[Alex Pepple]

Red Grapes


   What fruit arrays by Whole Foods doorway:
   bristled coconuts, quince, plums, gourmet
figs, melons, vermilion mangoes,
freckled bananas, then long rows
   of red grapes—with eight thousand years
   of ripening as our picnic nears,
clustered and waiting for our lunch,
stroked smooth in store ritual, each bunch
   beneath fluorescent’s gemlike shine.
   Here glows what ancients deemed divine.
Your teeth will pierce the plump delight,
your tongue will purple bite by bite.
   Barefoot in wine dance, maidens pressed
   the vintage. Gods and mortals blessed
this fruit—from Olympian feast
to corner market, west to east,
   the same dark juice that quickened blood
   in pharaohs will flow like a flood
across your lips in springtime rush
when vows refresh your lipstick’s blush.

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


~~~First revision ~~~

Red Grapes


   What fruit arrays bedeck Whole Foods;
   from bristled coconuts, more goods
throng: melons, vermillion mangoes,
freckled bananas, then the rows
   of red grapes, with eight thousand years
   of culture ripen as our picnic nears
in hours with these clusters for lunch.
Rubbed smooth by store hands, with each bunch
   in fluorescence that gems its shine.
   Here gleams what ancients deemed divine.
Your teeth will pierce them in sweet rite,
your tongue will stain red bite by bite.
   The barefoot maids, in wine dance, pressed
   the vintage. Gods and mortals blessed
this fruit—from Olympian feast
to corner market, west to east,
   the same dark juice that quickened blood
   in pharaohs will flow like a flood
across your lips as spring breathes thick
in vows refreshed by your red lipstick.

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


~~~Original version ~~~

Red Grapes


     What fruit arrays bedeck Whole Foods;
     from bristled coconuts, more goods
throng: melons, vermillion mangoes,
freckled bananas, then the rows
     of red grapes, with eight thousand years,
     ripened through culture for our cheers,
prime clusters for our picnic lunch.
Rubbed smooth, with each translucent bunch
     in fluorescence that gems its shine,
     here gleams what ancients deemed divine.
Your teeth will pierce them in sweet rite,
your tongue stained purple bite by bite.
     The barefoot maids, in wine dance, pressed
     the vintage. Gods and mortals blessed
this fruit—from Olympian feast
to corner market, west to east,
     the same dark juice that quickened blood
     in pharaohs flows now like a flood
across your lips. Spring air breathes thick,
vows refreshed by your red lipstick.

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Alex—

Your paean to the red grape has some nice sensory appeal, but I had a few questions.

First, I wondered if the serrated left margin is necessary. The rhymed couplets provide structure, and the two uneven margins give the poem a rather amorphous appearance.

Second, I wondered if the first four lines were necessary. As a signpost, they advertise the scope of the poem as celebrating all fruits, but from lines 4-20 you focus on the red grape.

Third, a few lines are difficult to wrangle into tetrameter. I was able to scan line 3 as headless iamb, trochee, iamb, amphibrach. I was able to scan line 20 as headless iamb, iamb, anapest, trochee. But no matter how I tried, lines 9 and 15 were trimeter: Line 9 is anapest, anapest, iamb, and line 15 is iamb, anapest, anapest.

A few expressions seemed either non-idiomatic or rhyme driven:
Line 6: “for our cheers” doesn’t strike me as something that someone would actually say.
Line 11: “in sweet rite” Is there really a rite or ceremony for eating table grapes?
Line 19: “Spring air breathes thick” Aren’t grapes harvested in fall? In the image it sounds like the air is breathing rather than the celebrants. Did you mean it in the sense one might say, “This Scotch drinks smooth?”

The last rhyme is a bit wrenched. Are you pronouncing “lipstick” as a spondee? (I hear it as a trochee.)

I wondered if putting “translucent” and “fluorescent” in adjacent lines was more confusing than illuminating. “Translucent” makes sense, since grapes are semi-transparent, but I think of “fluorescence” as something requiring a black light. I like the idea of comparing them to gems. Could you construct a metaphor here that captures the exact quality of light you imagine? Maybe something like:
Rubbed smooth, with each translucent bunch
as clusters of polished garnets (or rubies, or amber) shine,

I hope some of this is helpful.

Glenn

[Alessio Boni]

Hi Alex,

This poem is good, although I mostly took it as a satirical piece which is what you intended right?

It gives me a sort of remembrance towards Anacreontic odes, but of course with a modern touch ridiculing the entire 'culture' behind those bacchic celebrations of his, which, as suggested by your poem, can now be felt by literally anyone, unlike then. Its a good duality of encapsulating his hedonistic rhetoric with the grapes, to then debase it to a common usance in our age.

L14 - 16 communicate this duality the best in my opinion.

I would add though, that the final two verses, starting from "Spring air breathes thick.." could be removed, as I think it kind of drags the poem by a scene which isn't as strong as the prior one, diluting the potence of the sheer immensity of these resources (wine and grapes being for everyone). If you removed it then the strong reflective image of a richness turned commodity would be even stronger as the 'wine freely flows!' You could also keep the half verse "across your lips." as I think it truly gives the final touch and allows the reader to know we can truly SAVOUR such, and of course it concludes the sentence.

Just my opinion, hope this helps!!

Cheers,

Alessio.

[Alex Pepple]

Thanks, Glenn and Alessio for your close attention to the poem. A revision is up now, and hopefully, is an improvement.

Glenn, while the indents honors rhyme pairs, its primary motivation is shape (poem) mimetic of the clusters. I was somewhat surprised at your take on the initial lines of setting, and then on closer inspection, I realized that there were some tense mismatches that might have brought that assessment about. Now, the tense has been corrected throughout. Also, some metrical tweaks have also been applied—thanks for pointing that out.

Alessio, thanks for analysis and take. While that’s a surprising reading for me, I can also see how you arrived at it. Hopefully, the edits provide a bit more clarity to the poem.

Again thank you both for looking in, and hopefully, the new version is an improvement!

Cheers,
…Alex

[Richard G]

Hi Alex,

I enjoyed the poem's exuberance but it seemed to take a bit too long to get into its stride.

What fruit arrays bedeck Whole Foods;
Sets up an expectation of plenty that the next three lines don't deliver. And, for me, any list of fruits is going to be judged against "Goblin Market". Could you skip listing them and simply have your eyes drawn to L4?

L6, are you missing a comma after 'culture'?

in hours with these clusters for lunch.
This nudged me out of the poem, and what is 'in hours' bringing?

Rubbed smooth by store hands, with each bunch
in fluorescence that gems its shine.
Are they really rubbed smooth by store hands? And do you need the observation? Is it supposed to contrast with the barefoot maids?

Here gleams what ancients deemed divine.
And here's where the poem hits its stride.

Your teeth will pierce them in sweet rite,
your tongue will stain red bite by bite.
Given the earlier vermilion, 'red' rather limps in.

The barefoot maids, in wine dance, pressed
the vintage. Gods and mortals blessed
this fruit—from Olympian feast
'This fruit' makes it feel like you've reversed the order (pressed/blessed) somehow.

in pharaohs will flow like a flood
Very nice.

across your lips as spring breathes thick
in vows refreshed by your red lipstick.
I agree with Glenn on the mismatched stress of thick/lipstick (and also think the repetition of 'red' is weak.)


RG

[Alex Pepple]

Thanks, Richard, for your detailed and thoughtful critique. Your points about pacing and word choices were particularly helpful—I've made several revisions that I hope address your concerns about the opening momentum and some of the repetitive elements you flagged.

The thick/lipstick stress issue you and Glenn both noted has been reworked, and I've tried to tighten some of the phrasing throughout. I appreciate your close attention to the craft elements—it's exactly the kind of feedback that helps push a poem toward its best version.

A revised version is posted now. Thanks again for the careful read!

Cheers,
…Alex

[Duncan Gillies MacLaurin]

This is such a load of pompous, antique crap.

Duncan

[Jim Ramsey]

Hi Alex,

This is improving step by step, but to me the first half of the poem does not read as smoothly as the second now does. Some lines read too much as if they are trying to mask their search for rhymes by using creative wording. For instance, “Gems its shine” clunks imo. I think some punctuation changes could add clarity. Here are some ideas to consider:

The fruit arrays bedeck Whole Foods.
Past the bristled coconuts, more goods
throng: melons, vermillion mangoes,
freckled bananas. Then, the rows
of red grapes, with eight thousand years
of culture, ripen as our picnic nears.
In hours, one cluster will dress up lunch.
Misted, gems on display, each bunch
jewel-like beneath fluorescent shine,
here gleams what ancients deemed divine………..

All the best,
Jim

[Richard G]

Hi Alex,

are you missing an apostrophe in L1? Whole Foods' doorway
and (L2) should quince be plural?

The list of fruits is an improvement but I think could still be stronger.
bristled coconuts, ripening/dewy plums, gourmet
figs, quinces, melons, vermilion mangoes,
freckled bananas, then long rows

then long rows - What is lacking, for me, is a sense that N was actively searching for the grapes rather than just observing they were next on the list.

clustered and waiting for our lunch,
stroked smooth in store ritual, each bunch
I think you could swap the order of these two lines.

beneath fluorescent’s gemlike shine.
I agree with Jim (regarding clunkiness.) Also this seems too much like filler now.
Here glows what ancients deemed divine.
Again, these might be a bit more interesting if swapped. But I think more description of the grapes is needed.
A passing thought (I know you've 'dark' later so take as a jumping off point ... or not.)
stroked smooth in store ritual, each bunch
of wine-dark pearls do gemlike shine.
Here glows what ancients deemed divine.

I think the delight/bite by bite couplet is in the wrong place and might (with some tweaking) work better at the end.

Maidens, barefoot in wine dance, did press
the vintage. And Gods and mortals bless
this fruit—from Olympian feast
to corner market, west to east,
the same dark juice that quickened blood
in pharaohs will flow like a flood
across your lips in springtime rush
when vows refresh your lipstick’s blush.
and teeth have pierced the plump delight,
your tongue will purple bite by bite.

Becoming puzzled by west to east (can't join these particular dots.)

RG