[Jim Moonan]

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Dammit! Tricked into liking another sonnet. (I love to hate sonnets.)

Putting aside my (partial) failure to understand the symbolism (Munch and Ibsen) that threads the poem, I am dazzled by the hallucinogenic quality of the imagery. I can't help but suspect the sapling as being something/someone other than a tree but I get nowhere by thinking that.

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I wonder if hell should be capitalized?

I also wonder if you need to mention Munch and Ibsen specifically. Sometimes it seems like too easy a way of invoking something. Unless it's intrinsic to the poem's intent it could be construed as an easy way to convey something without having to say it in your own words. I'd like L12 to be the opening line.

L9-11 are the transforming part for me.

As for the mechanics/metrics/form of the poem, it's all invisible to me, which is the way it should be, imo — Although in my case the invisibility is due to my relative ignorance of such things. This poem flows. That's all I knows : )

The poem expresses the mindset of a painter who is searching for a vision to render something unique from something ordinary. It conjures atmosphere in order to transform the subject to be worthy of painting. But the poem is not written. The painting remains blank. The commission unearned. Instead, the poem stands on its own as an interior view of a painter's dilemma: how to deliver something of artistic value in order to earn a commission. It's an interesting dilemma.

It's a weird poem in all the ways a poem should be: phrasing, imagery, atmospherics. It always depends largely on my mood when coming to read a poem. Mornings are almost always best for me, but evenings can surprise me, too. This morning I woke up to the news that one of my grandkids was taken to the emergency room for trouble breathing. I waited in suspense for an update. It turned out to be croup and he got a steroid shot to help him recover. He's fine. I breathed easy. That's the way I came to this poem. It's something that all poems are subject to: where is the reader coming from at the moment they read the poem? Will they take the time to squeeze the juice from it? I don't know if I'm the perfect reader for this poem, but I get enough to quench my thirst for visions. And it was tonic for my tense heart.

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[Rick Mullin]

Hi Carl,

Thanks. But doesn't the grammatical logic of "hide the ball and find it" serve as an example of how "it" refers to the sky? There is, of course, a great deal of resistance, logically, to any notion of digging a sky up... unless you're talking about a painted sky on a painting in progress.

Thanks for your generous interpretation, Jim. Yes, name dropping can be annoying, and usually turns me off as a reader. I'm considering how it's working here. Munch as a painter, I'm thinking, is important because I want his landscapes and paintings of trees (especially among his later paintings) to set the stage. With Ibsen, I get a similar psychological portrait, but also a second name drop. So... I'm thinking about it.

Rick

[Carl Copeland]

Originally Posted by Rick Mullin

But doesn't the grammatical logic of "hide the ball and find it" serve as an example of how "it" refers to the sky?

You’re right that both the grammar and the parallelism of the phrases point to “sky” as the antecedent of “it,” but logically it’s so improbable that readers will bend over backwards to find something else. I wavered between “grass” and “stalk,” and Glenn also considered the linden row, but the sky never occurred to either of us. How would you understand “I’ll put on my pajamas to wash the dishes and wear them to bed”? “Bury” would help, I think, simply because “bury” and “dig up” are a more natural pair, like “hide” and “find,” but you’d have to stomach the trochaic inversion.

[Rick Mullin]

Thanks Carl,

I realize this is kind of obnoxious, but I like it when readers will bend over backwards to find something else. That's kind of what I mean by ambiguity. I at least want them to recognize that grammatically, the sky is it. I'm digging in, I know..... I appreciate your coming back.

Rick

[Rick Mullin]

Another thing that I should mention, Carl, is that the closely related "dig it out" is a familiar phrase meaning something like "go hard", usually employed by a coach prompting an athlete to run faster or something like that. It can be applied to painting. I first commented here misremembering the line. I may change it from dig it up to dig it out.

I did.

[Jim Moonan]

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Originally Posted by Rick Mullin

Hi Carl,
Yes, name dropping can be annoying, and usually turns me off as a reader. I'm considering how it's working here. Munch as a painter, I'm thinking, is important because I want his landscapes and paintings of trees (especially among his later paintings) to set the stage. With Ibsen, I get a similar psychological portrait, but also a second name drop. So... I'm thinking about it.

Rick

You may have stumbled on a possible path to an alternative:

"Munch as a painter, I'm thinking, is important because I want his landscapes and paintings of trees (especially among his later paintings) to set the stage."

...as a painter... I want... landscapes... of trees... to set the stage.

(Stage = Ibsen)

Commission to Paint the Stage

Don't mind me. Just brewing...

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[Carl Copeland]

Originally Posted by Rick Mullin

Hi Carl,
Yes, name dropping can be annoying ...

For the record, the discussion of name dropping was between Rick and Jim, not me.