cooments/help welcomed

[butters]

lmao - yeah, that'll be comments, not cooments




all the dead men's


names roll over
flanked by concrete
panels in a row
shoulder to shouder
under a blank sky
heat on the offensive

names roll-called
captured by a
slim black barrel
and relayed in codes
front-line technology
piercing the shroud

names roll out
ricochet from the mystery
are sent back home
to find their targets
to wound the wounded
no body-bags required


*

{Basra - April 30th 2009
Iraq War Memorial}

 

[Epmd607]

Of the poems you linked on the other thread, my favorites were:

"to speak of berries
crushed between fingers
squeezing out the juice of her
that ripe must
that hedonistic lust
topped only by her cries of cream"

reminds me of the kind of poems my wife writes.


"a smile curves behind my eyes
but conscience warns
be polite, be polite"

you have additional lines after which I think take away from the epigram. But it could also be the beginning or end of a longer poem.


"it was never my intention
to ride roughshod
never my intention
to burn
forget to think
before I 'spoke' -
your pain
a lesson learned"

good simple rhyme burn/learned, very clear and concise.

 

[Epmd607]

names roll over
flanked by concrete
panels in a row
shoulder to shouder
under a blank sky
heat on the offensive

names roll-called
captured by a
slim black barrel
and relayed in codes
front-line technology
piercing the shroud

names roll out
ricochet from the mystery
are sent back home
to find their targets
to wound the wounded
no body-bags required


*

{Basra - April 30th 2009
Iraq War Memorial}

This poem unlike some of the others you've posted seems finished. However, I don't exactly take anything away from it. I don't feel or understand its nature as a memorial. The way I read the poem is: Soldiers standing in formation, the day's casualties being transmitted, the relatives of the deceased being contacted. Is this a fair assessment of the content?

Having served in Iraq, dealing with each stage of a casualty, and having actually been in Basra with the British training combat life savers to deal with said casualties -- I don't feel a familiarity with the sequence of events as described in your poem. I usually read war poems extra carefully, and expect fresh emotive images to cast light on the pointlessness and ceaselessness of war.

Roll call, black barrel, codes, body-bags, front-line and all that are too plain. They evoke war, but not in an original way. In the poems of yours that I've read, it seems like you'll go to the edge of meaning but won't step over into the surreal. I the like poems that are clear and concise that I've read from you, some of the others I think you should embrace the surreal image, likeness. For the poem above I'd advise venturing into the surreal to get out of the targets/wounds/body bags simplicity. Anyway, I like your poems and haven't really seen anyone else posting anything as interesting to read. Regards.

 

[butters]

This poem unlike some of the others you've posted seems finished. However, I don't exactly take anything away from it. I don't feel or understand its nature as a memorial. The way I read the poem is: Soldiers standing in formation, the day's casualties being transmitted, the relatives of the deceased being contacted. Is this a fair assessment of the content?

Having served in Iraq, dealing with each stage of a casualty, and having actually been in Basra with the British training combat life savers to deal with said casualties -- I don't feel a familiarity with the sequence of events as described in your poem. I usually read war poems extra carefully, and expect fresh emotive images to cast light on the pointlessness and ceaselessness of war.

Roll call, black barrel, codes, body-bags, front-line and all that are too plain. They evoke war, but not in an original way. In the poems of yours that I've read, it seems like you'll go to the edge of meaning but won't step over into the surreal. I the like poems that are clear and concise that I've read from you, some of the others I think you should embrace the surreal image, likeness. For the poem above I'd advise venturing into the surreal to get out of the targets/wounds/body bags simplicity. Anyway, I like your poems and haven't really seen anyone else posting anything as interesting to read. Regards.

It's as finished as I could get to it, but I'm sure it could stand more buffing. Something's not reaching me either about it - more a cerebral write than something more visceral, though again that as deliberate to try and reflect the ceremonial rather than the 'midst of the fray' effect. It's a fair assessment except that this was about the actual Memorial Service relayed by satellite on April 30th this year. This write was after they aired it from Basra, the living standing under the burning heat, the concrete panels 'shoulder to shoulder', the list of names seemingly endless as first one soldier then another stepped forward to the single black slim microphone. It was my perspective as a viewer, and the thoughts of how those names rolling out into the ether to be transmitted back to family and friends of the dead ... how those would wound them again. I really know very little modern about warfare except what we hear on the news and was trying to use the familiar imagery as metaphors in places (like the slim black barrel).

It's really interesting to hear about the other way to go about this write. I might try it but truly doubt my competence. Thanks a lot for reading and taking the time to offer me a considered reply. It IS appreciated.

 

[butters]

Of the poems you linked on the other thread, my favorites were:

"to speak of berries
crushed between fingers
squeezing out the juice of her
that ripe must
that hedonistic lust
topped only by her cries of cream"

reminds me of the kind of poems my wife writes.


"a smile curves behind my eyes
but conscience warns
be polite, be polite"

you have additional lines after which I think take away from the epigram. But it could also be the beginning or end of a longer poem.


"it was never my intention
to ride roughshod
never my intention
to burn
forget to think
before I 'spoke' -
your pain
a lesson learned"

good simple rhyme burn/learned, very clear and concise.

and thanks for responding to these too. that last was just a small and immediate sorry note to a poet here whose feelings I think I unintentionally bruised.

does your wife post anything here? it'd be cool to read her poetry too.

 

[Epmd607]

and thanks for responding to these too. that last was just a small and immediate sorry note to a poet here whose feelings I think I unintentionally bruised.

does your wife post anything here? it'd be cool to read her poetry too.

She's a doctoral student in English. Posting her work to a message board, a porno one at that, is sacrilege. I, on the other hand, don't care who reads my poems as long as they are read.

I write a lot of apology poems... It's one of my favorite genres.

 

[AoNoDoY]

lmao - yeah, that'll be comments, not cooments




all the dead men's


names roll over
flanked by concrete
panels in a row
shoulder to shouder
under a blank sky
heat on the offensive

names roll-called
captured by a
slim black barrel
and relayed in codes
front-line technology
piercing the shroud

names roll out
ricochet from the mystery
are sent back home
to find their targets
to wound the wounded
no body-bags required


*

{Basra - April 30th 2009
Iraq War Memorial}

I guess with the mention of concrete in the second line and the mention of memorial in the end, I was thinking it was a physical memorial, like statues or something.

I guess if it were me, just to experiment, I'd try leaving more of the perspective from your living room... writing from the perspective of a person in the living room watching on tv. But then again, I write everything very personally, I can understand wanting to keep the subject at arm's length and leaving the "I" out of it.

It's as finished as I could get to it, but I'm sure it could stand more buffing. Something's not reaching me either about it - more a cerebral write than something more visceral, though again that as deliberate to try and reflect the ceremonial rather than the 'midt of the fray' effect. It's a fair assessment except that this was about the actual Memorial Service relayed by satellite on April 30th this year. This write was after they aired it from Basra, the living standing under the burning heat, the concrete panels 'shoulder to shoulder', the list of names seemingly endless as first one soldier then another stepped forward to the single black slim microphone. It was my perspective as a viewer, and the thoughts of how those names rolling out into the ether to be transmitted back to family and friends of the dead ... how those would wound them again. I really know very little modern about warfare except what we hear on the news and was trying to use the familiar imagery as metaphors in places (like the slim black barrel).

It's really interesting to hear about the other way to go about this write. I might try it but truly doubt my competence. Thanks a lot for reading and taking the time to offer me a considered reply. It IS apprecaited.

I like how you draw the picture in this post, I see what you're talking about better, here. Especially the long list of names, I think that could be a powerful image, like an auditory image, but it would have to spelled out very simply for dunces like me

I remember when the evening news started reading the list of dead at the end of the newscast. For better or for worse, I don't know if that is a real accessible memory or image for people in general, you know? I didn't see the memorial your poem is about, never even knew it happened, but maybe that's just me, I don't know a lot of what is going on out there.

Reading the third stanza after having done some more thinking on this, I think that third stanza is really great. You know, I think this poem is very dense. It could just be me as a reader not picking up everything right away. My friend writes poems that I have to actually write about and deal with for awhile before I make any sense of them. Do you think of the poem in this way? Or would you pick up a poem like this and fall into the imagery right away? The reason I ask is that I have been paranoid about some oddities in my reading abilities since fifth grade.

Final analysis, it's a nice poem, it is dense. It took me quite a bit of time and the other post you made to really sink into it. Maybe because I had a converstation about a brick-and-mortar memorial earlier. I think it is worth the effort. It would be sad to hear the name of a deceased loved one.

 

[butters]

I guess with the mention of concrete in the second line and the mention of memorial in the end, I was thinking it was a physical memorial, like statues or something.

Although the concrete referred to the panels behind the soldiers, it was their stiffness, their solidity, and their aspect of standing next to eachother in a line so orderly that made its impression on my thoughts as I watched. They reminded me of the soldiers in a row, their attributes. Everything so neat and proper and stiff. This was no place for tears.

I guess if it were me, just to experiment, I'd try leaving more of the perspective from your living room... writing from the perspective of a person in the living room watching on tv. But then again, I write everything very personally, I can understand wanting to keep the subject at arm's length and leaving the "I" out of it.

Maybe this is where I'm having the problem. I write almost everything from quite a personal or emotional aspect and this was definitely an arms length piece since it felt arms length. If that makes sense. It was an utterly impersonal affair commemorating deeply personal events.

I like how you draw the picture in this post, I see what you're talking about better, here. Especially the long list of names, I think that could be a powerful image, like an auditory image, but it would have to spelled out very simply for dunces like me

don't be daft. We each bring different experiences to a work we read. If I'd not witnessed the ceremony, the blank and distant skies, the way the flat hard heat bore down on everyone ... if I'd not seen that myself, then my poem might not make much sense to me either I suppose It's all very well to write what I saw, but if I'm posting it for others to read then my job as a writer is to try and make sure they see it too. One way around it might be to post it beneath a picture of the event. I see your paragraph underneath addresses this lack of visuals too. It feels a bit of a cheat to do that but I really don't know how to progress further with this write, so that's why I posted it here.

I remember when the evening news started reading the list of dead at the end of the newscast. For better or for worse, I don't know if that is a real accessible memory or image for people in general, you know? I didn't see the memorial your poem is about, never even knew it happened, but maybe that's just me, I don't know a lot of what is going on out there.

No, not just you

Reading the third stanza after having done some more thinking on this, I think that third stanza is really great. You know, I think this poem is very dense. It could just be me as a reader not picking up everything right away. My friend writes poems that I have to actually write about and deal with for awhile before I make any sense of them. Do you think of the poem in this way? Or would you pick up a poem like this and fall into the imagery right away? The reason I ask is that I have been paranoid about some oddities in my reading abilities since fifth grade.

The very fact that you take the time to consider a poem, to give it time to percolate through and allow the images and concepts filter down till you 'get it' speaks volumes for your patience and willingness to meet the poet at least half-way. That's quite rare, actually, and doesn't label you anything other than 'considerate'. Yes, I frequently have to read a poem over and over for its full flavour to reach me. Some pieces are far moe subtle than others. Some will be popping with bright imagery that tell the whole story at surface level, with little else going on - and these CAN be fine poems in their own right. Others, like those written by Sean Nelson that I reviewed yesterday, are deceptively bland on the surface; read them again, and then again, and you start to hear all the complexities they contain, single words that carry such a wealth of history, the reason why the rhythm-pattern was used where it seemed icongruous at first, and so on. I think if you are so willing to take the time to try and understand a poem, then you are a godsend to the poets. Just don't fall ito the trap of thinking that if you don't 'get it' it must be failing of yours somewhere. SOMETIMES a poem just sucks.

Final analysis, it's a nice poem, it is dense. It took me quite a bit of time and the other post you made to really sink into it. Maybe because I had a converstation about a brick-and-mortar memorial earlier. I think it is worth the effort. It would be sad to hear the name of a deceased loved one.

I have to tell you I truly appreciate you giving my piece such time. I'm glad you found it 'dense', since I'd hoped to reflect that kind of heavy feeling so pervasive in everything I saw from the heat to the flattened light, to almost oppressive monotones of the voices as names were sent off into the ether. As solemn as concrete. Thankyou