[Rose Kelleher]

I'll Call Him Art

Art is undone. His chair's askew. His eyes,
his eyes are locked with mine. His look is raw,
mascara running, caught by small-town law,
the bible belt, bewildered parents' sighs.

Art is a man-child boy-girl compromise,
sitting between his farmer maw and paw,
here in the sheriff's office, Satan's claw.
Art holds the Word of God, holds back his cries.

I'm helpless, Art, to save you, where we are.
I try to say all this with one quick glance
before I go. Let's both go, shed the scar
of twisted stares. Let's cut and run. Let's dance.
You'll tell me all about it in the car.
Coyote-howl away the circumstance.

blank
blank
blank

I almost didn't post this one, partly because it was discussed so recently in TDE, and partly because I have a couple of minor problems with it. It got under my skin, though, and in the end I couldn't not post it.

This poet drives me crazy sometimes with her metrical intolerance; she often seems to place too high a priority on sound at the expense of, well, everything else. The payoff is that her verse has a songlike quality. This poet contributed the only poem on the Lilt website that's written in iambic pentameter. This one lilts, too, and between that and the pathos -- the "raw" look in those mascaraed eyes, that heart-tugging "I'm helpless" -- it's burned itself into my memory. This despite the fact that I hate "shed the scar" and am not crazy about "circumstance." I think it's the overall effect that matters.



[This message has been edited by Rose Kelleher (edited June 21, 2008).]

[John Whitworth]

Heavens! I think 'circumstance' is one of the finest things in this very fine sonnet. I don't know whether the writer had this quotation from G.K. Chesterton in mind (probably not) but I'll copy it in nevertheless. It's the last sentence of 'The Purple Wig' in The Wisdom of Father Brown'.

As Miss Barlow rattled away cheerfully, he crumpled up the copy and tossed it into the waste paper basket; but not before he had, automatically and by mere force of habit, altered the word 'God' to the word 'circumstances'.

[Golias]

I wish to register agreement with your subjective appraisal, Rose, and even more emphatically. The points which bother you a little don't trouble me in the least. Conveyed by the sestet is a frantic, a nearly desperate impluse to rescue, at almost any risk, the tragic figure pictured so dramatically in the octet.

In poetry as in life, I hold with Søren Kirkegård who wrote that subjectivity is the only truth. For me, the emotional impact of this poem is unmitigated. I don't care how it complies with or varies from tenets of form which might influence an objectively-minded critic in judging its success or failure. It succeeds powerfully.

G/W



[This message has been edited by Golias (edited May 07, 2008).]

[Alexander Grace]

I like this one a lot.

'I try to say all this with one quick glance'

This is the killer for me, the line that says 'this was exactly as I say it was'. I love the last line too, 'circumstance' and all.

Wasn't wholly sure about 'Art holds the Word of God, holds back his cries.'.

Yes, it's a fine sonnet, written no doubt by a fine human being.

Alex

[Tim Murphy]

In its first draft I thought this unpromising and dumped on it. So did the EfH. But the writer worked harder on it than I've ever seen a sonnet worked at the Deep End, and it is very fine now. I still dislike the last line.

[Rose Kelleher]

Okay, I take it back, John and Alex. You've talked me into liking "circumstance."


[This message has been edited by Rose Kelleher (edited May 07, 2008).]

[grasshopper]

The sonnet strikes me as being very Artful from the start. I can't see the reason for the repeat of 'his eyes' for instance, or who or what 'Satan's claw' is exactly.

But my main problem is that the last line seems to belong in another poem altogether. The short sentences and clipped conjunctions provide a tone that's informal rather than formal. But in the final line it feels like the author sets the poetickal amplifier up to 11, and it doesn't work for me.

Regards, Maz

[Anne Bryant-Hamon]

I also don't know what 'Satan's claw' means. I basically don't understand this poem. I've read it a number of times and always come away wondering what the main point is. Most likely, I'm just not bright enough to get it.

Anne

[R. Nemo Hill]

A triumph of empathy, this one, for me. If Satan's claw seems overstated for some--it should be remembered that the Long-Arm-Of-The Law looks quite different from a distance than when it is reaching out for <u>you</u>: close-up I don't see why, subjectively speaking, it can't appear to have The Devil's Fingers. This is one of those walk-a-mile-in-my-shoes tropes, and yet the voice of the poem walks in those shoes so naturally that it can get away with a certain degree of archetypal exaggeration.

As for the last line, I think it pitch perfect. There is something about acknowledging the neutral fact of "circumstance" in individual fate that keeps the poem from seeming to judge anyone involved in the scenario too harshly. That howl is for all involved: Maw Paw, Law, and Art!

Heroic!

Nemo

[This message has been edited by R. Nemo Hill (edited May 07, 2008).]

[peter richards]

<A HREF="http://web.archive.org/web/20050305223250/http://www.ctaz.com/~dmn1/hein.htm" TARGET=_blank>There is one art,
no more, no less:
to do all things
with artlessness</A>

That might imply looking for a church to fart in, I suppose, but hey...