For Rybka

[twelveoone]

Some years ago, Rybka was a reviewer of New Poems. One of the best, consistent, qualified. I read his reviews with interest. Not always agreeing, but then if I do agree 100% of the time, I lose what is that most valuable of assets, another view. Poetry is a game of choices, after the first word the second, what is thr second word doing with the first and so on. even the articles have weight, do I drop this "the' because it will no longer be an iamb, etc. Even in a what looks a rather pedestrian piece, there might be something in the choice of words, something you did not see, in a profusion of possibilies it is easy not to see what is front or you. Critics (and I'm sure some of you remember that effort here to make it a bad name) offer that valuble asset, another view.
Rybka was a critic.

Rybka was a writer. I am a writer. Frankly we had a love/hate relationship concerning each others work. This may be the best kind of relationship to have, one minute you are asking yourself "what the fuck is he doing?" and the next, you see, and steal, I'm sorry, are influenced by. I know I influenced him, I hope he at least suspected, he infleunced me. He caused me to take another look at e.e cummings, discovering something not only about e.e.(he's a genius) but also about Rybka (the same sense of playfullness and use of white space) but also about myself (that I'm an asshole for overlooking cummings so long because of my prejudice of all lower case words.)

Rybka did one thing in his work, that annoyed the hell out of me, what I consider excessive alliteration. But I'm always willing to reevaluate.



This was written not as a tribute, that may be beyond my talents. I took care in editting so it would not seem as either a parady or game of oneupsmanship, that is a game for the living, as they would have the chance to top it. It is something I started to write after I got the news of his passing. I had taken two rather long walks, and many subsequent retracings of the path I took, for the dead become lost to the living, unless you are alone. And this is a poem about being alone, the influence of a contemporary, and a coming to terms that I like he will never reach where we want to ne
Anything good about this poem, particularly the alliteration, I credit to his influence. Anything bad (and I'm sure Rybka, with some relish.would have pointed it out) is mine.
I owe him this.

Pax

The Blue Hour

For Rybka
worthy of my undying regard - Joseph Conrad

Between twin dead branches, the blue dusk of the sky
drew down deserted streets, silent at dinnertime;
leaves breezeless still on trees, gift of persistant high.

I walked in twilit thought. Passed the plaster Marys-
Our Ladies of mown lawns - O virgin blue, pure, sublime.
Their painted fleshtone faces face green eternities.


The blue hour mutes the hues, goes into indigo,
lined lead plum coloured clouds glean the serene autumnal gloam,
through black boughs streetlights shown, and in a ring arose
to song of dry leaves sung, shadows in vertigo.
Realize I- I- we who twist towards home,
white ghosts of memory, a cast coast in lost clothes,
past that shadow circle where, in danse, my soul lies.
Then I, still ship adrift, I crossed the shadow line.

 

[twelveoone]

Some notes

Other local debts:
goes into indigo,
thank you Maria 2394, I told you I would steal it.
Line 11 is shorter than the rest
Thank you again Maria, did you think I could forget?

The manifold of meanings.
In one aspect this is quite linear and literal, I was upset on hearing of Rybka's passing, I went for walk, this is what I saw. (I'm surprised at all the things I editted out) As it became darker, lights came on, and I found myself in circle of my own shadows and being somewhat of a poet, or at least pretending to be at the time I had what some would call a profound moment. You can read whatever else into it, chances are I either put it in, or you are more creative than I. Either way, that is the true object of poetry.

The blue hour, the shadow line are examples of how jargon removed from their usual settings become something else (poetic?). The blue hour - photography - the lighting around dusk, sometimes dawn.The Shadow Line is a book by Joseph Conrad. The shadow is an another term for the quadrilateral spinnaker (a sail), so crossing the shadowline indicates to me some change in the wind. Since Conrad the phrase has to be looked in a wholly different context.
Shadow has a variety of menings, implications, I call attention to the word green and point out green is the first colour to disappear at dusk. The word leaves repeated.

lead plum coloured - reddish purple, used for two reasons, one, it a little bit of a latinate play of words, plumbum being latin for lead. I thought Rybka might either be amused or outraged, but I think he would have caught it. Another I thought it a nifty trick to avoid the cliche of leadened skies.

white ghosts is a cliche, excuse me for that, used as a sort of return, both from the collective strangeness and since I used the darker end of the spectrum, full light.

 

[greenmountaineer]

Some years ago, Rybka.....

The Blue Hour.....

I'm speechless, except to say this was incredibly profound for me. Thank you.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I wish someone like that would actually give or had given lessons on how to critique beacause I'm obviously doing something wrong or I've chosen the wrong ones to offer advice to. Either way I humbly ask for help amd I'm not hi-jacking this thread because if someone can review on a regular basis they must have something to offer that I need to know

 

[twelveoone]

I wish someone like that would actually give or had given lessons on how to critique beacause I'm obviously doing something wrong or I've chosen the wrong ones to offer advice to. Either way I humbly ask for help amd I'm not hi-jacking this thread because if someone can review on a regular basis they must have something to offer that I need to know

ah years ago, when there where comments on the poems, there where also poems worth commenting on. Simply a critique is saying what you are seeing, with some thought behind it, nothing more, technical aspects are secondary. Harold Bloom has a whole series on poets, the one on Poe might be the best, because half of the essays will tell you why Poe was a bad poet and the other half, why he was good!

Another perspective, there are more poets than readers, even less people willing to say something about it. Just remember, constant effusive praise will kill a living writer.

So what did you think of the blue hour?
just testing
just kidding
the song of dry leaves creeps me out and I wrote the damn thing

 

[Angeline]

I used to think that you were a Rybbka alt. It took me a while to believe you weren't him. You can take that however you like, but I think very highly of him. And I miss him for all the reasons you said and also because he loved jazz.

 

[butters]

The Blue Hour

For Rybka
worthy of my undying regard - Joseph Conrad

Between twin dead branches, the blue dusk of the sky
drew down deserted streets, silent at dinnertime;
leaves breezeless still on trees, gift of persistant high.

I walked in twilit thought. Passed the plaster Marys-
Our Ladies of mown lawns - O virgin blue, pure, sublime.
Their painted fleshtone faces face green eternities.


The blue hour mutes the hues, goes into indigo,
lined lead plum coloured clouds glean the serene autumnal gloam,
through black boughs streetlights shown, and in a ring arose
to song of dry leaves sung, shadows in vertigo.
Realize I- I- we who twist towards home,
white ghosts of memory, a cast coast in lost clothes,
past that shadow circle where, in danse, my soul lies.
Then I, still ship adrift, I crossed the shadow line.

The blue hour, the shadow line are examples of how jargon removed from their usual settings become something else (poetic?). The blue hour - photography - the lighting around dusk, sometimes dawn.The Shadow Line is a book by Joseph Conrad. The shadow is an another term for the quadrilateral spinnaker (a sail), so crossing the shadowline indicates to me some change in the wind. Since Conrad the phrase has to be looked in a wholly different context.
Shadow has a variety of meanings, implications, I call attention to the word green and point out green is the first colour to disappear at dusk. The word leaves repeated.

lead plum coloured - reddish purple, used for two reasons, one, it a little bit of a latinate play of words, plumbum being latin for lead. I thought Rybka might either be amused or outraged, but I think he would have caught it. Another I thought it a nifty trick to avoid the cliche of leadened skies.

white ghosts is a cliche, excuse me for that, used as a sort of return, both from the collective strangeness and since I used the darker end of the spectrum, full light.

i am most pleased to make your aquaintance through your poetry, twelveoone. seems i am late to the party, not having had the pleasure of knowing Rybka's poetry or critiques either.

your notes on The Blue Hour add dimension to a piece i enjoyed for the ripeness of language and imagery that filled my mouth as i read aloud. your footnotes gave that added insight, particularly to that phrase 'crossed the shadow line'. anyone with a sailing background would no doubt have picked up on that immediately, but - for me - it worked absolutely even without the explanation... though not in same manner as with; different imagery leading to different outcomes, one more steeped in mystery by still deliciously attractive, the other more defined as was your intent.

the language here, its musicality, enriches the write for me:

The blue hour mutes the hues, goes into indigo,
lined lead plum coloured clouds glean the serene autumnal gloam,
through black boughs streetlights shown, and in a ring arose
to song of dry leaves sung, shadows in vertigo.

and yet i'm left questioning the word 'goes'. sound-wise, of course... but phrase-wise, makes me want to alter it - perhaps to 'moves', which would retain a sound-link with 'hues' yet lose its link with 'gloam'. tricky one. i definitely would have missed the latin allusion if not for your notes, so that's a bonus

a part of me wants to read this all in present tense, though the switching is absolutely acceptable and i am often found switching about myself; having said that, the change would be easily achieved but would lose the hard O of 'arose' - and that'd be a crime in itself as it feels so right.

these lines have to be my favourite:

Realize I- I- we who twist towards home,
white ghosts of memory, a cast coast in lost clothes,
past that shadow circle where, in danse, my soul lies.
Then I, still ship adrift, I crossed the shadow line.

despite my brain insisting i should be reading 'cross the shadow line' instead of 'crossed', i told it to quit its jabbering and enjoy the reality. my favourite lines because they hold depths the previous ones merely lean towards, imo. the most beguiling image, for me, the most intriguing, is that 'cast coast in lost clothes'... sends my imagination on a journey.

thankyou so much for posting this piece, twelveoone.

 

[Maria2394]

You did say you would steal it

You're welcome to it.

I loved Rybka's jokes. Here's one he would probably grimace at-

Q-"What do you call a midget psychic on the run from the law?"

A- A small medium at large


glad you are "back", 1201

 

[bflagsst]

"Realize I- I- we who twist towards home,
white ghosts of memory, a cast coast in lost clothes,
past that shadow circle where, in danse, my soul lies.
Then I, still ship adrift, I crossed the shadow line."

excellent closing

 

[wildsweetone]

...
Rybka was a critic.

he would never let me get away with using the word 'leaves', how come you get to use it?

 

[twelveoone]

I used to think that you were a Rybbka alt. It took me a while to believe you weren't him. You can take that however you like, but I think very highly of him. And I miss him for all the reasons you said and also because he loved jazz.

Rybbka
you gave me quite a scare - I dedicate something, and I get the name wrong, that would be really bad.

http://www.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=321029

whew, I didn't....
I was so glad he get an "E" for this

 

[Angeline]

Rybbka
you gave me quite a scare - I dedicate something, and I get the name wrong, that would be really bad.

http://www.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=321029

whew, I didn't....
I was so glad he get an "E" for this

Nope it was me. My typing hasn't improved since you were last here.

Your poem is a study in making every word count. I really like all the layers of meaning, depending on how one reads.

Do you mind if I post a Rybka poem? One of my favorites? I've always thought this poem is beautiful and has a lovely, studied pace.

Sundowner
(Rybka 1976)

Have not you ever seen
the sea turn red wine plum
and all the splashing colors run
when with a flash of green
the spinning earth does come
and swallows up the liquid sun.
All nature holds collective breath
of silent lemon-gold, high polished brass
washed copper coin.

Then wood dove calls the color orange
and dusk turns down star speckled bed
rose-carmethene limned
fizzy pillow pink
grape-purpled coverlet
tangerine and crimson sheets.

Rubescent clouds on damask feet
rush towards the darkling evening bight
to kiss and greet
the starlit night
homeward tolling fluffy sheep
they stop at earth-sky edge to bleat
and lick the sultry rim of sleep.

 

[twelveoone]

Do you mind if I post a Rybka poem?.

Not at all

it did suffer from a serious lack of leaves

 

[twelveoone]

i told it to quit its jabbering and enjoy the reality. my favourite lines because they hold depths the previous ones merely lean towards, imo. the most beguiling image, for me, the most intriguing, is that 'cast coast in lost clothes'... sends my imagination on a journey.

thankyou so much for posting this piece, twelveoone.

This about the 5th time, I've tried to respond. Connection keeps craping out I'll keep this one short.
The reality is make a lot of mistakes. I thank you. This tells me what it is doing, some of the things I have to rethink, rewrite. A thousand thanks!

 

[butters]

I've always thought this poem is beautiful and has a lovely, studied pace.

Sundowner
(Rybka 1976)

Have not you ever seen
the sea turn red wine plum
and all the splashing colors run
when with a flash of green
the spinning earth does come
and swallows up the liquid sun.
All nature holds collective breath
of silent lemon-gold, high polished brass
washed copper coin.

Then wood dove calls the color orange
and dusk turns down star speckled bed
rose-carmethene limned
fizzy pillow pink
grape-purpled coverlet
tangerine and crimson sheets.

Rubescent clouds on damask feet
rush towards the darkling evening bight
to kiss and greet
the starlit night
homeward tolling fluffy sheep
they stop at earth-sky edge to bleat
and lick the sultry rim of sleep.

oooooh - this made me say "wow!" - and these parts, fair swooning with delight

and all the splashing colors run
when with a flash of green
the spinning earth does come
and swallows up the liquid sun.

and dusk turns down star speckled bed

fizzy pillow pink

lick the sultry rim of sleep

that last in particular - bloody awesome.

 

[butters]

This about the 5th time, I've tried to respond. Connection keeps craping out I'll keep this one short.
The reality is make a lot of mistakes. I thank you. This tells me what it is doing, some of the things I have to rethink, rewrite. A thousand thanks!

if anything i ever say ever helps anyone then i'm pleased (and surprised in most instances ) so, yer welcome. even if all i did was allow you to look at it with different eyes. people might not agree with what i've said, but frequently go on to spot something they might phrase in another way or strengthen just because they're focusing in a new way and has nothing to do with whatever i was on about

 

[Angeline]

This about the 5th time, I've tried to respond. Connection keeps craping out I'll keep this one short.
The reality is make a lot of mistakes. I thank you. This tells me what it is doing, some of the things I have to rethink, rewrite. A thousand thanks!

She's a find: a good critiquer, um feedbacker. You know.

I also liked "a cast coast in lost clothes." It made me think of Sailing to Byzantium; you know, "a tattered coat upon a stick." But "coast" is more expansive in terms of how you can read it.

ETA: Chip, Rybka was one of the best reviewers here ever (imo), and he always fought for solid and sensible critiquing. He was a real friend to this forum. He wrote a poem once about a jazz performance he had seen in Washington, DC, I think. I'm trying to remember who it was about, maybe Stan Getz. Some jazz great Rybka had seen perform when he (Rybka) was very young, like early twenties. It's not here anymore. I wish I could read it. Maybe someone has it, maybe Wildsweetone. It was one of the best music poems I've ever read.

 

[butters]

She's a find: a good critiquer, um feedbacker. You know.

I also liked "a cast coast in lost clothes." It made me think of Sailing to Byzantium; you know, "a tattered coat upon a stick." But "coast" is more expansive in terms of how you can read it.

ETA: Chip, Rybka was one of the best reviewers here ever (imo), and he always fought for solid and sensible critiquing. He was a real friend to this forum. He wrote a poem once about a jazz performance he had seen in Washington, DC, I think. I'm trying to remember who it was about, maybe Stan Getz. Some jazz great Rybka had seen perform when he (Rybka) was very young, like early twenties. It's not here anymore. I wish I could read it. Maybe someone has it, maybe Wildsweetone. It was one of the best music poems I've ever read.

yeah yeah, i talk too much.

i regret never having been around to read him, Angie. a great loss to this site, for sure.

 

[wildsweetone]

She's a find: a good critiquer, um feedbacker. You know.

I also liked "a cast coast in lost clothes." It made me think of Sailing to Byzantium; you know, "a tattered coat upon a stick." But "coast" is more expansive in terms of how you can read it.

ETA: Chip, Rybka was one of the best reviewers here ever (imo), and he always fought for solid and sensible critiquing. He was a real friend to this forum. He wrote a poem once about a jazz performance he had seen in Washington, DC, I think. I'm trying to remember who it was about, maybe Stan Getz. Some jazz great Rybka had seen perform when he (Rybka) was very young, like early twenties. It's not here anymore. I wish I could read it. Maybe someone has it, maybe Wildsweetone. It was one of the best music poems I've ever read.

if i have it, it will be in one of the boxes currently stored and not easy to get at just at the moment. if you could get hold of me in about six months, i'll hunt it out for you xox

 

[Angeline]

if i have it, it will be in one of the boxes currently stored and not easy to get at just at the moment. if you could get hold of me in about six months, i'll hunt it out for you xox

I'll hold you to that, girlfriend.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I think I caught the last few drops of Rybka but I was very new and verrrrrrry quiet in those days!

 

[twelveoone]

if anything i ever say ever helps anyone then i'm pleased (and surprised in most instances ) so, yer welcome. even if all i did was allow you to look at it with different eyes. people might not agree with what i've said, but frequently go on to spot something they might phrase in another way or strengthen just because they're focusing in a new way and has nothing to do with whatever i was on about

:
rose:
your comments in italics, but first a question?
Are you from London? Reading your critique, I thought you might be from a little further north, I wouldn't expect this reaction from a southerner or a midlander.
It's not iambic pentameter.

on to your comments, and my replies

the language here, its musicality
the first thing that came to my mind was an essay I once read about Robinson Jeffers and the meteric fallacy. In it his work was praised for it's musicality. I doubt whether he is known at all in the UK, out of favour in the US. My experiment seems to have done better than expected.

and yet i'm left questioning the word 'goes'. sound-wise, of course... but phrase-wise, makes me want to alter it - perhaps to 'moves', which would retain a sound-link with 'hues' yet lose its link with 'gloam'. tricky one.

At first, my reaction was I don't want 'moves', not with all the 'still' s laying about. But the link was goes into indigo, and I don't want go-go. Not only doe it have a sound link with 'hues' but does something for 'mutes' which is sitting there unallliterated. Moves is the word most often used to desribe the spectral shift. Changed.

the switching ia part of me wants to read this all in present tense, though s absolutely acceptable

some tense switching is part of a Moderist sensibilty, some sloppiness. I realized I had changed the last line because I was done, done after three, four years, I forget how long it was. While looking the last line I also realized 'a ship adrift', used by me in this context is a cliche. Too much reliance on Conrad.
Here for the all i did was allow you to look at it with different eyes.
I can't thank you enough


particularly to that phrase 'crossed the shadow line'. anyone with a sailing background would no doubt have picked up on that immediately,

My impression was, it was an archaic term in 1915, and my guess is most sailors today wouldn't know.
Changed to crossing, although that is another book.

the change would be easily achieved but would lose the hard O of 'arose' - and that'd be a crime in itself as it feels so right.

and in a ring arose, when that came to me, I kept hearing 'all fall down' in eerie children's voices, holding up mirrors.
Stays.

is that 'cast coast in lost clothes'... sends my imagination on a journey.

Sorry to take the ship out. Upping the ante with Dante.

 

[twelveoone]

She's a find: a good critiquer, um feedbacker. You know.

I also liked "a cast coast in lost clothes." It made me think of Sailing to Byzantium; you know, "a tattered coat upon a stick." But "coast" is more expansive in terms of how you can read it.

ETA: Chip, Rybka was one of the best reviewers here ever (imo), and he always fought for solid and sensible critiquing. He was a real friend to this forum. He wrote a poem once about a jazz performance he had seen in Washington, DC, I think. I'm trying to remember who it was about, maybe Stan Getz. Some jazz great Rybka had seen perform when he (Rybka) was very young, like early twenties. It's not here anymore. I wish I could read it. Maybe someone has it, maybe Wildsweetone. It was one of the best music poems I've ever read.

She is!

as far as "a cast coast in lost clothes." made me think of that 'Actors on a stage' guy, you know the Godfather of Modern English, wrote all those plays, a few sonnets. Although I don't think he ever used that phrase. Maybe it came from Gilligan's Island - the Nude Musical.

I think Rybka may have been a little too strident in his reviews, but he was consistent. You spoke of alt's earler. One or maybe two people may know this, Rybka never found out. I found his weak spot. His comment on another poem, something like this can be read one or two ways. And I wrote in a third alt. four spaced lines two across and below it two more, and it could be read either straight across or as two columns. He liked it.

I'm glad Wildsweetone showed up, even she didn't like The blue hour; it is about my haunting, my regret we weren't friends, I don't know if that could have been possible, in some ways we were too much alike. After all didn't we hate the same things, that attitude that poetry isn't work and that it takes a considerable amount of reading before you even start.
Rybka - worthy of my undying regard.

Thank you all.

 

[twelveoone]

with changes

The Blue Hour
For Rybka
worthy of my undying regard - Joseph Conrad

Between twin dead branches, the blue dusk of the sky
drew down deserted streets, silent at dinnertime;
leaves breezeless still on trees, gift of persistant high.

I walk in twilit thought past the plaster Marys-
Our Ladies of mown lawns - O virgin blue, pure, sublime.
Their painted fleshtone faces face green eternities..


The blue hour mutes the hues, moves into indigo,
lined lead plum coloured clouds glean the serene autumnal gloam,
through black boughs streetlights shown, and in a ring arose
to song of dry leaves sung, shadows in vertigo.

Realize I- I- we who twist towards home,
white ghosts of memory, a cast coast in lost clothes,
past that shadow circle where, in danse, my soul lies,
still adrift, a shade shorn crossing the shadow line.




* Realize has three syllables here

any further comments, before I post this in new poems, with a sense of debt repaid.
I've not outraged anyone's poetic sensibilities? A shame, Rybka would have expected it of me.

 

[butters]

:
rose:
your comments in italics, but first a question?
Are you from London? Reading your critique, I thought you might be from a little further north, I wouldn't expect this reaction from a southerner or a midlander.
It's not iambic pentameter.

on to your comments, and my replies

the language here, its musicality
the first thing that came to my mind was an essay I once read about Robinson Jeffers and the meteric fallacy. In it his work was praised for its musicality. I doubt whether he is known at all in the UK, out of favour in the US. My experiment seems to have done better than expected.

and yet i'm left questioning the word 'goes'. sound-wise, of course... but phrase-wise, makes me want to alter it - perhaps to 'moves', which would retain a sound-link with 'hues' yet lose its link with 'gloam'. tricky one.

At first, my reaction was I don't want 'moves', not with all the 'still' s laying about. But the link was goes into indigo, and I don't want go-go. Not only doe it have a sound link with 'hues' but does something for 'mutes' which is sitting there unalliterated. Moves is the word most often used to describe the spectral shift. Changed.

the switching, a part of me wants to read this all in present tense, though is absolutely acceptable

some tense switching is part of a Modernist sensibility, some sloppiness. I realized I had changed the last line because I was done, done after three, four years, I forget how long it was. While looking the last line I also realized 'a ship adrift', used by me in this context is a cliche. Too much reliance on Conrad.
Here for the all i did was allow you to look at it with different eyes.
I can't thank you enough


particularly to that phrase 'crossed the shadow line'. anyone with a sailing background would no doubt have picked up on that immediately,

My impression was, it was an archaic term in 1915, and my guess is most sailors today wouldn't know.
Changed to crossing, although that is another book.

the change would be easily achieved but would lose the hard O of 'arose' - and that'd be a crime in itself as it feels so right.

and in a ring arose, when that came to me, I kept hearing 'all fall down' in eerie children's voices, holding up mirrors.
Stays.

is that 'cast coast in lost clothes'... sends my imagination on a journey.

Sorry to take the ship out. Upping the ante with Dante.

yes, i'm from London. from out near Hainault (one of Henry's favourite hunting grounds). Dagenham isn't as pretty. *sigh* i'm left wondering where your comment stems from... had run-ins with other londonites more strait-jacketed by form over art? blame my love of reading and my lack of advanced education in literature

glad something i said was useful, and loving the changes - and the fact you kept arose. i heard that too...

eternities - is that an extra period or a shortened ellipsis?