Ritual

[poetedge5455]

I lay my fingers on the keyboard
instead of the knife against my skin

Spatter the pages with my ghosts
not the bathtub with my blood

Kill myself on the page again and again

Searching for the alchemy of words
that will release me from myself

If I can perfect this ritual
if I can die onto the page

I can keep the scream inside my mouth
and the razor inside the drawer

Namaste'

That piece of me that calls to that piece of you
we broken ones know each other

A society of whispers
a club of fidgets, unmet eyes and invisible scars

Our secret passwords monologues
spoken to lamp posts on deserted streets

And ceilings of empty rooms
as we renumber every bump and crack

By streetlight or candlelight
searching for the ones we missed

***

Comments welcome. Don't worry, it's just a poem. :>

 

[WickedEve]

The first half reads like teen angst, maybe a suicidal diary entry. The second half of the poem reads quite differently. These lines are good:

we broken ones know each other

A society of whispers
a club of fidgets, unmet eyes and invisible scars

Our secret passwords monologues
spoken to lamp posts on deserted streets

And ceilings of empty rooms
as we renumber every bump and crack

 

[poetedge5455]

The first half reads like teen angst, maybe a suicidal diary entry. The second half of the poem reads quite differently. These lines are good:

we broken ones know each other

A society of whispers
a club of fidgets, unmet eyes and invisible scars

Our secret passwords monologues
spoken to lamp posts on deserted streets

And ceilings of empty rooms
as we renumber every bump and crack

Thank you. those are the lines I am most satisfied with as well. Most of my poems tend to be born several lines or stanzas in, lol. It is similar to a faucet in an old building. You have to let it run a bit to get to the potable stuff. I will take your feeling about the first part as perhaps not letting the faucet run enough before deciding to fill the glass. You maay be right.

So does that mean I only get half an apple? :>

 

[BooMerengue]

So does that mean I only get half an apple? :>

pssttt.... Just be careful. She might put on her red shoes.


Wavin' at Evie! I thought you were gone from here, girl! Glad you're not!!!

 

[lorencino]

The first half reads like teen angst, maybe a suicidal diary entry. The second half of the poem reads quite differently. These lines are good:

we broken ones know each other

A society of whispers
a club of fidgets, unmet eyes and invisible scars

Our secret passwords monologues
spoken to lamp posts on deserted streets

And ceilings of empty rooms
as we renumber every bump and crack

Though these lines are certainly more powerful than what comes before, I would hesitate to describe the earlier lines as either suicidal or an echo of teenage angst. (I also hesitate to contradict such a formidable mind and poet as WickedEve but today is a day for risk-taking it would seem.)

The earlier lines have a calm understated denial of the suicidal and are not the melodramatic poetry one associates with the way teenagers cope with their pain in their writing. I read "kill myself on the page again and again" as a struggle for transcendence or perhaps even perspective. I saw it as a reminder to themselves by someone in pain to not believe that the state of pain would be a constant in their life—an attempt to not surrender to pain. Holy shit! I hope I know what I'm talking about.

 

[WickedEve]

I thought you were gone from here, girl!

Nooo...
I've been in a cave -- spelunking with spiders.
But I'm slowly returning to the forum.

 

[WickedEve]

Though these lines are certainly more powerful than what comes before, I would hesitate to describe the earlier lines as either suicidal or an echo of teenage angst. (I also hesitate to contradict such a formidable mind and poet as WickedEve but today is a day for risk-taking it would seem.)

The earlier lines have a calm understated denial of the suicidal and are not the melodramatic poetry one associates with the way teenagers cope with their pain in their writing. I read "kill myself on the page again and again" as a struggle for transcendence or perhaps even perspective. I saw it as a reminder to themselves by someone in pain to not believe that the state of pain would be a constant in their life—an attempt to not surrender to pain. Holy shit! I hope I know what I'm talking about.

Eh, maybe not too much teen angst but it could still be improved by being more subtle -- maybe less "knife against my skin" kind of phrases. Second part of the poem is much better. Heck, I'd cut the first half and let the second half stand alone.

 

[EroticOrogeny]

It does appear to be more like 2 separate poems, with the first being the author's attempt to deal with his pain through writing, perhaps a bit melodramatic (which I can easily get into, myself).
In the second you have other(s) present. In some places it seems like a pair, while elsewhere more, perhaps just a few.
Is Namaste a reference to the Hindu greeting? Not sure how well it relates to either except to tie the two together.

Don't think I've had the opportunity to welcome you - so welcome!

 

[poetedge5455]

Though these lines are certainly more powerful than what comes before, I would hesitate to describe the earlier lines as either suicidal or an echo of teenage angst. (I also hesitate to contradict such a formidable mind and poet as WickedEve but today is a day for risk-taking it would seem.)

The earlier lines have a calm understated denial of the suicidal and are not the melodramatic poetry one associates with the way teenagers cope with their pain in their writing. I read "kill myself on the page again and again" as a struggle for transcendence or perhaps even perspective. I saw it as a reminder to themselves by someone in pain to not believe that the state of pain would be a constant in their life—an attempt to not surrender to pain. Holy shit! I hope I know what I'm talking about.

Ok. Fwiw. The above comments are spot on what I was thinking when I wrote those lines. So it seems I may have gotten it partially right. But a writing teacher of mine once said 'the last person to know ask what a story is about is the author' so.... :>

My personal philodsophy in regards to audience is that the author should make an attempt to meet the reader halfway. If it is purely internal, with no attempt to communicate outward, it is verbal masturbation and should be in your journal or therapist's notes, lol. So I value the teenage angst comments by Eve as well.

Eve. You are right. I cut a line just before posting, bc I dislike the 'turning to the camera' feel of it but included, it supports your argument.

...and the razor inside the drawer.

If this touches you, we are family

Namaste'

So, yes it is two poems. The first either Lor's or your take, but either way introspective agony. The second, turning it outward and realizing I am not alone (or rationalizing that so I don't FEEL alone? Lol). Again, thank you. I thought the quick cut from self reflection to universality worked. Perhaps not.

E. Orogeny. Yes it is the Hindu greeting. Though it is used similiarly to aloha for the most part, the spiritual definition (I paraphrase Joseph Campbell here) is 'the part of me that is god, recognizes the part of you that is god, and so we are not separate except in this haze of Maya (illusion).

Perhaps too much of a reach? I actually never liked obscure refernces that have the reader required to have a doctorate in mythology or whatever to understand the piece, even though I am a myth fanatic and my mind is full of trivial tidbits, so I usually get it. But that gets into choice of audience,etc., and is a matter of personal choice.

Re: the stark images of blood and razors, I started out as a horror writer, lol. But seriously, I did want it to be stark and somewhat jarring, so I'm not unhappy that it caused a bit of squirming. But I take the melodramatic comment to heart. I never have to worry about being too subtle. The other end of the spectrum will usually be my demise.

 

[butters]

I lay my fingers on the keyboard
instead of the knife against my skin

Spatter the pages with my ghosts
not the bathtub with my blood

Kill myself on the page again and again

Searching for the alchemy of words
that will release me from myself


and the razor inside the drawer

Namaste'

That piece of me that calls to that piece of you
we broken ones know each other

A society of whispers
a club of fidgets, unmet eyes and invisible scars

Our secret passwords monologues
spoken to lamp posts on deserted streets

And ceilings of empty rooms
as we renumber every bump and crack

By streetlight or candlelight
searching for the ones we missed

***

Comments welcome. Don't worry, it's just a poem. :>

Not been here anything like the time I ought have, but glad I dropped by and found this.

For me, this works as two poems the first ending with Namasté, the second beginning with it. Hmmm -edit: re-reading this I'm not so sure now - perhaps using italics for Namasté would make it more of a visual turning point, a road sign for the reader who (ok, I admit it) ought to get it 'more' on first read-through). I found the small distractions in the first half's text, though, do detract from that important pivotal point. That's not to say it will for others. This is only my opinion.

This/they could bear a little judicious pruning of the odd surplus word, but the second half showers me with unusual images whilst the first has a solemnity I found quite suited to the weight of topic, a kind of subdued desperation that calls for some respect from the reader simply because it is so hidden and not 'splattered' all over a bathtub. These lines here, though? For me, they are striking:

If I can perfect this ritual
if I can die onto the page

I can keep the scream inside my mouth

It also feels a more natural ending for the first half, to be honest.

 

[poetedge5455]

Wow, everyon is confirming the things I thought.

The razor inside the drawer line I almost cut for overkill. First instinct was correct, I see.

You see why I cut the ...we are familty line bc it DIVIDED the poem. I am leanig toward the overall board view it is too separat poems.

Keep going!

Not been here anything like the time I ought have, but glad I dropped by and found this.

For me, this works as two poems the first ending with Namasté, the second beginning with it. Hmmm -edit: re-reading this I'm not so sure now - perhaps using italics for Namasté would make it more of a visual turning point, a road sign for the reader who (ok, I admit it) ought to get it 'more' on first read-through). I found the small distractions in the first half's text, though, do detract from that important pivotal point. That's not to say it will for others. This is only my opinion.

This/they could bear a little judicious pruning of the odd surplus word, but the second half showers me with unusual images whilst the first has a solemnity I found quite suited to the weight of topic, a kind of subdued desperation that calls for some respect from the reader simply because it is so hidden and not 'splattered' all over a bathtub. These lines here, though? For me, they are striking:

If I can perfect this ritual
if I can die onto the page

I can keep the scream inside my mouth

It also feels a more natural ending for the first half, to be honest.

 

[butters]

ok, pls bear in mind I'm very sleepy right now, thinking's harder than it should be

ok, just a couple of ideas to take bits from or discard as you deem fit - your work:

Two poems, Ritual and Namasté.

The second half I haven't touched whatsoever, since I'm too tired to make any suggestions for improvement and not even sure if it needs any.

Part one, Ritual, I've cut some of the 'my's. Even though your phrase 'Kill myself on the page' could work as the attempt to remove the 'my's and 'I's from your writing, remove the author to leave the poem's voice, I still feel it conveys that without keeping them there in the first place. It works more subtlely, imo, than actually keeping them in place, suggesting the need to remove the concept of the author rather than the physical presence implied by your use of those words - if that makes ANY sense.

In this example I cut a few of what I considered superfluous 'the's to keep it tighter; added a comma to line 5: as I read it aloud it felt it needed a natural break but a line-break would upset the visual balance of the 2/2/1/2/2/1 pattern. The comma felt appropriate, lending it the pause without disrupting the sense of the line.

The other few changes I made further along - some 'the's to that and this, tightening L7 whilst retaining its meaning (I hope, for you too), and slightly altering the beginning of your final line - these were how they felt better aloud to me, going with the nuances of speech-patterning I enjoy. Now, whether or not this works the same for the american ear and accent I can't say. You have to make those calls. Also, please forgive me for doing what I just did to your poem: normally, I'd simply write out suggestions or notations without touching your work but time and tide are against me. SO use or chuck, but do consider them first and see how they taste on your palate.

I'll come back to this, because I might be way off.


Ritual

I lay fingers on the keyboard
instead of knife against skin

Spatter pages with ghosts
not the bathtub with blood

Kill myself on the page, again and again

Searching for that alchemy of words
to release me from myself

If I can perfect this ritual
if I can die onto this page

I get to keep the scream inside my mouth




Namasté

That piece of me that calls to that piece of you
we broken ones know each other

A society of whispers
a club of fidgets, unmet eyes and invisible scars

Our secret passwords monologues
spoken to lamp posts on deserted streets

And ceilings of empty rooms
as we renumber every bump and crack

By streetlight or candlelight
searching for the ones we missed

 

[poetedge5455]

Chip. Don't ever hesitate to do that to my poems!

Normally, I am of the same mind re: other's work. I will suggest but never actually edit unless someone asks me to actually workshop it with them. I just think it is an invasion of personal space, similar to someone asking you I like their new hairstyle, and instead of offering an opinion, I pull out shears and start cutting. :>

However, I don't mind if people do it to my own, especially one with as keen an ear as you.

I think you have just doubled my production for that day, and I can't think of any way they could be better than your edit. I agree with everything you said and did. Thank you.

 

[lorencino]

Snip

Ritual

I lay fingers on the keyboard
instead of knife against skin

Spatter pages with ghosts
not the bathtub with blood

Kill myself on the page, again and again

Searching for that alchemy of words
to release me from myself

If I can perfect this ritual
if I can die onto this page

I get to keep the scream inside my mouth




Namasté

That piece of me that calls to that piece of you
we broken ones know each other

A society of whispers
a club of fidgets, unmet eyes and invisible scars

Our secret passwords monologues
spoken to lamp posts on deserted streets

And ceilings of empty rooms
as we renumber every bump and crack

By streetlight or candlelight
searching for the ones we missed

Right on. Now that experience of you speaks clearly to me in the poem "Ritual." Dropping the "and the razor inside the drawer" was inspired. It really ruined the poem. So I really like the first poem for it's clarity and maturity.

The second poem needs a lot of work. Standing out there on its own without the introduction of the first, it becomes obscure for me, and halting. The second line does not flow easily from the first and that unsettles me. Honestly, the second poem begins to feel more like the melodramatic and the insane in contrast with the sharp clarity of the first.

Wow! This has become quite a fascinating exercise.

 

[butters]

Chip. Don't ever hesitate to do that to my poems!

Normally, I am of the same mind re: other's work. I will suggest but never actually edit unless someone asks me to actually workshop it with them. I just think it is an invasion of personal space, similar to someone asking you I like their new hairstyle, and instead of offering an opinion, I pull out shears and start cutting. :>

However, I don't mind if people do it to my own, especially one with as keen an ear as you.

I think you have just doubled my production for that day, and I can't think of any way they could be better than your edit. I agree with everything you said and did. Thank you.

well I'm glad you took the suggestions in the spirit they were intended it was kind of rude of me but I am ill - that's my excuse. and that's why so tired. All I ever offer, though, are opinions, and never expect people to take them up as a matter of course - everyone writes with a different style. I do try to keep any edits as close to the poem's own voice as possible, though.

If I feel awake enough later I'll take another look at Namasté, though other eyes like Lorencino's may well suit it better. Right now I see only minor alterations, perhaps in the line-structuring, but this might be because I'm so taken with the unusual phrasing, and (for me) sharp imagery.

 

[poetedge5455]

Aah how I love debate! Loren do you think the edits chip made sans severing the original into two pieces works better?

I do agree that the second needs some setup if I look at it objectively. Perhaps a suite?

Lore and Chip pistols at dawn. :>

 

[butters]

haha, no pistols - maybe pens?

I suppose it's one of those things: a poem can be a strange creature, mutable, pliant ... maybe it's only a matter of personal preference that I see this as two separate pieces rather than one turned on a cusp. Perhaps Lor can offer his suggestions as to how it can be honed to work best as a single piece. That'd be really interesting to compare the two stylings.

For this second piece, a stand-alone, I'd suggest something more than I thought originally.


Namasté I'd keep the title, as the signpost pointing the reader more clearly in the direction you want us to take. Bear with me, please

That piece of me that calls to that piece of you I suggest losing this first line altogether, making the reason for the 'signpost' title clearer.
we broken ones know each other LOVE this as a first line though you could even afford to drop the 'we' from it, imo. It still works with it, or replaced with 'the' ... hmmm, 'the broken ones know eachother'. maybe 'the broken know eachother' or 'the broken, we know eachother'. Just thoughts, p.e

A society of whispers Don't change that line, it's as sweet as a nut!
a club of fidgets, unmet eyes and invisible scars I'd consider a line break before 'invisible scars' and possibly drop the 'and' unless you bring that opening line down something like this:

the broken, we know eachother
a society of whispers
a club of fidgets
unmet eyes and invisible scars

then you've the consideration of punctuation to address - I just put that how I would have but you need to be true to the poem's voice. If you feel it requires punctuation, then obviously that's where you go with it.

Our secret passwords monologues
spoken to lamp posts on deserted streets As you already suggested to me, you can afford to drop 'spoken', though it's not essential; dropping 'spoken' would make the second line there cleaner, but I still like the feel of the word in my mouth - probably because of the sound-links with the hard 'O' and the sibilance of the 's's. It seemed more clear-cut before I looked in-depth at the structuring here. Not even certain about dropping 'monologues' down to begin the next line

our secret passwords monologues
to lamp posts on deserted streets

or

our secret passwords
monologues to lamp posts on deserted streets

the first example is cleaner visually, you simply need to weigh up the difference as you speak it aloud and see which feels better, if either, than your original.

And ceilings of empty rooms love how the hard E's are continued in this line, creating that sound-continuity I enjoy, like a background harmony carrying the words.
as we renumber every bump and crack wouldn't touch that line, it sits too pretty for me to suggest any changes

By streetlight or candlelight
searching for the ones we missed

searching for those we missed? ambivalent. while I like the last line, it feels a syllable too drawn out for me to be entirely comfortable with it. However, again it's a personal thing most likely and not any 'fault' with the line itself. It will likely get determined by what you do with the lines before it, if you change a thing. Entirely your call, just some thoughts of mine on a piece I have really enjoyed getting into - and not even mentioning metaphors and with only passing references to assonance, lol!

 

[poetedge5455]

haha, no pistols - maybe pens?

I suppose it's one of those things: a poem can be a strange creature, mutable, pliant ... maybe it's only a matter of personal preference that I see this as two separate pieces rather than one turned on a cusp. Perhaps Lor can offer his suggestions as to how it can be honed to work best as a single piece. That'd be really interesting to compare the two stylings.

For this second piece, a stand-alone, I'd suggest something more than I thought originally.


Namasté I'd keep the title, as the signpost pointing the reader more clearly in the direction you want us to take. Bear with me, please

That piece of me that calls to that piece of you I suggest losing this first line altogether, making the reason for the 'signpost' title clearer.
we broken ones know each other LOVE this as a first line though you could even afford to drop the 'we' from it, imo. It still works with it, or replaced with 'the' ... hmmm, 'the broken ones know eachother'. maybe 'the broken know eachother' or 'the broken, we know eachother'. Just thoughts, p.e

A society of whispers Don't change that line, it's as sweet as a nut!
a club of fidgets, unmet eyes and invisible scars I'd consider a line break before 'invisible scars' and possibly drop the 'and' unless you bring that opening line down something like this:

the broken, we know eachother
a society of whispers
a club of fidgets
unmet eyes and invisible scars

then you've the consideration of punctuation to address - I just put that how I would have but you need to be true to the poem's voice. If you feel it requires punctuation, then obviously that's where you go with it.

Our secret passwords monologues
spoken to lamp posts on deserted streets As you already suggested to me, you can afford to drop 'spoken', though it's not essential; dropping 'spoken' would make the second line there cleaner, but I still like the feel of the word in my mouth - probably because of the sound-links with the hard 'O' and the sibilance of the 's's. It seemed more clear-cut before I looked in-depth at the structuring here. Not even certain about dropping 'monologues' down to begin the next line

our secret passwords monologues
to lamp posts on deserted streets

or

our secret passwords
monologues to lamp posts on deserted streets

the first example is cleaner visually, you simply need to weigh up the difference as you speak it aloud and see which feels better, if either, than your original.

And ceilings of empty rooms love how the hard E's are continued in this line, creating that sound-continuity I enjoy, like a background harmony carrying the words.
as we renumber every bump and crack wouldn't touch that line, it sits too pretty for me to suggest any changes

By streetlight or candlelight
searching for the ones we missed

searching for those we missed? ambivalent. while I like the last line, it feels a syllable too drawn out for me to be entirely comfortable with it. However, again it's a personal thing most likely and not any 'fault' with the line itself. It will likely get determined by what you do with the lines before it, if you change a thing. Entirely your call, just some thoughts of mine on a piece I have really enjoyed getting into - and not even mentioning metaphors and with only passing references to assonance, lol!

I am sitting in Dunkin Donuts waiting for my car to be repaired. I think I will repost this after Lor has another go. Chip all you said above is well met. I mentioned 'spoken? In the pm as I could see the slipstream slightly quicker pace you were applying elsewhere. Also, as - mentioned, the 'painterly' feel of leaving the implied subliminally supplied by the reader (or not).

But I feel the same way about spoken as a supplier of pitch and harmony to the other sounds. That line was one of the first germs in my head when I began this. Strunk and white we're bleating at me that monologues can only BE spoken, (omit needless words!) but I shoo'd them away.

As for the last line. I wrote literally thinking of the bunps and cracks, then noticed the obvious double entendre' and liked the ambiguity. Let the reader decide what 'we' are really searching for. Do you think the ambiguity detracts? Lor?

I agree it does thud a bit. Musically, sevens aren't easy to swing to, lol. Perhaps

Searching for ones we missed.

Hexameter? Or three feet really, though the first is not iambic, unless you force it..

sear-CHING ka-CHING .

YES. I have had entirely too much coffee. Been drinking it since 10p last night.

 

[butters]

I like ambiguity, it lends dimension to a piece. Let the reader do some of the work, explore the nuances.

When all is said and done, it has to feel right to you. An author who changes their own work to fit in with the wishes of others when those ideas don't sit well with their own feelings is an author who's gonna feel disenfranchised from his own material and ultimately become so detached from it he'll lose any interest in it. I know from experience. When I first started off, I'd try and make ALL he changes suggested - then realised I couldn't change it to please everyone, and that I needed to be true to my own instincts too, since what I was ending up with seemd nothing to do with me at all! Learning to trust your own instincts is something that comes with time as I am sure you know all too well - and we can swing from not trusting to over-confidence (or in reverse) alarmingly. Balance is everything. Trust yourself and learn through experience who else to trust. ALWAYS always always consider the source of any critique.

 

[poetedge5455]

Yes, I think I've reached the point where I trust myself over suggestions from others if - feel they hadn't caught at least partially the spirit of the piece. I can pinpoint the exact time when - reached that knowing - once submiited a ten page story to a magazine wher the editor wrote ' the first pages had me at the edge of my seat, waiting to turn the page, but seemed to peter out to an unsatisfying ending'. I didn't agree and, changing not a word, tor the cover sheet with the comments away and sent it too another mag, wher I received the comments 'thending is a fantatic ascension to a grand climax, but the first half dragged and -I. Nearly put it down before I got the real writng kicked in.'

Had they worked on the same staff, would it have been published, lol. And it is impossible to fix it to both satisfactions, so I didn't change it. A few months later I sold it, as I. Originally submitted it.

This virtual workshop which I agree with Lor is fascinating, I think is in the hands off people I. Never felt it was drifting away from my vision.

Also, I may be influenced by the trouble I am having returning to writing muisic, which I. Never did in the vacuum of myslef alone. When I wrote parts, I would routinely get bogged down or completely halted as to wher to proceed, and a fellow band member would pick it up and carry it on. Having someone say' 'that didn't work, how about this always helped. But when I am the only writer, I am trapped to what MY mind is thinking, and finder it harder than someone with a fresh take on it to progress wher I wouldn't dream pof it going.

 

[lorencino]

I like ambiguity, it lends dimension to a piece. Let the reader do some of the work, explore the nuances.

When all is said and done, it has to feel right to you. An author who changes their own work to fit in with the wishes of others when those ideas don't sit well with their own feelings is an author who's gonna feel disenfranchised from his own material and ultimately become so detached from it he'll lose any interest in it. I know from experience. When I first started off, I'd try and make ALL he changes suggested - then realised I couldn't change it to please everyone, and that I needed to be true to my own instincts too, since what I was ending up with seemd nothing to do with me at all! Learning to trust your own instincts is something that comes with time as I am sure you know all too well - and we can swing from not trusting to over-confidence (or in reverse) alarmingly. Balance is everything. Trust yourself and learn through experience who else to trust. ALWAYS always always consider the source of any critique.

Sorry, poetedge5455, but, overwhelmed by work demands I'm not coping with, I pop in here for stolen moments and don't seem to have time to answer your questions with respectful attention. Now, to make matters worse, I am being distracted by the discussion around your poem rather than the poem itself. Then the above quote from Chipbutty really spoke to me.

My instinctive approach to both reading and writing poetry is very visceral. I poke about in my dark, oily entrails trying to free the voice of some feeling I have or I wait quietly for the words to struggle through the veil between consciousness and language. When there are a few words, my body begins to sway, like an orthodox Jew at prayer (davenning), to provide the rhythmic structure for the words to fall into. Sometimes I get something I like and sometimes I don't. I don't think about assonance, alliteration and rhyme. (I can appreciate rhyme in master poets but it would feel like cheap cheating if I were to do it) I know nothing of consequence about form though I respect that my betters can work miracles with it. I understand that poetry functions on the intellectual, the emotional and the physical levels but I seem to lack the ability to consciously use my intellect to make the form serve the sense of what I write. I'm sure my intellect is at work all the time but concentrating on form seems to drag me away from my intended sense in the poetry. Hexameter, isn't that something to do with eight or is it six. No six is penta. Iambic pentametre? I've heard of that, but it's been so many years of life that have flowed through my brain to make me loose track of all these rules. I'm not meaning to mock those who master this stuff, I am simply accepting that I don't have the capacity to keep track of it all. But I still want to be a poet, dammit!

Now, Chipbutty on the other hand, seems to have a very clear consciousness and intellectual facility in editing a poem as is evidenced by what she has done with yours. Being simultaneously conscious of a number of possibilities makes her approach light and a pleasure to witness. Plus, her respect for the voice of the poet she is editing, makes her comments all the more valuable.

I have had a few very good poets rewrite my poems to produce little masterpieces that, unfortunately, were clearly not my poems anymore. And that fails to satisfy my burning need to see myself as a poet that can speak to others.

Thus having qualified my authority to comment, I return to considering poetedge5455's poem:

I think you have to find a way of bringing these two halves of your original poem back together again. The second part definitely flows from the first.

Namaste is the solution to everything discussed in both halves rather than an introduction to the second half. Perhaps it could function as the conclusion to both halves. That is to say, that both halves must drive towards resolution in Namaste whether the word itself is actually used or not, or repeated at the end of each section.

However, sometimes the logical imperative in the sense has to give way to conventional expectations. If the word Namaste creates an image, in the mind of the average person, of an Indian guru sitting in the lotus position smilingly caressing a flower, then use it only if that is the reaction you want. Often the connotations are a baggage that makes the word unsuitable for the denotation you intend.

Look at Chipbutty's changes and see if they feel like you on a good morning, and if they do, see if you can improve on them. If you can't improve on what she suggests, go with it. I like what she has done and I feel that it clarifies what you were saying to me in the original version.

 

[butters]

...
My instinctive approach to both reading and writing poetry is very visceral. I poke about in my dark, oily entrails trying to free the voice of some feeling I have or I wait quietly for the words to struggle through the veil between consciousness and language. When there are a few words, my body begins to sway, like an orthodox Jew at prayer (davenning), to provide the rhythmic structure for the words to fall into. Sometimes I get something I like and sometimes I don't. I don't think about assonance, alliteration and rhyme. (I can appreciate rhyme in master poets but it would feel like cheap cheating if I were to do it) I know nothing of consequence about form though I respect that my betters can work miracles with it. I understand that poetry functions on the intellectual, the emotional and the physical levels but I seem to lack the ability to consciously use my intellect to make the form serve the sense of what I write. I'm sure my intellect is at work all the time but concentrating on form seems to drag me away from my intended sense in the poetry. Hexameter, isn't that something to do with eight or is it six. No six is penta. Iambic pentametre? I've heard of that, but it's been so many years of life that have flowed through my brain to make me loose track of all these rules. I'm not meaning to mock those who master this stuff, I am simply accepting that I don't have the capacity to keep track of it all. But I still want to be a poet, dammit!

Now, Chipbutty on the other hand, seems to have a very clear consciousness and intellectual facility in editing a poem as is evidenced by what she has done with yours. Being simultaneously conscious of a number of possibilities makes her approach light and a pleasure to witness. Plus, her respect for the voice of the poet she is editing, makes her comments all the more valuable.

this makes me smile - as a poet, I think we wear quite different hats. In those moments (or hours) of creativity, I certainly don't give a thought to the tools of the trade. Luckily enough I seem to have absorbed a few to bolster a little natural ability and, like you, find the act of writing comes from a place far removed from the rule books. Like music, a lot depends on having an ear for it, I think. Sound plays an enormous part for me, which is why you'll find me saying 'if it feels right', or 'it sounds off to me'. Not great technical terms and I've never studied poetry as a subject although I've always read insatiably. I've NOT read nearly enough, and often feel quite the dunce when people blithely sit discussing the likes of James Joyce and so many other names I've only heard of but never read. My grounding was in the works of Shakespeare and the later Romantics, with a little Milton, Wilfred Owen, and a soupcon of Wordsworth. It wasn't till my late 30's I discovered the joys of Walt Whitman, Frost, EECummings, TSElliot - a host of others. A lot of the technicalities are still unfamiliar to me off the bat, but that's not a problem when I can look them up, and I've dabbled with form before at other sites. When I look to edit awork, I have to first read it through as 'the reader' and experience it that way to assimilate how it makes me feel, what images leave their imprint, what aftertastes linger beyond the read. Only then can I put on my editor's hat and see what makes the piece tick.

But still it's the poet inside us who digs through the entrails, plucks threads from the air to reel them in, the poet's intuitive grasp of a concept and the strugle to make it come to the page in words that may convey some sense of all of this. We often write a piece, and then see it's the 'what we want to say' and we've yet to manage to find the 'how we want to say it'. Quite often I feel a fake - reading the pieces others create and thinking 'wow! how did they think of these things? I can't write like that!' And then I have to remember we all write in different ways, with unique visions, and some of my own have garnered those kind of comments too.

We're kinda wussy, right?

 

[lorencino]

snip

Quite often I feel a fake - reading the pieces others create and thinking 'wow! how did the think of these things? I can't write like that!' And then I have to remember we all write in different ways, with unique visions, and some of my own have garned those kind of comments too.

We're kinda wussy, right?

The beauty of this is that my being special doesn't have to stop anyone else from being special. So as a wuss, I am happy that I don't have to compete to be special. But damn, I sure like feeling special when it happens.

I wonder if admitting that you are a wuss makes it unlikely that you are one. I mean, it takes courage to consider the possibility, and courage is the strength that a wussy lacks. (Fuck, only a wuss could go on like this about it.)

I still think you are good, though.

 

[poetedge5455]

The beauty of this is that my being special doesn't have to stop anyone else from being special. So as a wuss, I am happy that I don't have to compete to be special. But damn, I sure like feeling special when it happens.

I wonder if admitting that you are a wuss makes it unlikely that you are one. I mean, it takes courage to consider the possibility, and courage is the strength that a wussy lacks. (Fuck, only a wuss could go on like this about it.)

I still think you are good, though.

Loe. I knew there was a reason you immediately caught the spirit I meant in the first post o
Here.. it seems our work comes out of the dark wherever in the same way. While I have studied forms exhaustively, I rarely can write naturally in them. Feel the same way as you about rhyme. I usually use a form as a way of restricting the tangents I am prone to, that is why I am drawn to repeating forms; pantoums, sestinas, etc, though I bastardize and hybrid them unrepentedly.

I do hope your life becomes less hectic bc I look forward to your posts, both in comments and in work. Thank you EVERYONE. This is the best workshop I have ever had with people I have never 'met' LOL.

 

[arielsgoddess]

Lorencino, are you having a bad day, darling....

You are a bullfighter by day, and my lover slipping onto my balcony by night. Where is the wuss in you? Maybe when you were an infant, hiding behind your mother's skirt--but so long ago! Not since you could begin to feel the fire first tingling in your chest--the testosterone building its flames around your heart...no you are both bullfighter and lover, your dance that of a master, either way....

What is this talk of wussies, Lorencino...let us dance like warriors instead