Hep Me Out!

[Angeline]

So I submitted this poem~


The moon is pregnant with metaphor.
You look up and see a fingernail
or a benevolent loopy face.
Think of a harvest moon, dark
as pumpkin or winter’s white gold
shifting in and out of gray, hanging
like an ornament in a snow globe.
The delicate spring moon is balanced
in night, a promise lighting copses’
hidden bowers, glowing on whispers,
laughter, yours and yours, a promise
kept in summer in its translucent
descent kissing rivers and ocean,
so full of itself, dancing joy on water,
but it’s shy and unsure, too,
a bumpkin moon sneaking behind
the Sun's skirts, sometimes all the way.
Nothing is so cold as that moment
when it’s blotted away by darkness
or so reassuring as the ever of its return.
We daydream about the cow’s high jump,
the silly dish and spoon eloping,
and we feel safe and sleep or sing
about its glow, how it shines on
because it has to be moonlight
or shadow or some other thing
that it is and isn’t everywhere.

and it needs work. I know it needs line breaks at the very least (and thank you to those who offered suggestions already). I'm going to edit it, but I'd love any other suggestions y'all have as well as any other moon metaphors you think might work in it.

Thanks, poets.

 

[WickedEve]

There's no help for you.

Some poems are so easy when it comes to line breaks. This one isn't. Here are two possible ways to do it:

The moon is pregnant with metaphor.
You look up and see a fingernail
or a benevolent loopy face.
Think of a harvest moon, dark
as pumpkin or winter’s white gold
shifting in and out of gray, hanging
like an ornament in a snow globe.

The delicate spring moon is balanced
in night, a promise lighting copses’
hidden bowers, glowing on whispers,
laughter, yours and yours, a promise
kept in summer in its translucent
descent kissing rivers and ocean,
so full of itself, dancing joy on water,

but it’s shy and unsure, too,
a bumpkin moon sneaking behind
the Sun's skirts, sometimes all the way.
Nothing is so cold as that moment
when it’s blotted away by darkness
or so reassuring as the ever of its return.

We daydream about the cow’s high jump,
the silly dish and spoon eloping,
and we feel safe and sleep or sing
about its glow, how it shines on
because it has to be moonlight
or shadow or some other thing
that it is and isn’t everywhere.

-------------------------------------------------------------

The moon is pregnant with metaphor.
You look up and see a fingernail
or a benevolent loopy face.

Think of a harvest moon, dark
as pumpkin or winter’s white gold
shifting in and out of gray, hanging
like an ornament in a snow globe.

The delicate spring moon is balanced
in night, a promise lighting copses’
hidden bowers, glowing on whispers,
laughter, yours and yours, a promise
kept in summer in its translucent
descent kissing rivers and ocean,
so full of itself, dancing joy on water,

but it’s shy and unsure, too,
a bumpkin moon sneaking behind
the Sun's skirts, sometimes all the way.

Nothing is so cold as that moment
when it’s blotted away by darkness
or so reassuring as the ever of its return.

We daydream about the cow’s high jump,
the silly dish and spoon eloping,
and we feel safe and sleep or sing
about its glow, how it shines on
because it has to be moonlight
or shadow or some other thing
that it is and isn’t everywhere.

---------------------------------------------------------------

And I was playing around with the beginning of the last stanza:

We daydream about the cow’s orbital bound,
the fickle china eloping with a spoon,
and we feel safe and sleep or sing
about its glow, how it shines on
because it has to be moonlight
or shadow or some other thing
that it is and isn’t everywhere.

 

[Tathagata]

Hep

All I can think of is Little Richard singing
" The girl can't hep it..she was born to please"
ahem
anyway
Breaks..


The moon is pregnant with metaphor.
You look up and see a fingernail
or a benevolent loopy face.

Think of a harvest moon,
dark as pumpkin
or winter’s white gold
shifting in and out of gray,
hanging
like an ornament in a snow globe.

The delicate spring moon is balanced in night,
a promise lighting copses’ hidden bowers,
glowing on whispers, laughter,
yours and yours,
a promise
kept in summer
in its translucent descent kissing rivers and ocean,
so full of itself,
dancing joy on water,
but it’s shy and unsure, too.

A bumpkin moon sneaking behind the Sun's skirts,
sometimes all the way.

Nothing is so cold as that moment
when it’s blotted away by darkness
or so reassuring as the ever of its return.

We daydream about the cow’s high jump,
the silly dish and spoon eloping,
and we feel safe
and sleep or sing
about its glow, how it shines on
because it has to be moonlight
or shadow
or some other thing
that it is and isn’t everywhere.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know my rhythms are strange
lol
I read this a few different ways..this works for me...but I always hear peoms like songs
and often times cut a line in two because i like the flow
i'm an ass that way



other metaphors:

lunar,
( lunacy) luna sea,

~shrug~

 

[Guest]

Mr balance here... I didn't do much, just broke it up in 4 stanzas of two lengths. I think the 7th line calls for a full stop and the 8th a capitalization, result of the full stop on the 7th


The moon is pregnant with metaphor.
You look up and see a fingernail
or a benevolent loopy face.
Think of a harvest moon, dark
as pumpkin or winter’s white gold
shifting in and out of gray, hanging
like an ornament in a snow globe,

the delicate spring moon is balanced
in night, a promise lighting copses’
hidden bowers, glowing on whispers.

Laughter, yours and yours, a promise
kept in summer in its translucent
descent kissing rivers and ocean,
so full of itself, dancing joy on water,
but it’s shy and unsure, too,
a bumpkin moon sneaking behind
the Sun's skirts, sometimes all the way.

Nothing is so cold as that moment
when it’s blotted away by darkness
or so reassuring as the ever of its return.

We daydream about the cow’s high jump,
the silly dish and spoon eloping,
and we feel safe and sleep or sing
about its glow, how it shines on
because it has to be moonlight
or shadow or some other thing
that it is and isn’t everywhere.

 

[tungtied2u]

Hep

So can we make this into one of those voting things, and decide for Ange which version shemust use.

C'mon, please!

 

[WickedEve]

Re: Hep

So can we make this into one of those voting things, and decide for Ange which version shemust use.

C'mon, please!

I like that idea! Let's do something feaky with her poem.

 

[Liar]

Angeline, I've been mening to ask you something. There this one thing that you do in poems now and then that I can't get the hang of:


The moon is pregnant with metaphor.
You look up and see a fingernail
or a benevolent loopy face.
Think of a harvest moon, dark
as pumpkin or winter’s white gold
shifting in and out of gray, hanging
like an ornament in a snow globe.
The delicate spring moon is balanced
in night, a promise lighting copses’
hidden bowers, glowing on whispers,
laughter, yours and yours, a promise
kept in summer in its translucent
descent kissing rivers and ocean,
so full of itself, dancing joy on water,
but it’s shy and unsure, too,
a bumpkin moon sneaking behind
the Sun's skirts, sometimes all the way.
Nothing is so cold as that moment
when it’s blotted away by darkness


What I'm aiming at that you put those line breaks in the beginning of phrases, in the beginning of notions even. Just curious, is this intentional? And if it is, what purpose does it serve?

With the presicion and control I've come to know from your pen, I refuse to think that that kind of thing doesn't just...happen.

#L

 

[Liar]

...and here it is, mangled through the head of L.



The moon is pregnant with metaphor.
You look up and see a fingernail
or a benevolent loopy face.

Think of a harvest moon,
dark as pumpkin
or winter’s white gold
shifting in and out of gray,
hanging like an ornament
in a snow globe.

The delicate spring moon
is balanced in night,
a promise lighting copses’
hidden bowers, glowing on whispers,
laughter, yours and yours,
a promise kept in summer
in its translucent descent
kissing rivers and ocean,
so full of itself,
dancing joy on water.

But it’s shy and unsure too,
a bumpkin moon sneaking
behind the Sun's skirts,
sometimes all the way.
Nothing is so cold as that moment
when it’s blotted away by darkness
or so reassuring as the ever of its return.

We daydream about the cow’s high jump,
the silly dish and spoon eloping,
and we feel safe and sleep
or sing about its glow, how it shines on
because it has to be moonlight
or shadow or some other thing
that it is and isn’t everywhere.

 

[Tathagata]

Re: Re: Hep Me Out!

Angeline, I've been mening to ask you something. There this one thing that you do in poems now and then that I can't get the hang of:
What I'm aiming at that you put those line breaks in the beginning of phrases, in the beginning of notions even. Just curious, is this intentional? And if it is, what purpose does it serve?

With the presicion and control I've come to know from your pen, I refuse to think that that kind of thing doesn't just...happen.

#L

I think it's the nyquil she puts in her coffee.......
but that could be a nasty rumor...

 

[Angeline]

Thank you all--although I ain't so sure about the "do something freaky with her poem part," lol. I just got home from work, so I have to look carefully at what everyone is suggesting and figure out what I think will work best. (And I just realized I can't do that until I consume dinner--I'm bad with poems when I'm grumpy with hunger.)

I'll be back later.




And my dear Liar, your point is well taken. I know I make weird line breaks sometimes. When I do--that is leave the beginning of a line hanging at the end of the preceding one--there *is* a reason. I do it cause I think there are two ways to interpret the phrasing, depending on how you read it. This may be problematic when I adds punctuation, line breaks, I know.

I must say I never am sure this is a good idea, and considering the feedback I get, naybe it's really not. I'm always experimenting to see how many layers of meaning I can get from a line, but I don't want to sacrifice readibility, so thank you for the comment (even if it does confirm what I feared, lol).

 

[Angeline]

Re: Re: Re: Hep Me Out!

I think it's the nyquil she puts in her coffee.......
but that could be a nasty rumor...

Open up your yahoo, you monkey. (errr I mean your instant messaging program.)

And Nyquil! Puh-leeze! Jaegermeister is about as low as I stoop!

 

[Liar]

And my dear Liar, your point is well taken. I know I make weird line breaks sometimes. When I do--that is leave the beginning of a line hanging at the end of the preceding one--there *is* a reason. I do it cause I think there are two ways to interpret the phrasing, depending on how you read it. This may be problematic when I adds punctuation, line breaks, I know.

I must say I never am sure this is a good idea, and considering the feedback I get, naybe it's really not. I'm always experimenting to see how many layers of meaning I can get from a line, but I don't want to sacrifice readibility, so thank you for the comment (even if it does confirm what I feared, lol).

Ah-hah! See, I knew you knew what you were doing. Gotta go read your poems more carefullty.

 

[Angeline]

Ah-hah! See, I knew you knew what you were doing. Gotta go read your poems more carefullty.

We shall see. It may help or not.

 

[Angeline]

OK!

I loved reading everyone's versions because they all help and all in different ways--and they each reflect your individual styles, which I find very cool.



What I like is the separation of the distinctive parts--you all pretty much suggested the same breaks.

So Version 2

The moon is pregnant with metaphor.
You look up, see a fingernail
or a benevolent loopy face.

Think of a harvest moon,
dark as pumpkin,
or winter’s white gold,
shifting in and out of gray,
hanging like an ornament
in a snow globe.

The delicate spring moon
is balanced in the night.
It is promise, lighting copses’
hidden bowers, glowing on whispers,
laughter, yours and yours.
The promise, kept in summer,
is that translucent descent
kissing rivers and ocean.
Then the moon is full of itself,
dancing joy on water.

But it’s shy and unsure too,
a bumpkin sneaking
behind the Sun's skirts.

Nothing is so cold as that moment
when it’s blotted away by darkness,
or so reassuring as the ever of its return.

We daydream about the cow’s high jump,
the silly dish and spoon eloping,
and we feel safe and sleep,
or sing about its glow, how it shines on
because it has to be moonlight
or shadow or some other thing
that it is and isn’t everywhere.


Better? Do I have a pronoun reference problem anywhere--is it always clear where I mean the moon?

Do I ask too many questions?

 

[Tathagata]

Re: OK!

Better? Do I have a pronoun reference problem anywhere--is it always clear where I mean the moon?

Do I ask too many questions?

Is that woman Gagged in your AV??
How ironic...

 

[Angeline]

Re: Re: OK!

Is that woman Gagged in your AV??
How ironic...

*That* is the most constructive thing you can say?



(And she is not gagged. Her hair is hanging over her face. Smartass.)

 

[Tathagata]

Re: Re: Re: OK!

*That* is the most constructive thing you can say?



(And she is not gagged. Her hair is hanging over her face. Smartass.)

what the hell is that thing on her mouth??


oh constructive..
ummmmmm

yeah glad I was right about your poem





( yeah I know.....i'm pushin it huh??)

 

[Angeline]

Re: Re: Re: Re: OK!

what the hell is that thing on her mouth??


oh constructive..
ummmmmm

yeah glad I was right about your poem





( yeah I know.....i'm pushin it huh??)

just send me another recipe and we'll call it even.

 

[Tathagata]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: OK!

just send me another recipe and we'll call it even.

LOL

what do you want to learn to make??

 

[Angeline]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: OK!

LOL

what do you want to learn to make??

poems, mostly.

 

[Tathagata]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: OK!

poems, mostly.

i'm better with ice cream
lol

 

[Angeline]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: OK!

i'm better with ice cream
lol

mebbe. i like your poems. (but I really really love pumpkin pie ice cream, lol)

 

[Tathagata]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: OK!

mebbe. i like your poems. (but I really really love pumpkin pie ice cream, lol)

you got that link right??
i should give you the whole site
some great flavors...

 

[Angeline]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: OK!

you got that link right??
i should give you the whole site
some great flavors...

I bookmarked it. haha. See where my priorities lie?

 

[Tathagata]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: OK!

I bookmarked it. haha. See where my priorities lie?

Uh huh
celebration and ice cream
why do they seem connected??