03·Feb·2006 · "Morning On The Queue" · TheRainMan

[The Poets]

Morning On the Queue

After the slaughters and tribunals,
a thousand writs and witherings,
they’re up before the copper launch

of dawn to watch the change of guard.
They needed no bells. They woke
to the yawns of a bloodthirsty sun

about to peek above the parapet
to light the walk in no man’s land.
They know today another snap of light

will come. Not the synchronized sizzle
of bulbs that marked the spark
of the old fast burn, but above

a gurney, a strapped man.
Their heads drop down
to legal texts that hold somewhere,

somewhere, the words to stop
the brilliant break of their own day.
They do still dream. Not of women

or wealth, but moving away from light,
like a wild scramble of crabs
in the hold, needing the cold sea,

the comfort of known darkness,
their world suddenly
far too bright and turning.​

 

[clutching_calliope]

Hopefully this thread is not 4 years old...

.....

 

[clutching_calliope]

Critique continue

.....

 

[Liar]

Ok, here we go. This is not going to be a "ypou should edit this stanza", "wrong tense here" and "I like that metaphor" kind of criticism. I can't do those well.




TRM, you are one of the poets here whose work I constantly seek out and thoroughly enjoy. You have a way with narrative poetry that sucks me into the scene almost every time.

Almost. Here is one of the times when you didn't. Let me try to explain why.

This poem is...I don't know...the word I'm looking for is imprecise, I guess. Not imprecise in the micro sense. Every line holds it's own and contains very sharp imagery on their own.

But I read and reread, and I can't find the context. I can't connect the dots. It’s like a vague smell, just out of reach. I can't find where, why, who or even what "they" are. It is not, at least to me, even alluded.

So what I get is a beautifully eloquent poem about nothing. A very disturbing image, a very tangible mood, but so zoomed in it means nothing. And therefore I can't relate, can't find empathy for the situation in the way that your poems usually have me hooked within half a stanza.

This may be my own fault, an ignorance of obvious references that clears the haze. Can't say. I can just tell you how I as a reader react. This poem doesn't become a part of my world. Because I'm unable to either assimilate it (sorting the story and imagery into understandable existing categories in my mental landscape) or accommodate it (expanding my mind, creating new categories to house it).

What's the solution? Me getting a clue? I think my problem with it lies with not finding a basic navigational reference. A hint of a time and a place.



End of my 2c. I hope that made some kind of sense. Good lucketh with the poem.

 

[*Catbabe*]

Ok, here we go. This is not going to be a "ypou should edit this stanza", "wrong tense here" and "I like that metaphor" kind of criticism. I can't do those well.




TRM, you are one of the poets here whose work I constantly seek out and thoroughly enjoy. You have a way with narrative poetry that sucks me into the scene almost every time.

Almost. Here is one of the times when you didn't. Let me try to explain why.

This poem is...I don't know...the word I'm looking for is imprecise, I guess. Not imprecise in the micro sense. Every line holds it's own and contains very sharp imagery on their own.

But I read and reread, and I can't find the context. I can't connect the dots. It’s like a vague smell, just out of reach. I can't find where, why, who or even what "they" are. It is not, at least to me, even alluded.

So what I get is a beautifully eloquent poem about nothing. A very disturbing image, a very tangible mood, but so zoomed in it means nothing. And therefore I can't relate, can't find empathy for the situation in the way that your poems usually have me hooked within half a stanza.

This may be my own fault, an ignorance of obvious references that clears the haze. Can't say. I can just tell you how I as a reader react. This poem doesn't become a part of my world. Because I'm unable to either assimilate it (sorting the story and imagery into understandable existing categories in my mental landscape) or accommodate it (expanding my mind, creating new categories to house it).

What's the solution? Me getting a clue? I think my problem with it lies with not finding a basic navigational reference. A hint of a time and a place.



End of my 2c. I hope that made some kind of sense. Good lucketh with the poem.

I don't care if you aren't supposed to read other people's reactions to the poem. I did and I had a similar one to Liar which I think is relevant in terms of reader response.

I can appreciate the art and skill that is evident in every single line and I cannot find technical fault with anything at first glance. However, I think the poem is missing 'the people' which usually give your poems their life. I don't mean overt or literal character, I just mean the 'who' in your poem is not clear enough for me to care about the why or how. You usually have the whole package so it's noticeable when a little piece is missing.

 

[TheRainMan]

Maybe this will help the context for y'all -- I changed it because it felt too obvious to me. I guess it wasn't.


The original title:

Death Row

carry on . . . the more the merrier . . . I will answer the critiques when they're done. Thanks to those above, and in advance to those below.

Patrick

 

[*Catbabe*]

Maybe this will help the context for y'all -- I changed it because it felt too obvious to me. I guess it wasn't.


The original title:

Death Row

carry on . . . the more the merrier . . . I will answer the critiques when they're done. Thanks to those above, and in advance to those below.

Patrick

I understood the poem. You have enough references in there to follow the story but I didn't feel the depth of emotion I would have expected.

I was left with a desire to know more, not out of curiosity but out of frustration.

 

[bogusbrig]

I'm afraid I'm joining the line of people saying it didn't do it for me. The poem felt like craft without artistry. Normally I read your poems and I'm drawn into the narrative and only after the first reading do I start to look at the craft of how you constructed the poem. In this poem I was analysing the craft as I read it. You have some good imagery but it doesn't seem to hold together as a whole. To me there seems to be a void at the poem's centre. It could be because the poem is not populated or at least feels unpopulated but this could simply be my preference for poems to be populated but in this case, I don't think it is.

 

[twelveoone]

Aren't Critics wonderfull?
Missing....
"Their heads drop down to legal texts" combined with the title begiins to take it away from the sweat
Add this...
"Not the synchronized sizzle "
well it looks like a bit too coy ref to ol Sparky.
Speaking of Sparky....
"will come. Not the synchronized sizzle
of bulbs that marked the spark
of the old fast burn, but above"
This would go nice with it, but you have
"a gurney, "
and this may go nice with lethal injection:
"like a wild scramble of crabs
in the hold, needing the cold sea, "

Decide on the death, the reaction to, align the images.

 

[TheRainMan]

The poem is evolving as you all place your ideas here.

That is how it works - you speak - I consider, and act or not.

For instance, improving the title, for clarity. . . Dead Men Waiting

Please, more.

 

[champagne1982]

Good Morning, sir.

I'm happy to say that I understood the what of this poem, but I was mislead about the who. I saw those men

Their heads drop down
to legal texts that hold somewhere,

somewhere, the words to stop

as the executioners, not the condemned. Death row is far removed (at least in my understanding) from the actual site of public execution. I know it takes place, likely, in the same wing of many prisons, but I don't think the humanity of those choreographers of the deed, would allow those awaiting similar fates to see the man as he is strapped down.

The dying is for select viewing only, in other words. But, in retrospect, I suppose even the executioners must seek a stay from the ultimate govenor, of their own poor exits from the living.

Thankyou.

 

[bogusbrig]

The poem is evolving as you all place your ideas here.

That is how it works - you speak - I consider, and act or not.

For instance, improving the title, for clarity. . . Dead Men Waiting

Please, more.

Aah Maybe it was me just being dumb. 1201 enlightened me somewhat but I have to admit I didn't understand the imagery. Execution never entered my head though I did think this was a pretty violent sunrise but couldn't figure out why.

My excuse. It was my birthday yesterday and I'm suffering one hell of a hangover.

 

[TheRainMan]

Now, isn't this productive.

. . . progression - Draft 2 -

Don't stop with the thoughts, please. They are ever so helpful.


Dead Men Waiting

After the slaughters and tribunals,
all the writs and witherings,
they rise before the copper launch

of dawn to watch the change of guard.
They need no bells. They wake
to the yawn of a bloodthirsty sun

about to peek above the parapet
to light the walk in no man’s land.
Today another snap of light

will come. Not in the synchronized sizzle
of bulbs that mark the spark
of the old fast burn, but in the eyes

of the triggerman with his big thumb,
above their bedfellow strapped
to a gurney. In cages, they’ll drop

their heads to mourn, to read
legal texts that hold
somewhere, somewhere, the words

to stop the brilliant break
of their own day.
They do still dream—not of women

or wealth, but moving away from light
like a wild scramble of crabs
in the hold, needing the cold sea,

the comfort of known darkness,
their world suddenly
far too bright and turning.



. . . more, please, if you have the urge . . . anyone.

 

[Guest]

Now, isn't this productive.

. . . progression - Draft 2 -

Don't stop with the thoughts, please. They are ever so helpful.


Dead Men Waiting

After the slaughters and tribunals,
all the writs and witherings,
they rise before the copper launch

of dawn to watch the change of guard. -- these lines are very effective
They need no bells. They wake
to the yawn of a bloodthirsty sun

about to peek above the parapet -- I find "peek" a bit too cartoony for the subject.
to light the walk in no man’s land.
Today another snap of light

will come. Not in the synchronized sizzle
of bulbs that mark the spark
of the old fast burn, but in the eyes

of the triggerman with his big thumb,
above their bedfellow strapped
to a gurney. In cages, they’ll drop

their heads to mourn, to read
legal texts that hold
somewhere, somewhere, the words

to stop the brilliant break
of their own day. -- more brilliance.
They do still dream—not of women

or wealth, but moving away from light
like a wild scramble of crabs
in the hold, needing the cold sea,

the comfort of known darkness,
their world suddenly
far too bright and turning.



. . . more, please, if you have the urge . . . anyone.

I like thise immensely and my comments are just crass, really. Now I'll just wait to see where this one finds a home.

 

[Liar]

Well, I can't say if it is because you flat out told us, or if it's the re-write and new title, but I get a much better feel for the context now. The flickering of lights was not something that I instinctively associated w executions, and the reast lead me in other directions. In my mind (clouded by the hollywood portrayal of it, no doubt) a death row is not a place where you even see the sun much. So initially my mind wandered to POW camps, gulag, concentration camps, possibly gitmo.

I think it reads beautifully now. my only exception would be what Tess pointed out: A sun in such a gloomy place should not play peek-a-boo. Let it just rise. Or maybe 'glare' or something?

 

[Vampiric_Mirage]

Hey,
Haven't been in this section for a bit. Just found your poem. I agree with the general consensus, the word "peek" just doesn't seem appropriate. If you're hoping to keep the alliteration with the word "parapet" maybe pierce would work as a replacement word? My only other comment would be the line "of bulbs that mark the spark", I'm not sure why, but I find that phrase awkward/inappropriate.

Anyways, good luck with any further revisions. This revision is much better than the original, I can't wait to see the final product!

 

[wildsweetone]

Now, isn't this productive.

. . . progression - Draft 2 -

Don't stop with the thoughts, please. They are ever so helpful.


Dead Men Waiting

After the slaughters and tribunals,
all the writs and witherings,
they rise before the copper launch

of dawn to watch the change of guard.
They need no bells. They wake
to the yawn of a bloodthirsty sun

about to peek above the parapet
to light the walk in no man’s land.
Today another snap of light

will come. Not in the synchronized sizzle
of bulbs that mark the spark
of the old fast burn, but in the eyes

of the triggerman with his big thumb,
above their bedfellow strapped
to a gurney. In cages, they’ll drop

their heads to mourn, to read
legal texts that hold
somewhere, somewhere, the words

to stop the brilliant break
of their own day.
They do still dream—not of women

or wealth, but moving away from light
like a wild scramble of crabs
in the hold, needing the cold sea,

the comfort of known darkness,
their world suddenly
far too bright and turning.



. . . more, please, if you have the urge . . . anyone.

some thoughts from me:

-stanza 1 & 2-does copper 'clash' with the red of the 'bloodthirsty sun'?

-stanza 2-'yawn' and 'bloodthirsty' an oxymoron that is distracting for me.

-stanza 5-'triggerman' when i think of trigger i think of gun, not of injection, though thumb relates well with injection. perhaps you thought of having a 'shot' i.e. having an injection. trigger still fits but it's not a direct line of thought for me.

-stanza 7- the word 'brilliant' is a too happy happy joy joy word for me. the alliteration is great but 'brilliant' is too bright a mood, in my opinion. i realise that the word in this context refers to a sudden awareness

-stanza 8- '...but of moving away...'

-stanza 9- 'and turning' almost needs a line to itself as it is as important as 'far too bright'.

like i said, just thoughts.

 

[bogusbrig]

I really like this now that you have given me a compass. I think Trist and WSO picked up on a couple of minor problems, other than that great.

yawn of the bloodthirsty sun I do find a problem. Yawn is too passive a word for possibly the last dawn a man might see.

 

[annaswirls]

Rainman,

Thank you for putting up a poem for us to study!

I am going to stick to the feel of this poem. It was difficult for me to determine your intention. In some phrases, the emotional bend was towards the accused, not for sympathy exactly, but perhaps empathy, the horror of what they were facing? But other phrases were more harsh, as if they are getting what they deserve. Of course the situation is not black and white by any means, but the lack of a strong emotional thread without any connection to any one dead man waiting made this feel flat to me.

This read like a description of the event to me, and a good one at that. It is jam packed with images, the flash bulbs, the scrambling crab.

I love the line "they need no bells"

This is personal preference for me, but I like more detail of the human component. You go there in the last stanza but it was hard for me to feel. It felt like something did not add up. They dream of moving away from the light like the scrambling crabs?

I am not claiming I could do this any better. I think bottom line, I wanted to get a closer view of the men in the title, some human action or reaction. Technically this is a clean poem, with poetic devices throughout, alliteration, metaphor, similie, personification, onomatopoeia, imagery, assonance... we could use this poem on a poetry final and have the students pick out an example of each, it is all there and original and noteworthy. I just could not feel the passion, I could not feel what you were feeling when you wrote this, but perhaps that was not your intention.

all the best,
annas

 

[Sabina_Tolchovsky]

the rewrite was far clearer to me...

I did agree with WSO about the bloodthirsty sun...seems like it should be a roar and not a yawn. Also, I think the word peek is inappropriate; lacking the impact required from such a poem.

 

[twelveoone]

Rainman,

Thank you for putting up a poem for us to study!

I am going to stick to the feel of this poem. It was difficult for me to determine your intention. In some phrases, the emotional bend was towards the accused, not for sympathy exactly, but perhaps empathy, the horror of what they were facing? But other phrases were more harsh, as if they are getting what they deserve. Of course the situation is not black and white by any means, but the lack of a strong emotional thread without any connection to any one dead man waiting made this feel flat to me.

This read like a description of the event to me, and a good one at that. It is jam packed with images, the flash bulbs, the scrambling crab.

I love the line "they need no bells"

This is personal preference for me, but I like more detail of the human component. You go there in the last stanza but it was hard for me to feel. It felt like something did not add up. They dream of moving away from the light like the scrambling crabs?

I am not claiming I could do this any better. I think bottom line, I wanted to get a closer view of the men in the title, some human action or reaction. Technically this is a clean poem, with poetic devices throughout, alliteration, metaphor, similie, personification, onomatopoeia, imagery, assonance... we could use this poem on a poetry final and have the students pick out an example of each, it is all there and original and noteworthy. I just could not feel the passion, I could not feel what you were feeling when you wrote this, but perhaps that was not your intention.

all the best,
annas

This is a difficult area to work in, one expects a little more passion, a little more political statement. Rainman's MO is de-politicizing poetry. The problem with that is some of the words may come across (sizzle) as a bit too fey.

I am still bothered by the title choices, still bothered by most of the word choices seem to refer to electrocution. Either balance it, (i.e. more injection) or weed it.

 

[TheRainMan]

Thank you all so much for your thoughts.

I have been crazy busy, plus have had severe wireless problems that have prevented me from answering you all and putting up the latest mutation of the poem.

I will do that for sure this week. So many good points were raised -- I have answers for them.

And, as always, the ones I have no answer to because I felt they were valid forced me to make some changes.

I'll be back . . . as soon as life and technology start behaving themselves.

 

[anonamouse]

And, as always, the ones I have no answer to because I felt they were valid forced me to make some changes.

That is what it is all about
I don't often do the flower thing for guys, but what the hell we're man enuff to take the hits...
1201