Hmmmm

...not looking forward to workshopping my poem...

"The Fishing Trip" by Christina Cottros

I love that the fist sentence is a fragment—childhood is fragmentary, memory is fragmentary, the feeling of the woman’s death at the end of the poem, seems too, almost fragmentary. I think there are some really nice images playing at work here. I only just noticed the fact that the two articles of clothing—the sneakers and the dress—are both red. This is a really effective tool that I think makes a second reading of the poem different from the first—which is always a good thing. Red dress—red halo. Oh, and another thing: I like the image of the halo—always a good symbol. I wonder, though, if there is any way to make the symbol a little bit less obvious—maybe just hint at it, rather than just coming right out and saying it. I think this would add depth to the poem that is clearly already layered. I love the images this poem presents. The grubby little hands, holding a stick as he “rattles” it “along the white picket fence”—I can almost feel my own hands jarring from the memory of doing exactly that, except probably on a chain link fence, since I grew up in south Florida. Good stuff.

Since I think color plays such an important role in this poem, I am wondering if perhaps the descriptions of color could have more detail. For example, rather than just saying “blue sky,” what about using another word, like: sapphire, or robin’s egg, or clear-water blue? This could be used so many times—describing the white fence, the child’s green eyes, (ironically, not the Buick), or even the red liquorish (which I’m pretty sure is conventionally spelled “licorice”). I would also like to see more description of Mr. Jones, because on my first reading I had to look back up to see what was going on with him when I read “She gasps, suddenly feeling sorry for laughing at him.” I think that “moving slower than a turtle” could be replaced with something more original. That would help add to the (seemingly) youthful and spontaneous tone—just something fresh, that no one has heard before, just to keep us on our toes.

Terronique Brown's "She Hangs"

Reflections on: Terronique Brown’s “She Hangs”

The language of this poem is beautiful. The first section, where the title “She Hangs” originates, depicts a woman, likened to fruit on a tree, who is “Externally…nourishing,” yet rotting on the interior. This is an interesting image, which (once again) makes me think of the short story, "Flowering Judas" by Katherine Anne Porter—the ending of which depicts a dream scene in which biting into a large purple fruit brings forth an outpouring of blood. It’s human fruit—that can only be dangerous. We get the same feel from Brown’s poem, here. She sees this image, and her only response is “[I] can only imagine smashing her / into the earth, grinding her into the grass / beneath my bare feet.” This is a gruesome image—one that is not forgotten lightly. This image is the one that clings to our memory as we continue to read the rest of the poem, which is “Warped…” to another world, image, and tone—entirely unlike the one to which we have just been exposed. The second part of the poem is effective, not so much through its use of biting imagery, but rather through its repetition of an almost chorus-like few lines. Each time the writer uses this tool, the poem takes a turn. I think this is a very effective technique.

I like the language of the poem, but I think (in some parts) it could use some tightening up. For example, on the second page, the word “that” occurs twice in the same line: “That blends with that unknown light.” If the “that”s were being used for a bigger reason, then I completely agree with them being there, but I couldn’t see it. Another thing I would like to see in this poem is more of that metaphor ability that we know our poet is capable of. The line “They robotically drone on and on” is clear, true, but I think that just coming right out and saying “robot” (or whatever word you want to apply here) in place of the word “they” could be very potent. I also don’t really know what to do with the second-person address in this poem. I don’t think that I, personally, have “accepted their phony teachings / And praised their so called prophecies.” I understand that the writer intends to knock us off of our feet, but I don’t particularly like being called blind. Perhaps the “you” of the poem addresses a specific “you,” but that is not what I gathered from the text. I guess the wording of the second person will have to be a decision on the author’s part. I just want to bring it to her attention that it (if kept like this, exactly) may turn some readers off—which might be the intent. I don’t know.

Also...

Also from Mairs, who I just read for my Writing and Healing class, is this fabulous description of one of her editors. I want this to be me:

"fresh, amused, energetic, supportive, open to quirky ideas, quick to praise" (VL 107)

On Tests:

This is totally unrelated to anything, but I just found this wonderful quote:

Examinations visit the misery of one generation on the next--the scholarly equivalent of hazing. They invite students to exibit work that, produced under adverse circumstances involving anxiety, lack of resources, limited time, and mental and physical exaustion, falls short of their best, and they force students to accept judgements based on that hastilly conceived and frantically scribbled or uttered work. Meditation, reflection, revision--the essential elements of solid intellectual production--are deliberately debarred.
(Mairs, Voice Lessons 31-32)

"Perdition" by Tyler Baily

I really like the fact that Tyler's poem, "Perdition," is set up like a ballad. I wasn't really expecting to see anything like this, so that was exciting. After I got the original idea of "Hmmm...this seems like a ballad," I looked up the definition in one of my texts and this is what I found: "A literary ballad is a narrative poem that is written in deliberate imitation of the language, form, and spirit of the traditional ballad." Traditional ballads, of course, originate from oral tradition, which are passed down from generation to generation. The rhyme scheme and meter served to help people remember the poem without writing it down. Ballads generally follow a specific rhyme and meter: most ballads are composed of four line stanzas, "consisting of alternating eight- and six-syllable lines." And the rhyme scheme is generally in an abcb pattern.

I think the first three lines (that make up the first sentence) of Tyler's poem have a very melodic quality to them, that pulled me in and then immediately made me think of a ballad (that was before I looked up the actual rhyme scheme and meter that is typically associated with ballads). So, in this way, it is a very effective introduction. Another thing I really like about this poem is the story aspect. I like that it follows a third-person narration (which also makes it very ballad-like). One thing I noticed was the fact that in line 32, the word "rode" is used in place of "road." I wonder if this is intentional or a typo. I would like to think that it was intended to have a specific meaning, but I really can't tell. If it was, then that's a cool idea, but maybe it should be better emphasized. I think this poem has a lot going for it, but I would like to see a revision.

One thing that I think would be mega-cool would be getting the poem into actual ballad form, since that is what the content is. I realize this kind of work is a serious undertaking that is really difficult. It's hard to have a regular meter and rhyme scheme and make it sound believable. So maybe that won't work. I also wonder if breaking the poem up into stanzas could help illustrate the passing of time better. One idea that might be cool by itself is the part where, "Silently / She waited as the hours / Rolled by / Waiting, watching / For her beloved." Isolating this thought would give the reader more of a feeling of "waiting." Another idea for a revision is to simply clean up the language. For example, getting rid of some of those little words will help add drama to the action. The poem now reads:

He rode off into the night
Into the dark and out of sight
Promising to return
He raced
Out into the wood.

The word "into" is in this sentence three different times. Cleaning up the language would just give the poem better flow and help keep the reader sitting at the edge of his/her seat. Look at how using only some of the same exact words changes the scene:

He rode off in the night
Into dark, out of sight.

That's just an idea, of course, and it's not exactly what the author has written. Another thing I noticed, that could use a little bit of tightening up, is the fact that the first half of the poem has shorter, more concise lines than the latter half. If the writer intended this shift, then maybe the reader should have some sort of clue, like a stanza break, or some other type of division--just so that it looks more organized and intentional. Another question I have is, exactly why does the unnamed man have to leave his mistress? I'm thinking that he's got some sort of date with the devil--some sort of alliance --due to his being a "lover of women and cards." I would like this to be a little clearer. And I am also having a difficult time understanding the line, "He sat in anguish." Is "he" the unnamed man? Why is he just sitting? Where is he? And why did he leave if he knew that "the cursed hour was nigh," that his mistress would be killed? I guess what I want is to know the motivations of the characters, particularly the motivation of the unnamed man.

My Second Poem

Okay, this one is a lot more literal and easy to understand. I have titled it "Bananas" but I'm not sure I like that. I have also jokingly called it "Fruit of the Womb" which I think is hilarious, appropriate to the subject matter, but totally the wrong tone--unfortunately. Haha. Okay, here it is:

Bananas
by Erin E. Curley

How about a snack
She said twisting off the red lid
and laying it down,
upside down,
on the counter next to the coffee pot.
She pulled out a butter knife,
the little rose embossed
in the handle glinted
the light of the afternoon
sun gleaming.
Grab two bananas,
She said walking
with the knife and open jar
of peanut butter
to the old squeaky yellow couch.
We sat,
She and me, facing
each other
crossed-legged, peeling
bananas half-way.
One for you, one for me
She said sliding a scoop
onto mine then hers
and taking a bite.
We chewed slowly,
the lingering joy
of sweet salty smooth
bringing smiles
to our lips.
I know why you like these
She said dabbing another drag
through the jar on one
then the other.
We’ve shared it from the start
She said gleaming.

Okay, this is a "poem" that's kinda based on my mom. It's totally cheezy, but that's always my problem with poetry. I just can't write good poetry. I guess it's not really my thing. I am totally prepared to have this thing ripped to shreds during workshop, and I am okay with that. I actually do like some of the language, and how it sounds outloud. I was really careful with punctuation and little knit-picky things like capitalization. I also tried to have it sound like poetry--I tried to use a lot of aliteration to give the poem a specific pace. My problem is content. How do you write something that doesn't sound like a seventh grader wrote it???? I guess I will get some help.