This sonnet by Mike Alexander is not eligible to win the Bakeoff (it's just been published in an anthology, in April). I really love it, however, so have decided to abuse my position as Bakeoff Host to post it here. (Don't blame Mike; this was all my idea.) It won't be included in the official twelve. I'm merely posting it because I think (1) it deserves to be read; and (2) there are people who need to read it. (And if all this is so confusing and annoying that I'm never asked to host another Bakeoff, well, then, my plan is working.)


the sirens answer

You filled your ears with sealing wax, sailed
within an inch of transcendental song,
a glory coveted as one among
the numbered wonders of the sea: fish-tailed,

we bared our human breasts as we regaled
your vessel with our singing, singing long
through your prosaic skulls. You did us wrong
to claim in your accounts our shanties failed.

Although you dulled our melodies to keep
what arguments you treasured most intact,
our musicking is subtler & deep

enough to wash away the dregs of fact--
we sing your darkest voyage as you sleep,
until you wake, eyes leaking, voices cracked.

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I bet Mark Allinson will like this one as much as I do. Not just because it's mythical and evocative and Petrarchan and all that good stuff, but because it's also an ars poetica of sorts, and it relates to one of his favorite soapbox issues. Poetry workshops seem to attract a lot of literal-minded folk, and some of the nitpicking that goes on can be rather point-missing. I'm not exempting myself; as a former technical writer, I'm one of those who occasionally need reminding that reason isn't everything, that poetry can work on a subconscious level, and everything need not be spelled out as in a legal document or computer manual.

Of course, that's just one possible interpretation of this poem. There are others that work equally well, which is nice; and which, in a way, brings me back to my original interpretation.

Yes, I do like it, Rose - you're right!

I read it as the sirens' (representing Imagination and the deeper psyche) retort to the heroic, fact-obsessed rational mind.

The rational mind has "arguments" but the Imagination has "melodies".

In short, the revenge of poetry over the prosaic "nothing but" rationalists.

Just an aside here - how weird that rationalism takes such pride in its elevated and detached Apollonic judgements, yet every one of those thoughts is generated from a twitching lump of blood-sodden protoplasm squelching away in the clam-bone skull.

I agree with Lawrence:

A man is many things, he is not only a mind.
But in his consciousness, he is two-fold at least;
he is cerebral, intellectual, mental, spiritual,
but he is also instinctive, intuitive, and in touch.

The danger of human consciousness, however, is that the mind can take exception to the non-rational dimension (the siren realm) and split off from it - disown it as "madness". Then the trouble really starts.

It's a fine poem, Rose, and thanks for posting it.

our musicking is subtler & deep
And isn't that just it. The songs we remember may be in another language but we understand them on a level beyond speech. And that is true for poetry as well. There's a trance state where we meet in understanding.
So good, this one.
Janet

Rose,

thank you for breaking the rules. I fully concur with what you say about this deserving to be seen.

It's a clever thing that Mike pulls off here, to my mind the variation in diction - contrasting 'musick' with 'prosaic' mirrors the central theme of the poem - so aptly summarised by Mark and Janet.

Since it was you who started this rule breaking business - can I risk adding to the deliquency by adding a short comment regarding Mike?

He is an unsung hero of the contemporary sonnet world - from 'mission control' in Houston he steadfastly refuses to limit access to Sonnet Central and gives unstinting wise advice to new writers and old hands alike; he is patient with the inept, challenging to the experienced, and tolerant of the barking mad. In all that it's easy to overlook what damn fine poet he is.

Alan

What Alan said. Thanks for being there for us Mike.

Absolutely gorgeous, Mike. Pitch perfect. The more I read it, the more I'm saying wow.

Yes, this is a stunner. I love "subtler & deep" - the way the iambic rhythm that's been sustained throughout causes you to pronounce "subtler" as three syllables - very subtle!

At the end, is that a Prufrock reference? Why is it that no one can write about mermaids without mentioning "waking" toward the end? I swear this is the fifteenth poem I've seen that does it.

In any event, I enjoyed this a ton. It's sort of ironic that the sirens belittle "argument" in this most argumentative of forms. I like that.

What Mary said.

Duncan

This is a poem by an author I admire greatly. He is probably one of the most literate and learned poets around, but that richness of learning is never paraded to demonstrate how much he knows and how clever he is, but in an engaging and unassuming way. His poetry is accomplished, witty and smart, and he has a great ear. His range makes me green with envy.

Not only that, but the time and trouble he takes to help and critique other authors' work is incredible. I'm sure I'm not the only person who has been helped by his detailed and perceptive comments.

I think this is a lovely poem. The classical theme is treated elegantly and with the sure hand that's a feature of his work. I'm grateful to Rose for including it, because I think his work deserves to be better known.

Regards, Maz

Very nice.
I second what others have said about the author.

Stupendous!

Enough to wash away the dregs of fact indeed. And I concur, Rose, that it functions as an ars poetica; and most importantly one that eschews the oft-grating tone of manifesto to sneak up on one: demonstrating rather than merely preaching.

Technically it is also filled with delights, especially the shift at the end of S1 with the colon followed by the single word fish-tailed that creates a little splash in the water just the way a fish breaking the surface does, and draws the attention of the reader across the blank space between stanzas, from the oblique you to the startlingly direct we in a carefully controlled distracting instant. It is only later after several readings that it occurred to me that my surprise at the moment that we emerges from the water-of-words stemmed from the fact of the unconscious realization that I was indeed listening to the sirens' songs with my ear wide open!

Thanks for that opportunity, Mike.

Winner, on the write-in ballot!

Nemo


[This message has been edited by R. Nemo Hill (edited May 06, 2008).]

Grasshopper nails the poet and Nemo the poem.
(That was easy)

Thanks for dragging the cat in, Rose.

RM

Rose et al.

I love "the dregs of fact," but the deeper music is the point. That music is a fine metaphor, aptly launched and brought in to safe harbor at the close. What else would we expect from Mike Alexander?

Best
Lance Levens

First, I should say I almost never attend the soirées here. When Rose invited me to submit, I was unsure if I should, but when she asked for this particular poem, & as long as it would not be entered as a contender for the bake-off, I thought it would be a good way to promo the upcoming sonnet anthology, HANDS LUGGAGE ONLY, which Open Poetry Ltd, is coming out with this month. The book will contain the hundred sonnets that shortlisted the competition held last year, & should be available soon at this link -- http://www.sonnetcompetition.com/

To tell the truth, I blush at the stuff people have said about me here. Thanks, guys & gals. I should bow down & chant, “we are not worthy, we are not worthy.” I am truly happy you think so much of the poem. Thank you.

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