information on Dresden varies widely so you may want to cite your source if you plan to attach the background information to the poem. Death tolls range from the "official" toll of 35,000, which, given that the city was packed with refugees fleeing the Russian advance, is most certainly low and 1.2 million, which is based upon extensive conjecture and is most certainly high. Dresden was defended at one time, but the anti-aircraft guns had been moved to the countryside to defend against the oncoming Russian assault, so when the bombers arrived, they were unimpeded.

There were actually three raids over a two day period, with the final raid ending ironically on Ash Wednesday. Of course, perhaps the most controversial thing about this raid was why was the American people not informed of this event until 20 years after the war ended? Why was it kept a secret for so long?

But I digress into the politics. I do think that if you infuse your poem further with the event, you can regenerate the intense emotion within your words.

to me, poetry and politics are strange bedfellows. that's just me though.

jim - thank you for this deep and considered analysis. it was very well thought out, and very well presented

patrick


jim : )

------------------

 

[impressive]

His Dresden Boots


In bent display below air force relics,
a certain red weight buckled the old skin
of grandfather’s flying boots. They’d long lost
the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure.

I remember his glazed eyes as he said they
were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again,

and that they talked.

There was flushed acceptance on his wrinkled face,
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
the silence and stillness, stay with you
just like souvenirs.

I totally suck at INTENSE analysis/critique, but you have been so graciously helpful to me that I'm just going to throw my feelings into the pot, FWIW. (I have to step WAY outside my NF personality to do it, though, and that's uncomfortable.)

I echo Angeline's comments about the word "talked." To me, it implies an exchange -- a dialogue. I recommend "spoke." It's more one-sided.

Should air force be capitalized -- or am I being anal?

"Creamy" doesn't work well for me, even after reading your explanation. I get the feeling of the proud, rigid newness of boot leather being sucked away by the profound gravity of the memories they carry -- and that just doesn't bring "creamy" imagery to mind.

With "penance" and "pierced palms," I would recommend a word other than "judged" to convey more of a sacramental feel in order to give that stanza an intensely powerful and "divine" punch.

I read this aloud twice before I got your flow:

How ears hear from far away sounds
they know are there.

... and I think it would read easier by breaking the line after "away" OR perhaps using "the distance" (or similar) instead of "far away."

Lastly, I would consider something other than "stay with you" in reference to aftermath/souvenirs. Perhaps "remain" or "survive" or "endure" -- or even "live with you."

That's just me, though.

(Going back to my observation corner, now.)

 

[jthserra]

i did not mean to imply that the poem was going to have any connection to Dresden other than the title, and the grandfather's paticipation in the event. as i stated above, it is a poem about a man, a boy, and a pair of boots.....

Patrick,

I wonder if you really would want to use Dresden in the title here if the poem is only about the man, a boy and the pair of boots. While your grandfather's presence at the bombing is noteworthy, Dresden is such a controversial and emotional subject I really wonder if anyone aware of what happened there will be able to read your poem as only about a man, a boy and a pair of boots. I'm afraid mentioning Dresden in the title will leave readers, like I did, expecting to see more of a connection there and while the poem as a poem about a man, a boy and a pair of boots stands well by itself, the expectation of the connection to Dresden will leave the reader dissatisfied. If the title excluded dresden... "Grandfather's Boots" or "His Flying Boots" the title would not fill the reader with an expectation of something different.

Just something to think about...


jim : )

 

[annaswirls]

I do enjoy boards that are for critique and revision only. We have tried those here. They never seem to work, unfortunately.



Edited to remove my suggestions for the poem.

Eve! You are too young to be saying things like this

 

[DeepAsleep]

*jumps up and down and screams for joy*

~D.A.

 

[PatCarrington]

His Dresden Boots

In bent display below air force relics,
bent? or maybe "wrinkled" something to convey age?
a certain red weight buckled the old skin
of grandfather’s flying boots. They’d long lost
the tan and absorbed a rosy dawn,
a hot world absent its creamy pleasure.

I don't get this stanza Patrick. Why have the boots turned red? I associate red with bloodstains given the subject, but I don't think you mean that--did they fade to that color...but faded doesn't work with "hot world" to me; "faded" seems more consistent with "lukewarm," but maybe that's me. It's making it hard for me to visualize it.

I remember his glazed eyes as he said they
were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again,
"neither" instead of "never"? maybe it's a wordplay you're doing, or trying a more elegaic tone?

and that they talked.
I don't like "talked" unless you just mean like "squeaked" or something, but you don't--I'm sure you mean they had a story, but "talked" is not a rich enough term to convey that to me

There was flushed acceptance on his wrinkled face,
do people flush with acceptance? I think there's a better image to use here; maybe something that conveys stoicism or quiet sadness or something
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
Oh! They were red-stained from the oil he used? But see I didn't get that at the beginning of the poem, if that's it...
like wood stained of pierced palms.
why "of"? It seems an odd preposition to use rather than "with," but I like the crucifiction reference
Like being judged.

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
"know" doesn't quite get it here to me because his ears hear sounds that are memories, yes? maybe the problem is "hear" but I think you should say something to clarify that meaning
the silence and stillness, stay with you
just like souvenirs.

the ending is gorgeous. don't change a word.

ange - i am trying to post the answer to this, but i keep getting the message "you used too many images in your previous post".

what the hell does that mean?

 

[annaswirls]

questions for a new thread

1. Are we supposed to keep going with the critiques, or wait for revisions?
There have been many thoughtful critiques done, I hope it okay Patrick that I maybe give a few suggestions or comments and then wait for revisions. If you are not intending to post the revision here at some point, I will give it a go round 1. Could we start another poem while the first one is in revision?

poem 1 original
critiques poem 1
poem 2 original
critiques poem 2
poem 1 revision
critiques 1 revision
etc etc etc or would that be too confusing?



2. Is this like interact where the poet answers back, or more like a critque where the poet answers questions that are stated as such, but does not answer the critique.

In the future, the poets critique the critique that takes the fun out of it, and people will stop. Also, it is in poor form for critics to argue their own points amongst each other on the boards. Unless this is intended to be a discussion and not a place for critiques.


To me if the poet agrees, they should make a change, if they don't, don't. Then after the revision maybe give a little talk.

3. Are we going to be serious about the off topic posts? (For example my first one-- I controlled myself and did not post another one to Ange )Will the moderators be removing them? Is it possible for us to have one serious thread? I think so. Now is now, it has been over a year since this was last tried. I have one foot out the door here. (which may be incentive for off topic posts )

4. I am hoping that more brief critiques will be encouraged as well, without long explanations. If people think they have to write a page long crit, they may not participate.

Patrick?