12·Dec·2006 · "song for the corn" · lobomao

[WickedEve]

song for the corn
by lobomao

There are those
And those there are
Who say I take my way
Me to myself too far
And so too true too
As I skip rope rote
I might a might too playful
As in a play a pen I might
Shaking out all old shadows
All in all in all in night
So as the beat drop drips
Honey’d words from high
I see my stars as satilites
Lending leading light to sky
One compelled one once complained
Of cranky crunky crickets caged
Trick trapping flap flying tongues
Loosened leather stories of old shoes
Wagging left right left right left right

The miller grinds his work day out
The thresher so too sways
We’ve lost our rhythm for simple things
With firm fermentation of our days

Roll it up and roll it down
Sycophant afoot a fuss
Back to back and back again
The use of useless tasks
Will it ever never end
Clock theory takes us
To the top of the riff
We relieve our moment
As addict repeats and repeats
Those precious pieces of yesterday
Which caught the tomorrow we dreamed
If we put them end to end to end
I wouldn’t be a bit surpirsed
Hoping for a next right time
Use your mentality
Wake up to reality
I’ve tried so something or other
And then again I do​

Notes by the author:

lobomao wants to know;
my somewhat established style has often been remarked upon; I chose this because I feel she is typical of my work; personal vs epic, usage of sound play, modern and classic references, and could probably benefiet with some good editing.

so here is question - what is most effective element in this poem vs what is least effective for you.

she is unusual as I am nota so happy with the end. can you help el lobomao find a good ending? It's like a lobomao fun page!

thanks to everyone!
blessed be

 

[FifthFlower]

song for the corn
by lobomao

[poem omitted]

lobomao wants to know;
my somewhat established style has often been remarked upon; I chose this because I feel she is typical of my work; personal vs epic, usage of sound play, modern and classic references, and could probably benefiet with some good editing.

so here is question - what is most effective element in this poem vs what is least effective for you.

she is unusual as I am nota so happy with the end. can you help el lobomao find a good ending? It's like a lobomao fun page!

thanks to everyone!
blessed be​

I'm curious about one thing: is English your native language? I suspect you write better Spanish than English.

I was going to ask you to paraphrase what you thought you communicated in prose, just as an exercise, but looking at your prose, I wonder if you would be able to to do that. Perhaps a paraphrase in Spanish is something I could ask for?

As a reader, who doesn't know what you are talking about, I'm caught in a dilemma:

1. If I admit I don't understand you, then I expose myself to ridicule. I become that person who is just too dense to understand. I become a target.

2. If I try to make sense out of what you are saying, and then paraphrase that for you, I run the risk that you will not be generous, because, obviously, I'm going to be wrong. Again, I expose myself to ridicule.

So to answer your question, "what is least effective to you"? The least effective thing for me is I don't understand what you are saying. The other half of your question: "what is the most effective element in the poem"? Since I don't understand what you are trying to communicate, there is no effective element in the poem.

Don't get me wrong. I don't mind that I don't understand your poem. However, if you happen to be a college professor or even a graduate student with superb communication skills masquerading as someone who's English is primitive -- then I would be annoyed.

 

[Cub4ucme]

song for the corn
by lobomao

There are those
And those there are
Who say I take my way
Me to myself too far
And so too true too
As I skip rope rote
I might a might too playful
As in a play a pen I might
Shaking out all old shadows
All in all in all in night
So as the beat drop drips
Honey’d words from high
I see my stars as satilites
Lending leading light to sky
One compelled one once complained
Of cranky crunky crickets caged
Trick trapping flap flying tongues
Loosened leather stories of old shoes
Wagging left right left right left right

The miller grinds his work day out
The thresher so too sways
We’ve lost our rhythm for simple things
With firm fermentation of our days

Roll it up and roll it down
Sycophant afoot a fuss
Back to back and back again
The use of useless tasks
Will it ever never end
Clock theory takes us
To the top of the riff
We relieve our moment
As addict repeats and repeats
Those precious pieces of yesterday
Which caught the tomorrow we dreamed
If we put them end to end to end
I wouldn’t be a bit surpirsed
Hoping for a next right time
Use your mentality
Wake up to reality
I’ve tried so something or other
And then again I do​

My take:

Your poem came across as if to say, "Look at me, I'm clever."

Now, I'm not implying that is how you feel. I'm responding as
a reader who had a very hard time just finishing the poem.

I've run across this in workshops frequently; the poet paying
so much attention to alliteration and sound that they fail
the poem in a more critical way.

It makes little sense to write a poem that doesn't say much.
A poem that jumps around all over the place but, never seems
to go anywhere.

Here's the only part of the poem where I felt it might
start to go somwhere:

>>>>>>>>>
The miller grinds his work day out
The thresher so too sways
We’ve lost our rhythm for simple things
With firm fermentation of our days
<<<<<<<<<

What I do see that deserves some space in regard to critique
are signs of skilled word usage. It's here and there and not
at all tight enough for my liking but, I did see glimpeses of it.

Some of the lines are clumbsy even though the word-play
looks good on the page. I don't think writing poetry
to create the affect of a tongue-twister is a worthwhile
endeavor. That is unless the poem was very short
and written with a very skilled hand.

Maybe someone will come along here and bring me up
a step or two. Maybe, I'm missing something but, I somehow
doubt it at the moment.

best,
andy

 

[champagne1982]

Hi lobo,

I think you should try to bring this

Use your mentality
Wake up to reality
I’ve tried so something or other
And then again I do

into the same rhythm and scheme as this

The miller grinds his work day out
The thresher so too sways
We’ve lost our rhythm for simple things
With firm fermentation of our days

to something close to what follows in red.

I stand laughing in my frustration
begging esteemed scholar rack your brain
effort expands your momentous mentality
while the realist twists, wracked with pain

and the new ending?

I've tried so sorrowed
disavowed dismay
promise and perjured
no more vile vagaries
and then again, I don't but do.

I enjoyed the alliteration and assonance inside the poem. If you change anything, try to keep that feature whole.

Just some quick thoughts. I hope they help a bit.

p.s. satellite in V.1 L.13

 

[lobomao]

wow.

this is totally why I needed to post something up for discussion... thanks y'all so far.

first and perhaps most dire;
Fifthflower - I am not about ridicule. Nor am I about showing off how clever I am; I do appreciate a clever poem, but if a work is so esoteric there is no way anyone but the author would understand or enjoy it, then it's just a creul trap that you imply... having said that;

I do like leaving a poem abstract enough for the reader to project their own meaning and colors onto the poem... in the same way that abstract art does... I think what I hear you say is that it is difficult to see a meaning here with all the verbal trickery - this is echoed in CuB4's comment as well...

In this piece i did lay my sound play on a little thick.. too thick obviously... CuB4 is dead on I think pointing out that many lines could be tightened down and not so sloppy.

I believe this; the poet writes the poem, and then it belongs to the reader. there is no wrong interpretation; you read it one way, and that is very valid and I value your feedback. thanks!

I posted this one as I feel it is one of my weaker ones; your points give me a lot to think about, I am a little surprised that I come across ESL .... but that may be because I do write abstractly... I will look at that. I am dyslexic, which does help with the confusion.

I like the abstract quality, but I am hearing that it is pulling readers out of the poem. hurm...

 

[lobomao]

champagne -
thank you very much !

damn! spellcheck!!!! that's such a bitch when a) you make up words, b) have a hard time with them in the first place, and c) your spell check is designed by satan!! sigh.

I will write "satellite" 100 times... and "cruel" ... maybe I AM ESL... oy.

OOOHH I like the ending - the last line esp. wicked. I really feel my end needs a re-working such as the one you put forth - it's a serise of references on top of references that don't really fly...

I have an idea for a better end; but I'll hold my breathe to see who else wants to throw down on this puppy.

thanx!

 

[TheRainMan]

lobo,

this critique is going to be a bit harsh, but that's what this section of the PF&D opens a writer up to. i commend you for putting one of your poems up, and i'm certainly glad, after all this time, that you decided to move from the "New Poems" page and come to the forums, where the real action is. i think you have much to contribute here.

i find the poem unreadable. it i weren't reading it for critique, i would have stopped after the second line, which is just a pointless rewording of the first.

i do not think this is 'abstract writing,' just a poem that has nothing to say.

it has no content.

a poem without content is worse than a blank page, because it takes up space for no reason, and time as well.

and, it does indeed read to me like it was written by someone who thinks they have a grasp of the language, but don't. i have read poetry from you that is far better than this, so i know you DO have a grip on language.

i have always found your penchant for wordplay more annoying than anything else, since i think it exists in your poems for itself alone, and not to move the poems forward in any meaningful way. for that reason, i find the words tricks lacking in poetic integrity.

this poem -- there is just nothing worthwhile there, in my opinion. unless it is perhaps a few decent lines upon which you can base another poem.

 

[vampiredust]

I think the problem I have as a reader is that there is too much alliteration and repetition in the poem. The first stanza, in particular, was difficult to read and I found that some of the lines with this alliteration/repetition didn't make much sense nor add anything to the image that was being built up.

For example:

And those there are
Who say I take my way
Me to myself too far
And so too true too
As I skip rope rote

Say what?

I did like this stanza, though:

The miller grinds his work day out
The thresher so too sways
We’ve lost our rhythm for simple things
With firm fermentation of our days

and think they could be the core of a very good poem.

 

[lobomao]

mornin' y'all -

thanks RM; yeah I came here to get a more detailed feedback and editing perspective on my poems... I really appreciate you checking in and hoped you would; you have been my most pronounced critic and as such i value your perspective.

this poem was actually written to you, in a weird way.

So I have your opinion, but I seem to be missing any specific thoughts on how to make this a better poem other than to make the content and message clearer and a tighter more focused form of word play.

It would be really helpful to me if you could point out, in your humble opinion, which lines show promise to you.

thanx man, lobo

 

[lobomao]

Hey Vamp!!!

So my favorite vampire like several others is pointing to the sweet lil stanza about the miller as a stronger part of the poem;

The miller grinds his work day out
The thresher so too sways
We’ve lost our rhythm for simple things
With firm fermentation of our days

As CuB4 has pointed out; it needs tightening up, I think it's a little sloppy; but I felt it is made more effective by being surrounded by the abstractions before and after it, like a bridge or a coda.... what do the poets think?

 

[Gaia_Lorraine]

dag yo -

I had hopes of someone else choosing which of my errant children would stand before the sails and heed the call of sirens.


thanks Eve, very well... I choose what I think is the weaker ofthe two;

song for the corn
by lobomao ©

There are those
And those there are
Who say I take my way
Me to myself too far
And so too true too
As I skip rope rote
I might a might too playful
As in a play a pen I might
Shaking out all old shadows
All in all in all in night
So as the beat drop drips
Honey’d words from high
I see my stars as satilites
Lending leading light to sky
One compelled one once complained
Of cranky crunky crickets caged
Trick trapping flap flying tongues
Loosened leather stories of old shoes
Wagging left right left right left right

The miller grinds his work day out
The thresher so too sways
We’ve lost our rhythm for simple things
With firm fermentation of our days

Roll it up and roll it down
Sycophant afoot a fuss
Back to back and back again
The use of useless tasks
Will it ever never end
Clock theory takes us
To the top of the riff
We relieve our moment
As addict repeats and repeats
Those precious pieces of yesterday
Which caught the tomorrow we dreamed
If we put them end to end to end
I wouldn’t be a bit surpirsed
Hoping for a next right time
Use your mentality
Wake up to reality
I’ve tried so something or other
And then again I do

lobomao wants to know;
my somewhat established style has often been remarked upon; I chose this because I feel she is typical of my work; personal vs epic, usage of sound play, modern and classic references, and could probably benefiet with some good editing.

so here is question - what is most effective element in this poem vs what is least effective for you.

she is unusual as I am nota so happy with the end. can you help el lobomao find a good ending? It's like a lobomao fun page!

thanks to everyone!
blessed be

I hear what lobomao is saying. About repetition and the images she uses...

As I skip rope rote
So as the beat drop drips
The miller grinds his work day out
Back to back and back again
Will it ever never end
As addict repeats and repeats

Try this ending to emphasise the image...

Use your mentality
Wake up to reality
I’ve tried so something or other
again and again...

 

[lobomao]

I hear what lobomao is saying. About repetition and the images she uses...

As I skip rope rote
So as the beat drop drips
The miller grinds his work day out
Back to back and back again
Will it ever never end
As addict repeats and repeats

Try this ending to emphasise the image...

Use your mentality
Wake up to reality
I’ve tried so something or other
again and again...

hey thanks!!! i will give the ending a harder looky-loo... excellent suggestion

 

[lobomao]

i have no idea how you might start making this particular poem better, since i don't think there is much there to work with.

the middle strophe has a bit something to say, in my opinion (and some others have been caught by it also, judging from their comments), unlike the rest. but it is aborted very quickly. i might use those lines to build something from or around.

the main problem i have is that your wordplay becomes by far the dominant force. it completely drowns whatever content there is (and i do think you meant it to have content), so that it is the primary focus in the poem. for me, the playfulness is so "in my face" it gives the poem an insincere and artificial feel.

the poem is all gimcrack and lacks substance, IMO.

I love the word "gimcrack".

I hear what you are saying, thanks!

I got this spam today in my mail; you know the random generated type -

"One man's junk is another man's treasure
Why have a dog and bark yourself?
Don't trudge mud into the house of love
Possible Interpretation: All style and no substance
You are responsible for you"

weird huh?

 

[unapologetic]

Read it outloud...

I know I'm late to the party, but here are my critiques.

The second time I read this piece, I read it outloud, and I think, taken that way, it works really well. Here are a few things that I would tweak, though:

1. I would add some punctuation. Admittedly that might break the stream of conciousness flow. However, by marking the points at which you pause when you're reading it to yourself, you'll help the reader hear your voice more clearly.

2. Instead of this order: "Lending leading light to sky," maybe try reversing the first two words of the line. "Leading lending light to sky" rolls off my tongue more fluidly.

3. While I do love the miller, this part is my favorite:
"One compelled one once complained
Of cranky crunky crickets caged
Trick trapping flap flying tongues
Loosened leather stories of old shoes
Wagging left right left right left right"
I can hear the crickets when I read this.

 

[sophieloves]

Notes by the author:

lobomao wants to know;
my somewhat established style has often been remarked upon; I chose this because I feel she is typical of my work; personal vs epic, usage of sound play, modern and classic references, and could probably benefiet with some good editing.

so here is question - what is most effective element in this poem vs what is least effective for you.

she is unusual as I am nota so happy with the end. can you help el lobomao find a good ending? It's like a lobomao fun page!

thanks to everyone!
blessed be

hello. i will offer my thoughts, such as they are, and i will do so before reading what others have to say then see if i should have read this differently. ok?

right. no doubt i'll have missed references, please bear with me- i like this more because of how it sounds (in my head) reading it than for what it's actually saying to me. there is a playfulness, a flirting with the use of words i find appealing. this works better in the first verse than the third, though i liked how you used that middle piece to change the mood, allowing a more sombre tone to infiltrate the third section.

whether it was the mention of 'pen' or 'play' or 'night', there was a definite link to Shakespeare for me by the time i got to 'Shaking out the shadows' - a phrase i found evocative and resonant. i'm asking myself at this point if the styling was deliberately to make the reader 'hear' a player on the stage, but such is life i'm thinking it must have been.

the second half of the opening verse then seems to flip from Shakespeare to Beat poetry - something i'm less keen on though have read some i admire. it utilises a different 'flavour' in my mind as i read it, and juxtaposed with the earlier (in my mind more elegant) tones serves to highlight both. is it a transition that would work by splitting the verse ? i don't know is 'satilite' a typo, or is it a play on 'satelite'? it dumps me right into the words 'satelite of love' - lou reed and the velvet underground - beat poetry era???

now your middle lines fall right away from the convoluted language and conceits of Shakespeare and the beats - i'm seeing the Haywain and Thomas Hardy and and and... sigh. even the simple rhythms of countrylife were taken and made chocolate-box sentimental, though not so much with Hardy i acknowledge - if anything the harsh grind of country life was stressed in his writings but he still used wonderful descriptive language in places that lifts the soul.

where was i? sorry, i got lost in thought.

somehow your middle four lines work better for me without the fourth. and i find myself empathising with the message there.

the first half of your third verse or strophe or whatever i should call it kind of echoes the feel of the language in the first verse but with more sombre overtones, less... lilting, i think's the word. more shadows and gloominess is the feel. but the second half of the third verse then fails me as a reader: it starts telling me what to think. it seems to lose the spirit of the rest and turns my ears off and away from what you're saying, even if it's a worthwhile message to hear - i don't like the delivery and so it gets lost on me.


thanks for the read

 

[lorencino]

An Illustrated (and demonstrated) {and dramatized} Textual Analysis

There are those
And those there are
Other than the musicality of these lines I have no idea what differences occur in meaning between L1 and L2: da da Daa / da Daa da Daa and I'm feeling the childlike joy expecting Sargeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band to follow through with Yellow Submarine. But wait, before I start getting too wild in my crib, I need to settle the difference in meaning between those two lines. It tickles me that all that difference refuses to show me any distance for my thoughts. I want to giggle with the sheer frustration of finding no difference in the lines of such an astute poet.

In truth, I feel I have lived a cloistered life and don't understand the nimble minds jostling all about with familiar ease in what for me is an esoteric culture. I'm stupid, to be sure, I feel it in the end when no signs come to me. To old to go back to school and learn these things they know, I must slip into my sea of insecurity and hope someone explains the difference in this thread. Then I too can be clever,

Then RainMan says: "i would have stopped after the second line, which is just a pointless rewording of the first." and I feel more stupid than ever. Why didn't I realize that this is just a stupid jumble of words and that there is no difference between the first two lines


Who say I take my way
Me to myself too far
What about "I'm eccentric": There are those / who say I'm eccentric

And so too true too
As I skip rope rote
As you What? Oh Kay now, I'm back in stupid mode. Lets try again:
There are those / who say I'm eccentric /also true / as I twist the jump-rope with undisciplined glee /

(On a roll here. Quick we need more lines.)
I might a might too playful
As in a play a pen I might
Shaking out all old shadows
All in all in all in night
So as the beat drop drips
Honey’d words from high
I see my stars as satilites
Lending leading light to sky
One compelled one once complained
Of cranky crunky crickets caged
Trick trapping flap flying tongues
Loosened leather stories of old shoes
Wagging left right left right left right
(Thank you. Shall we take it from the top again)
There are those / who say I'm eccentric /also true / as I twist the jump-rope with undisciplined glee / Maybe I'm a mite too undisciplined / as I wake the other kids in the playpen / flashing light in their shadowed eyes / then when things calm down again / Some dishonest-voiced manipulation drifts down from on high / and while everyone's distinguishing Sputnik from the Stars, / someone else has let all the crickets out / and there is pointing and a wagging of fingers / particularly, the story-teller is wagging his tongue at his victims:

The miller grinds his work day out
The thresher so too sways
We’ve lost our rhythm for simple things
With firm fermentation of our days
Right! As some people have already pointed out this part exudes the richness of unrealized potential and may one day declare its independance and go off and father a full-fledged poem. To continue with the narrative:
Two dudes, emblematic of the rest of us, work hard all day / and don't have enough days off in the year to dream besides a stream / because the ruling elite has re-engineered us for service to the machine.


Roll it up and roll it down
Sycophant afoot a fuss
Back to back and back again
The use of useless tasks
Will it ever never end
Clock theory takes us
To the top of the riff
We relieve our moment
As addict repeats and repeats
Those precious pieces of yesterday
Which caught the tomorrow we dreamed
If we put them end to end to end
I wouldn’t be a bit surpirsed
Hoping for a next right time
Use your mentality
Wake up to reality
I’ve tried so something or other
And then again I do
This final section shows the obsessiveness of the ideologue endlessly repeating the same old trite phrases over and over, The words may change but the point is hammered in until your head rings like a bell that has been struck again and again with a mallet/with a mallet. To continue the saga:
Ours is not to question why / Ours is but to do or die / over and over and over again / and unless you wake up [has anyone thought of an alarm clock] you will go on sleeping

******************************************************
So this is the final outcome of my trying to understand:
There are those
who say I'm eccentric
also true
as I twist the jump-rope with undisciplined glee.
Maybe I'm a mite too undisciplined
as I wake the other kids in the playpen
flashing light in their shadowed eyes
then when things calm down again
Some dishonest-voiced manipulation drifts down from on high
and while everyone's distinguishing Sputnik from the Stars,
someone else has let all the crickets out
and there is pointing and a wagging of fingers
particularly, the story-teller is wagging his tongue at his victims


Two dudes, emblematic of the rest of us,
work hard all day
and don't have enough days off in the year to dream besides a stream
because the ruling elite has re-engineered us for service to the machine.


Ours is not to question why
Ours is but to do or die
over and
over and
over again
unless you wake up
you will go on sleeping



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


Having wandered this far, I wonder what possessed me to give up the comfort of my bed to come here and write this. My personal opinion presented as fair comment is that this is not poetry. It may very well be a useful type of exercise for poets in training to increase their understanding of the interplay of meaning and structure. Though this is a particularly clever demonstration of wordplay that is better than anything I'm ever going to have the time to produce, it will take a great deal of regurgitation to turn it into a poem.

Frankly, why waste your time improving this? Just start something new.