Fire at Will

[BlackShanglan]

This cloak, cast off
Now that you have had all the good of it,
Once was yours –
Now is mine.

Perhaps its rents and patches,
Torn lines and raveled seams,
Have grown too clear to your eyes.

They were always plain to me,
And yet I thought it a thing worth having.
But what foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
And now it cannot comfort me.

 

[BooMerengue]

This cloak, cast off
Now that you have had all the good of it,
Once was yours –
Now is mine.

Perhaps its rents and patches,
Torn lines and raveled seams,
Have grown too clear to your eyes.

They were always plain to me,
And yet I thought it a thing worth having.
But what foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
And now it cannot comfort me.

Keep going... it's lovely, but I need to hear more.

 

[BlackShanglan]

Edited. Sorry, Boo - I ended up saying less rather than more.

.

This cloak, cast off
Now that you have had all the good of it,
Once was yours –
Now is mine.

Perhaps its rents and patches
Have grown too clear to you.
Yet they were always plain to me,
And I thought it a thing worth having.

What foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
Yet it cannot comfort me.

 

[minsue]

Edited. Sorry, Boo - I ended up saying less rather than more.

.

This cloak, cast off
Now that you have had all the good of it,
Once was yours –
Now is mine.

Perhaps its rents and patches
Have grown too clear to you.
Yet they were always plain to me,
And I thought it a thing worth having.

What foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
Yet it cannot comfort me.

Less may be more. It's even more moving now than it was in it's first rendition.

 

[champagne1982]

Edited. Sorry, Boo - I ended up saying less rather than more.

.

This cloak, cast off
Now that you have had all the good of it,
Once was yours –
Now is mine.

Perhaps its rents and patches
Have grown too clear to you.
Yet they were always plain to me,
And I thought it a thing worth having.

What foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
Yet it cannot comfort me.

Hello. If I may be so bold...

I can feel the raw emotion expressed in this poem. It is good. With a couple of changes I know you could make it stronger and easier to fit into my understanding.

Please don't be offended by my thoughts. These are merely suggestions, to be accepted or discarded, as you see fit.

The 3rd line in the second verse is slightly off for me, or maybe it is only so when against the 4th. With thought on the reader's part, meaning comes clear but I think you could make it easier to grasp why the cloak was worth having by finding an adjective more indicative of meaning than 'plain'...

I understand the cloak is a plain cloak, unadorned and everyday...
I realize that the flaws are plain to see, each one clear and bold...
it's plain to me. I think you're saying that even though it's a worn thing you still see its value.

Maybe if you change the verb tense in the last line so that it reads
"And I think it a thing worth having" the flow of words will be smoother. At least to my mind it would be, such as my mind is.

The last verse is a little cryptic in my opinion. The negative "It cannot" - doesn't fit with your desire for the cloak. Or maybe I'm missing the point. It's a gorgeous phrase, but don't be so in love with it that you use it regardless of its ability to make sense within the poem.

It's a very good poem. A lovely metaphor showing the sadness of an ending. Thanks for sharing.

 

[BooMerengue]

I love it, too. But I'm not a good enough grammarian OR poet to make those kind of suggestions. I just wonder. I've read a lot of your work, Shang, and you already know I love it. Is this cloak a fellow soldiers, perhaps? Or a woman you loved and lost? Or perhaps your fathers? I can see it through the mists that you write so well, but I can't see the owner...

 

[CharleyH]

This cloak, cast off
Now that you have had all the good of it,
Once was yours –
Now is mine.

Perhaps its rents and patches,
Torn lines and raveled seams,
Have grown too clear to your eyes.

They were always plain to me,
And yet I thought it a thing worth having.
But what foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
And now it cannot comfort me.

Once was yours now is mine is cliche' no offence, I hold you to point of HORSE GOD, but it is cliche' to me, I have heard this phrase many times.

I love the imagery of cloak, it gives mystery and takes me, I think to a different time, since the now is full of jackets. On the other hand, as I read second stanza, I feel you use cloak in a past way of wealth, that one has, and second stanza does not have the cloak of wealth.

They are poor. One has given up wealth to poverty.

BUT, what is plain to you, poverty? And is that worth having . . . you must explain why . . . I feel a contradiction that you as poet/ 1st person, don't care, however the one you speak of does, and last stanza contradicts it? "It was plain to me . . . you no longer want? what? poverty?

My take, my reading only from first post, I have not read second. Love the words. rhythm. I am more . . . me Metaphor.

 

[foehn]

critique

Edited. Sorry, Boo - I ended up saying less rather than more.

.

This cloak, cast off
Now that you have had all the good of it,
Once was yours –
Now is mine.

Perhaps its rents and patches
Have grown too clear to you.
Yet they were always plain to me,
And I thought it a thing worth having.

What foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
Yet it cannot comfort me.

The two first words indicate an item that is *present* - a cloak. A cloak is not a common garment where I am from, and I'm given to wonder if a cloak is a common garment anywhere, really. In that sense, it immediately becomes a metaphor ... for something.

What if we try, "love"? No love is ever perfect, and ordinarily, a "true" love will overlook "rents" (ripped portions) and "patches" (smoothed-over rough spots?) ... but such imperfections can begin to weigh on someone who is a "purist." "A thing worth having..." better than the alternative, not having it.

If it is a metaphor, then it works on an extremely extended and consistent level:

"What foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
Yet it cannot comfort me.

It's been "cast off" by the one to whom it belonged, yet the narrator keeps it -- seemingly because of the person it belonged to -- and yet, despite having seemed "a thing worth keeping," it yields no comfort.

So why hold onto it? It *does* seem like foolishness. About the only thing that holds a chance of explaining it to me would be the attendant emotion, emotions often being about that "foolish."

I don't have any idea, really, if I'm reading things into this or out of it. However, considering what I'm easily *able* to read into it, discussions about mechanics and word choice, to me, just fall on deaf ears. Given what I extract from it, on a cursory reading only, it was written in about the only way it could have been written.

*** a point about "clichés" *** For me, in poetry, a cliché is not just a well-worn phrase. I have heard and read, "You sat at the table," many times, but it's not a cliché. In poetry, especially, I only relegate phrases to that category that aim for a particular heightening of linguistic effect, and fail because the same effect has been so over-used in the past: "rose-red lips," for example.

/f

edited to correct a typo

 

[BlackShanglan]

Hello. If I may be so bold...

I can feel the raw emotion expressed in this poem. It is good. With a couple of changes I know you could make it stronger and easier to fit into my understanding.

Please don't be offended by my thoughts. These are merely suggestions, to be accepted or discarded, as you see fit.

The 3rd line in the second verse is slightly off for me, or maybe it is only so when against the 4th. With thought on the reader's part, meaning comes clear but I think you could make it easier to grasp why the cloak was worth having by finding an adjective more indicative of meaning than 'plain'...

I understand the cloak is a plain cloak, unadorned and everyday...
I realize that the flaws are plain to see, each one clear and bold...
it's plain to me. I think you're saying that even though it's a worn thing you still see its value.

Maybe if you change the verb tense in the last line so that it reads
"And I think it a thing worth having" the flow of words will be smoother. At least to my mind it would be, such as my mind is.

The last verse is a little cryptic in my opinion. The negative "It cannot" - doesn't fit with your desire for the cloak. Or maybe I'm missing the point. It's a gorgeous phrase, but don't be so in love with it that you use it regardless of its ability to make sense within the poem.

It's a very good poem. A lovely metaphor showing the sadness of an ending. Thanks for sharing.

Not in the least offended, champagne. In fact I'm quite grateful for a very helpful analysis with fine attention to detail. This was written quickly and without the lengthy revision I usually give things, so I know it's quite rough.

Rough enough, in fact, that the second meaning of "plain" totally slipped my mind (I was only thinking "clear") and obviously does skew that line into obscurity. What an awfully good point

Now that last line I knew was a clunker. Damnit! You wouldn't believe how many lines have been there. There has to be a more succint way to say "this was only worthwhile when you still wanted it, and now that you don't, it's no good to me either." Still working on it. But I agree, it's obscure. I posted it hoping someone would tell me it wasn't - how silly was that?

Shanglan

 

[BlackShanglan]

I love it, too. But I'm not a good enough grammarian OR poet to make those kind of suggestions. I just wonder. I've read a lot of your work, Shang, and you already know I love it. Is this cloak a fellow soldiers, perhaps? Or a woman you loved and lost? Or perhaps your fathers? I can see it through the mists that you write so well, but I can't see the owner...

Boo, many thanks. I think what I'm pondering now is whether the impulse itself should be a poem. That is ... I don't want to say who's being addressed. But what I'm seeing in your reaction is that it may not be possible to make the emotion comprehensible without a more concrete idea of who is being addressed, and what the circumstances are. Is that about right?

Mulling it over. In some ways I like all of your guesses, because the feeling is a little like each of them, and it's the feeling I wanted to get across rather than the particulars. On the other hand, there's no point writing to just piss people off Is it too annoying that you can't get a more specific grasp of what's going on?

Shanglan

 

[BlackShanglan]

Re: Re: Fire at Will

Once was yours now is mine is cliche' no offence, I hold you to point of HORSE GOD, but it is cliche' to me, I have heard this phrase many times.

Dear lord, Horse God is a great deal to live up to. I shall preen myself absurdly nonetheless.

Thanks for the pointer. For some reason I don't think I've heard that phrase as often, but if it's striking anyone that one, I do believe I had best rethink it. I hate to see all the meaning go out of my words because someone's used it up before me. Thanks, Charley!

I love the imagery of cloak, it gives mystery and takes me, I think to a different time, since the now is full of jackets. On the other hand, as I read second stanza, I feel you use cloak in a past way of wealth, that one has, and second stanza does not have the cloak of wealth.

They are poor. One has given up wealth to poverty.

BUT, what is plain to you, poverty? And is that worth having . . . you must explain why . . . I feel a contradiction that you as poet/ 1st person, don't care, however the one you speak of does, and last stanza contradicts it? "It was plain to me . . . you no longer want? what? poverty?

My take, my reading only from first post, I have not read second. Love the words. rhythm. I am more . . . me Metaphor.

You're giving me a lot to think about here. I'm wondering very much if "cloak" is the right word at all. Damn Yeats, it's his bloody coat that put it into my head, and now I'm wondering if it's too obscure a connection to make any sense to someone other than me. "Cloak" is a beautiful word in its sound, and I love the image - and that sense of richness vs. barreness or poverty is right, but on a more metaphorical level. But between your comments and Boo's, I'm wondering if I'm just being too obscure here - especially when, as champagne was good enough to show me, my control of image and diction is slippy around line 7.

Mulling. Mulling. But thank you so much for so many good and trenchant comments to mull!

Shanglan

 

[BlackShanglan]

Re: critique

The two first words indicate an item that is *present* - a cloak. A cloak is not a common garment where I am from, and I'm given to wonder if a cloak is a common garment anywhere, really. In that sense, it immediately becomes a metaphor ... for something.

What if we try, "love"? No love is ever perfect, and ordinarily, a "true" love will overlook "rents" (ripped portions) and "patches" (smooted-over rough spots?) ... but such imperfections can begin to weigh on someone who is a "purist." "A thing worth having..." better than the alternative, not having it.

If it is a metaphor, then it works on an extremely extended and consistent level:

"What foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
Yet it cannot comfort me.

It's been "cast off" by the one to whom it belonged, yet the narrator keeps it -- seemingly because of the person it belonged to -- and yet, despite having seemed "a thing worth keeping," it yields no comfort.

So why hold onto it? It *does* seem like foolishness. About the only thing that holds a chance of explaining it to me would be the attendant emotion, emotions often being about that "foolish."

I don't have any idea, really, if I'm reading things into this or out of it. However, considering what I'm easily *able* to read into it, discussions about mechanics and word choice, to me, just fall on deaf ears. Given what I extract from it, on a cursory reading only, it was written in about the only way it could have been written.

*** a point about "clichés" *** For me, in poetry, a cliché is not just a well-worn phrase. I have heard and read, "You sat at the table," many times, but it's not a cliché. In poetry, especially, I only relegate phrases to that category that aim for a particular heightening of linguistic effect, and fail because the same effect has been so over-used in the past: "rose-red lips," for example.

/f

I love and adore you.

Yes.

Shanglan

 

[BooMerengue]

Boo, many thanks. I think what I'm pondering now is whether the impulse itself should be a poem. That is ... I don't want to say who's being addressed. But what I'm seeing in your reaction is that it may not be possible to make the emotion comprehensible without a more concrete idea of who is being addressed, and what the circumstances are. Is that about right?

Mulling it over. In some ways I like all of your guesses, because the feeling is a little like each of them, and it's the feeling I wanted to get across rather than the particulars. On the other hand, there's no point writing to just piss people off Is it too annoying that you can't get a more specific grasp of what's going on?

Shanglan

Absolutely not, Shang! Now it becomes like certain paintings. Everytime I look at it I will see something different, and I think thats better than having it spelled out. Knowing what I do of some of your other works I can't help but think of ancient battlefields, taboo relationships, and/or a love worthy of a Goddess. Leave it, as far as I'm concerned. It's beautiful. But someday if you get bored maybe well see a second verse? Or maybe we'll see this verse woven into a story?

 

[champagne1982]

What foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
Yet it cannot comfort me.

Suggestion:

What foolishness this -
It will not comfort me
When you deny its worth.

After your explanation of what you were trying to say, you could try a flip flop of the last line as in my suggestion.

I hope that is helpful, rather than tossing another handful of silt into your murky waters.

 

[foehn]

What foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
Yet it cannot comfort me.

Suggestion:

What foolishness this -
It will not comfort me
When you deny its worth.

After your explanation of what you were trying to say, you could try a flip flop of the last line as in my suggestion.

I hope that is helpful, rather than tossing another handful of silt into your murky waters.

The suggestion would totallly change the meaning of the poem for me. "When" puts a condition on the status of the cloak's worth that is not in the original.

It's my impression that the original owner of the "cloak" is in a state of irremediable denial of its worth. The suggested change also sucks away the powerful irony of the last line quoted.

I do understand that everything's on the table, but in my opinion, it's difficult to go fiddling with the lines in a poem this tight without writing, even though inadvertently, a completely new poem.

 

[BlackShanglan]

Champagne, thank you very much for the suggestion. I do like that, as foehn says, everything is on the table, and I've copied over your suggestion to ponder it.

The one thing I will say is that foehn's comment about the "when" struck me as well, before I read his response. It made the poem feel more to me as if the change was presumed to be reversable. But that may just tell me that foehn and I seem to be in psychic communication, as he's been eerily dead-on to all my own thoughts and meanings.

I can see that I am communicating well with my "ideal reader" - now I'm trying to figure out how to make this speak to those not blessed with a mind link to the author. Thanks very much for the ideas!

Shanglan

 

[BooMerengue]

Shang? I'm just curious- why do you feel this piece needs to be changed? Are you writing it for just you? The readers here? The general public? Will it, in fact,(I hope) be going into a larger piece of work? What are YOU looking for here?

Like I said, I like it as is... it's words that make my mind lead to more words, ideas, imagination etc. Isn't that enough? It's very indefiniteness is what makes it so wonderful. Like the Mona Lisa.

I read lots of poetry and sometimes I have no clue what the writer intended to say. Is that my bad, or theirs? Or is it even a bad? Sometimes I have no clue but I still love it, because of where it takes me.

Why can't you just leave it alone?

(and I don't mean that as 'enough, already'...lol I just wonder what you're striving for here)

 

[Liar]

I have to agree with Boo there. I was going to put my 2c into this thread a while back but at this stage, I have nothing specific to contribute.

If you are trying to in some way rewrite and perfect this piece of poetry, then keep at it. Personally I don't think the particular metaphors and chichés or non-clichés are what I'd look over, but the rhythm of the sentence structure here and there, that makes it a little awkward, too conversational for the gist of the poem. (I'm referring to your first version there).

If you want to improve your poetry writing skills in general, I suggest you let this drop and jump onto the next poem. Take what you've learned from here and apply it on something from scratch. There is only so much you can do about a particular piece of work before you either need to uproot the base structure of it, or stop [insert horse flogging reference of your choice here ]

Personally, I'd like to see more poems. Take a dive in the deep end of the All Of A Sudden-thread and see what happens.

#L

 

[BlackShanglan]

[insert horse flogging reference of your choice here ]

Mmm. Please

I think I'm trying to work on lyrical focus. That is, I'm trying to get better at conveying an emotion with clarity and brevity. I have other poems I'm tinkering on that are longer and more narrative in nature. With this one, I'm trying to shake that a little and try something of a different sort.

I think my main goal is to see what works and what doesn't in conveying that sort of emotional snapshot to an audience. Hence, I'm tinkering to learn more about the form and the compression needed to make it work.

Rewriting, to me, is largely how I learn more about writing - seeing how each successive version approximates my goals. But that's a great deal harder in poetry than in prose, in many ways.

I'm also trying to hash out for myself what makes a good poem. That is ... I have at least one poem I eventually trashed because I felt that the impulse or observation itself was, in the end, not good enough to really bear the weight of verse. I'm pondering that with this poem as well - where do "what's important to me" and "what's worth communicating to someone else" overlap?

You've all been wonderfully helpful on all of those.

Shanglan

 

[foehn]

questions

... I'm also trying to hash out for myself what makes a good poem. That is ... I have at least one poem I eventually trashed because I felt that the impulse or observation itself was, in the end, not good enough to really bear the weight of verse. I'm pondering that with this poem as well - where do "what's important to me" and "what's worth communicating to someone else" overlap? ...

Wow, what nifty questions. These are the sorts of things a human being (a.k.a. "poet") struggles with at 2:30 a.m., all the lights out, still unable to sleep.

I may have an unusual "take" on the first of these questions. Okay, it wasn't really a question, but I felt it was implied. When an impulse or observation seems too light to bear the "weight of verse," then perhaps the functions are being confused. I honestly don't believe it's the job of the insight, the thought, to carry the verse... but, rather, that it's the job of the verse to carry the thought in the most appropriate manner, in the most appropriate package. "Verse" -- (and I sense here, you really mean "poetry") -- may be fashioned of balsa wood or granite. It can float a light thought across a vast ocean, or transport an incredibly dense observation over the infinite expanse of a micron in incremental stages.

I'd hope to never be accused of advocating any "school" of poetry; just a pseudonym or euphemism for style, actually. Reason for that is, I think in order for a poet to reach her potential, she must use everything that she knows, conscious and unconscious, learned and as yet unlearned.

I seem to be able to tell in an instant, most of the time, whether a "poem" springs from genuine feeling or a mentally-manufactured and spuriously summoned raison de' entre. It can be a subtle difference, somewhat like discerning the sobbings of an angry child from those of a disconsolate one. But there's usually a grain of genuine-ness that stands out for me. Usually.

A magnificent poem comes, I believe, from a great deal of internalized learned knowledge about poetry and poetics, none of which may be actually thought of, consciously, during the writing of the poem. By the same token, however, it may also incorporate figures of speech and linguistic devices that have not yet been classified or studied. And it does all this, while at the same time avoiding being a cheap copy of somebody else's copy of a copy. It neither insults nor falsely elevates the presumed reader's ability to understand, to fathom the depths of meaning.

It *is* a delicate proposition... the odd balance between saying exactly what you always knew you wanted to say... and making it as available as possible to the widest audience or readership. In the end, though, a successful poem, to me, is one that deeply touches at least one other listener or reader, and the author of the poem.

In my more lucid moments, I think that as poets, we are often succeeding when we actually think we're failing.

/f

 

[champagne1982]

<snip>
I'm also trying to hash out for myself what makes a good poem. <snip>

Shanglan

This reminds me of a poem:

What is poetry?

There is poetry in joy,
even in sadness,
with a melancholy overlay
like black lace.

I have heard poetry.
Found it in a bird's song,
listened to a lover's sigh
and sussurant surf.

Poetry's when your heart
grabs you in a spinning whirl,
like a Dervish dance,
sending prayers to God.

But mostly, poetry is a conversation
you have with the world
when you need to talk
to someone.

Originally posted by foehn
The suggestion would totallly change the meaning of the poem for me. "When" puts a condition on the status of the cloak's worth that is not in the original.

It's my impression that the original owner of the "cloak" is in a state of irremediable denial of its worth. The suggested change also sucks away the powerful irony of the last line quoted.

I do understand that everything's on the table, but in my opinion, it's difficult to go fiddling with the lines in a poem this tight without writing, even though inadvertently, a completely new poem.

Ahhh, the difference between you and I, foehn, is that we see this entire concept differently. Whereas, (you can correct me if I'm wrong, here) you consider it presumptuous to change the wording of a poem, if you're not the poet creator, I think it's a little uppity to imagine that the reader's favourite image is the one the poet wanted to convey.

Don't misunderstand me, I'm not trying to offend anyone, I'm just trying to defend the making of what I thought was a simple suggestion. Shanglan, in his invitation in the Title of this thread, asks us to fire away, well my shot was a single tracer bullet, fired merely for range and sighting; not to kill or maim. A small suggestion; to embrace, like the gift of a well-loved garment or to cast off, like a used up cloak.

When I re-wrote the words to illustrate my suggestion, I did so in the hopes that I wouldn't influence the final version of those lines. My voice is not the voice of Shanglan. I lack the timbre, I suspect. If he chooses to use anything I've talked about in my replies here, I'll be pleased. And if he doesn't, I'm glad to have made his acquaintance and to have touched his mind however briefly, in the context of the analysis of his words.

Shanglan,

It is a pleasure to have had this brief conversation here. You have wit, grace and style. I hope to see more, sir. Thank you.

 

[twelveoone]

Re: questions

Wow, what nifty questions. These are the sorts of things a human being (a.k.a. "poet") struggles with at 2:30 a.m., all the lights out, still unable to sleep.

I may have an unusual "take" on the first of these questions. Okay, it wasn't really a question, but I felt it was implied. When an impulse or observation seems too light to bear the "weight of verse," then perhaps the functions are being confused. I honestly don't believe it's the job of the insight, the thought, to carry the verse... but, rather, that it's the job of the verse to carry the thought in the most appropriate manner, in the most appropriate package. "Verse" -- (and I sense here, you really mean "poetry") -- may be fashioned of balsa wood or granite. It can float a light thought across a vast ocean, or transport an incredibly dense observation over the infinite expanse of a micron in incremental stages.

I'd hope to never be accused of advocating any "school" of poetry; just a pseudonym or euphemism for style, actually. Reason for that is, I think in order for a poet to reach her potential, she must use everything that she knows, conscious and unconscious, learned and as yet unlearned.

I seem to be able to tell in an instant, most of the time, whether a "poem" springs from genuine feeling or a mentally-manufactured and spuriously summoned raison de' entre. It can be a subtle difference, somewhat like discerning the sobbings of an angry child from those of a disconsolate one. But there's usually a grain of genuine-ness that stands out for me. Usually.

A magnificent poem comes, I believe, from a great deal of internalized learned knowledge about poetry and poetics, none of which may be actually thought of, consciously, during the writing of the poem. By the same token, however, it may also incorporate figures of speech and linguistic devices that have not yet been classified or studied. And it does all this, while at the same time avoiding being a cheap copy of somebody else's copy of a copy. It neither insults nor falsely elevates the presumed reader's ability to understand, to fathom the depths of meaning.

It *is* a delicate proposition... the odd balance between saying exactly what you always knew you wanted to say... and making it as available as possible to the widest audience or readership. In the end, though, a successful poem, to me, is one that deeply touches at least one other listener or reader, and the author of the poem.

In my more lucid moments, I think that as poets, we are often succeeding when we actually think we're failing.

/f

foehn I just liked what you said, thought I'd bold it, no real reason.

BlackShanglan, I hope you noted I commented. As best as I can tell, Boo, minsue, and foehn have pretty much said leave it pretty much alone, or close to it. I read this like it was almost an English translation of something either Japanese or Chinese, simple and subtle. It almost has a feeling of "mono no aware" or Zen sensibility. I like this progressive devalution of the only material thing here matches the attitude.
"This cloak"
"a thing"- here is where the feeling becomes ambivalent, it also becomes a thing of the mind, not knowing what to make of it
"it" - its defined as a weight.

This cloak, cast off
Now that you have had all the good of it,
Once was yours –
Now is mine.

Perhaps its rents and patches
Have grown too clear to you.
Yet they were always plain to me,
And I thought it a thing worth having.

What foolishness this –
You want it no longer,
Yet it cannot comfort me.

Everything can be improved, I'd be very careful about touching it.
"making it as available as possible to the widest audience or readership. In the end, though, a successful poem, "
Boo, minsue, and foehn, now I; I would think that may be pretty wide.
Right?

 

[BlackShanglan]

God, I've missed this sort of conversation. I must say just how delightful it has been to meet all of you. (And how especially lovely to see those I knew already in a new light).

Champagne, I took your thoughts just as you intended - and I think foehn's as well. They are each the more valuable to me for the presence of the other. They offer a challenging intellectual tension that helps me consider more carefully what I wish to achieve and to ponder what I need to do in order to achieve it. I think, really, the first question has been the most valuable, and very interesting to me. Twelveoone's comments have added to that as well, and I would not wish it any other way. Having to weigh differing ideas and hear advocates of varying paths really brings a fascinating level of analysis to this. You've all been exceedingly kind to give my little scrawl such generous attention.

Foehn, your comments touched on just the problem with the poem I gave up. It's not that the thought was heavy or light - it's that it was false. I was trying too hard to be clever and philosophical, and it just rang damned false however I framed it. Eventually I re-thought the action and event I was describing and realized that I didn't really feel that way and probably never did. I just thought it was a clever-sounding reaction to a commonplace event. It embarasses me to admit this, but I mention it because you touched it so nicely in your own response. It's sincerity that has to be there, however small or large the topic. Better an honest poem about a tiny matter than inflated pomposity on any topic whatsoever.

Twelveoone, a last thanks - I had not realized what you point out now, and which I like very much, the issue of progressive devaluation. This is one of those moments where one can only stand back and watch the text and the reader bring the best out of each other. I wish I could hope that on some unconscious level I sensed that and made it that way; I can only say that you have now made it so for me, and I like the poem the better for it.

Many thanks all.

Shanglan

 

[twelveoone]

God, I've missed this sort of conversation. I must say just how delightful it has been to meet all of you. (And how especially lovely to see those I knew already in a new light).

Champagne, I took your thoughts just as you intended - and I think foehn's as well. They are each the more valuable to me for the presence of the other. They offer a challenging intellectual tension that helps me consider more carefully what I wish to achieve and to ponder what I need to do in order to achieve it. I think, really, the first question has been the most valuable, and very interesting to me. Twelveoone's comments have added to that as well, and I would not wish it any other way. Having to weigh differing ideas and hear advocates of varying paths really brings a fascinating level of analysis to this. You've all been exceedingly kind to give my little scrawl such generous attention.

Foehn, your comments touched on just the problem with the poem I gave up. It's not that the thought was heavy or light - it's that it was false. I was trying too hard to be clever and philosophical, and it just rang damned false however I framed it. Eventually I re-thought the action and event I was describing and realized that I didn't really feel that way and probably never did. I just thought it was a clever-sounding reaction to a commonplace event. It embarasses me to admit this, but I mention it because you touched it so nicely in your own response. It's sincerity that has to be there, however small or large the topic. Better an honest poem about a tiny matter than inflated pomposity on any topic whatsoever.

Twelveoone, a last thanks - I had not realized what you point out now, and which I like very much, the issue of progressive devaluation. This is one of those moments where one can only stand back and watch the text and the reader bring the best out of each other. I wish I could hope that on some unconscious level I sensed that and made it that way; I can only say that you have now made it so for me, and I like the poem the better for it.

Many thanks all.

Shanglan

without getting into a long winded philosophical blah, blah. There is a huge amout of cleverness in Japanese haiku,(has to be) I did not read this as "false". True, the great "I" shows up (me, mine) three times, it is balanced by the "you".
The "you" can be read as impersonal, in that case it does look like you had a bit of a philosophical conversation with yourself, a "peeling of the onion" a quiet search for meaning.
Substitute the word "pomposity" for cloak, just for your own reading purposes, where do you arrive? Pretty close to your statement above, no?

 

[foehn]

this thread has been oddly stimulating

Whereas, (you can correct me if I'm wrong, here) you consider it presumptuous to change the wording of a poem, if you're not the poet creator, I think it's a little uppity to imagine that the reader's favourite image is the one the poet wanted to convey.
... I'm just trying to defend the making of what I thought was a simple suggestion.
... My voice is not the voice of Shanglan. I lack the timbre, I suspect.

All right, since you're wrong, I'll correct you. I do not consider it presumptuous to change the wording of a poem. I was simply (and politely, I think) showing why the particular suggestion did not work for me. However, since it's not particle physics, it laps over into gray areas, where people feel offended, slighted, or jabbed from time to time. I intended no such thing toward you, but, my apologies nonetheless.

If you knew me at all, in the real world, you'd know I'm not at all "uppity."

There was no need at all for your defense of your suggestion. Shanglan commented positively on it, and I don't think anyone who has commented in this thread has attacked it. As I said, I was only commenting on some particular facts which made the direction of the suggestion "not quite right" for me. Everyone else is welcome to an opinion, and honestly, I didn't mean for any of my comments to sting you.

There were other comments here I wanted to address... silly 1201, genius though he be, for example... but I wanted to get clear with you, were it possible. However, it's been my experience that once a woman puts on an orange sweatshirt, it stays on. For the record, however, i'm innocent.

As for Shanglan's 'timbre' -- I'd make veal of baby deer, just to have it....

*sigh*