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  #11  
Old 07-08-2018, 08:37 AM
Jim Moonan Jim Moonan is offline
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Relief on many fronts! Jayne came back and was still satisfied. David was pleased. Mark came back with reconsidered understanding.... Maybe I’m headed in the right direction.

Jayne, thanks for saying just enough to rouse me out of my unfocused drivelling (my word, not yours!) of unconnected imagery. This comment of your made me laugh out loud and still does:

“and the prison bit seemed a bit out of place.”

(Where did that prisoner stanza come from??? )

I did have way too many eggs in the poem! I was just attempting to use repetition as a way of trying that line out in different scenarios. That line and the bacon line is the backbone of the poem, I think.
It occured to me that I should either formalize the poem more as a villanelle or work the meter and rhyme and turn it into something metrically comprehensible, but I didn’t know where to begin. So I took the other route and instead boiled it down to a few images that were more tied together than in the original. Still a ways to go, maybe.

John, is the revision any better for you? The difficulty you have with my writing may be more a matter of style than subject for you. I hope the revision brings it into better focus. FWIW, the prisoner stanza in the original, I think, was borne from your recent “Vic” poem, which struck me deep, as most of your poetry can do.

David, I’m glad that it worked as a kind of antidote to 120 minutes of WCF. Life is a balancing act : ) I am going for “day-glo” in a diffused kind of way. Funny, lately I’ve been re-visiting the psychedelic songs/lyrics of John Lennon -- Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, Strawberry Fields, I Am the Walrus -- and I guess it rubbed off on me.
I absolutely love that it came bursting off the page for you. I do think it still needs shaping and sharpening as you said, but I’m glad it seems to be going in the right direction.

Mark, before I could respond to your initial reaction you came back with more, so I’ll respond a little to both. I think your poetry is full of visceral images and thoughts. For now, I’m not writing particularly visceral poems. I don’t know why not. I am in fact a “gut” kind of guy. I’m emotional. But my poetry lately has been coming out in an abstract, metaphoric way. Even I am surprised by it! I think you always prod me to keep a short leash on my imagery and abstractions, which has a grounding effect on me, so thank you for that. I will eventually move away from all this superfluous expression and boil things down.

Much of this is not a simple accounting, but mixed with things imagined from what I see (like most of what I write lately). But it’s not made up from thin air. It is the mix of what I’m seeing, hearing, etc. with what it triggers in my imagination. For example, these lines:

From Hingham Bay floats a heady smell
of salt blending with scallop shell.


Came from two separate things: I was at the bay sitting drinking coffee (iced) on a terribly hot day and could smell the shells. (Hmmm, come to think of it, perhaps I should marry the smells of coffee and scallop shells…) Later, I took the dogs for a swim at a dog park. Along the path there are honeysuckle bushes that are now blooming and the smell permeates the air for a stretch. I put those two things together into one image, albeit clumsily. (Hmmm….. coffee….. scallop shells….)

As for what is “pastiche” about this, I knew that would come up… I am hoping at the very least it’s a pleasing play with words -- pastel/pastiche -- both sonically and in the odd similarity/disparity of the two words side by side. I just liked the sound of it.
But I can’t get away with it on that alone… By pastiche I mean a hodgepodge of pastel-like images created by the haze built up over days of heat and humidity here. I realize that pastiche implies imitations of an art form and that’s a bit of a stretch. I think I need to infuse more pastel-like imagery and evoke something of a pastiche if I’m going to get away with it, I suppose.

I did give some thought to it being an ekphrastic. Maybe it works as an ekphrastic of the pastiche that is the hot humid world appearing as painted in pastels. I think in a way it is an ekphrastic of the art that is nature. But again, I could be asking for too much.
x

Matt, saw you posted but I was in the middle of this (long-winded) response -- I'll reply shortly : ) Thanks!
x

Last edited by Jim Moonan; 07-08-2018 at 01:27 PM.
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  #12  
Old 07-08-2018, 11:25 AM
Bill Dyes Bill Dyes is offline
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Default Pastel Pastiche Day

Jim;

I like the sounds in this. The rhyme adds a pleasant rhythm layer to the sound
The poem seems to want to mimic verbally how a painting works on us visually, hence the pastiche.
The poem does not do much more than that but I don't have any serious problems with that.
Your attention to sound becomes even more diligent in your revision.
I must say I found the introduction of the prison in the original quite interesting. It launched possibilities.
I think you could have kept it in and sill shortened the piece quite a bit.
It could have been a disturbance in the sound and the vision in some way.
It would have scarred the day more than the Ďbacon strip horizoní.

Good work,
Bill
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Old 07-09-2018, 06:58 AM
Jim Moonan Jim Moonan is offline
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Bill, thanks. You're reading it as I had hoped it would be read. I think the key phrase in your comment was, "The poem seems to want to mimic verbally how a painting works on us visually, hence the pastiche."

I wish... If this were an ekphrastic or a true pastiche I would be happier with it. But itís neither. This might not be kosher to do here and may elicit a ďwtfĒ feeling from anyone who has taken the time to comment, but Iíve soured on this one. I see a whole lot of things I donít like about this poem. It just doesnít hold up over closer examination and repeated readings for me. I donít particularly like many of the word choices (lumbering clouds, green grass, pounced, etc.), donít like the some of the (forced) rhymes, donít like the general feel of juvenilia that emanates from it. Nothing seems to cohere any longer to my ear. If it were a bonafide poetic burst of images and sonic fireworks that would be one thing. But it only feigns to be to my ear now. It lives and dies with the title. Thereís very little to back it up. It is artifice.To make matters worse, the poem is, ironically, when looked at from a certain perspective, a pastiche of my own poetry as compared to more accomplished poetry. Jokeís on me.

Iíll try again to make something from this. (The word ďpasticheĒ is beginning to hound me. It could be the heat.)
x
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  #14  
Old 07-09-2018, 07:32 AM
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Jayne Osborn Jayne Osborn is offline
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Hey Jim,

You're being way too hard on yourself! Don't give up on this

I like the tiger stalking and pouncing, as I said earlier (though I've just noticed that ''of'' is missing from pounces on top us with pelting drops

(If you still feel as you've just indicated, why not put this to one side for the time being, and come back to it later, with a fresh take on it?)

Jayne
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  #15  
Old 07-09-2018, 09:28 AM
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Jan Iwaszkiewicz Jan Iwaszkiewicz is offline
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As I come to the first line Jim, my eye drops and sees the coming rhyme on L2 and I am hit with the sound of six beat accentual, mid point caesura and marvellously musical, clashing stresses. What a wonderful first line and then I am let down by the second.

I want the rest of the poem to live up to that first line. It does not have to be totally orderly the number of stresses per line can vary e.g. these beautiful lines reminiscent of Noel Coward:

No one goes out in the clouded light.
No one goes out in the wilting shade.


and then in:
All quiet, but the sound of hiss and tread
of tires against the hot tar bed.


the finish of three clashing stresses echoing L1 but as in L1 and L2, L7 an L8 do not echo each other metrically and, to me, it jars.

In L10 again the ending of the line in three clashing stresses.

L11 and L12 end in strong three beats

Again, to me, this is begging to be turned into a het. accentual piece as there are so many strains of music bursting forth.

I think that quite a bit of the baby went out with the bathwater in the edit.

I want the swoon of loons and the gaggling geese, I am greedy there is so much that I like.

Regards,

Jan
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  #16  
Old 07-09-2018, 10:42 AM
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Mary Meriam Mary Meriam is offline
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Hi Jim, I quite like the original (without the edits). There are enough lines between mentions of the "yolk sun" that it seems fresh each time. The poem seems to be in part a meditation on the differences between indoors and outdoors. There's an animistic quality in the poem, with landscape/art as food or animals. It's a sensual, complex, and playful poem. I don't have any nits yet because I need to read it a few more times, over a few days.

The alliteration here is fine and makes "billowing" new:

Blurry flurry of clouds swirl, billowing by.

I have no problem with incomplete sentences - it's interesting - and what assonance!:

I, alone, gazing at the day twining yellow and gray
ribbons of heat and silken haze.


EDIT: couple more reads later....
I love this poem, and only have a couple of nits.

Why is "Inside" capped? If it's a new sentence, there should be a stop after "eye."

I see with another eye
Inside the prison, innocents


This is like rap - love it -
I hear slumping gardens, drained of their clarity,
whimper like souls begging for charity.




The stormfront approaches like a tiger.
In the grimy heat the rain comes down
pouring creamy caramel brown
drops, pelting ancient stones smooth, round.
The big yolk sun washes away.

I'd end it there, delete these lines, and give the poem a new title:

A bacon strip horizon scars the day,
the apparitional pastel pastiche day.

Last edited by Mary Meriam; 07-09-2018 at 07:01 PM.
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  #17  
Old 07-16-2018, 03:58 PM
Jim Moonan Jim Moonan is offline
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Revision posted.
I had one more go at this hoping to give it some cohesion that the first and second versions lacked.

I think it needs to sit for a while. It's not done. Thank you all for giving this a chance. Any final comments are welcomed.

Pastiche!
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  #18  
Old 07-24-2018, 07:20 AM
Jim Moonan Jim Moonan is offline
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Before this dropped I looked again and felt it changing again, so I revised accordingly. I think it is more of a portraiture than before, which is what I was going for to begin with.
Revision posted.
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  #19  
Old 07-25-2018, 09:45 AM
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Mary Meriam Mary Meriam is offline
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(Jim, never put your poems in any color except black - anywhere.)

Again, I don't think your revisions are improving the poem. I love the leaps and movement of the original (without those two edits and the last two lines, and needs a new title). The stanzas, lines, and words all seem to be in exactly the right place. As one example, look at the tiger part. It's much stronger in the original - its directness and concision is very fine. The revisions seem sloppy and overdone in comparison.

original:
The stormfront approaches like a tiger.

revisions:
The stormfront looms, stalks like a tiger,
pounces on top us with pelting drops


(the breakfast sky has been eaten by the tiger)
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  #20  
Old 07-25-2018, 08:04 PM
Jim Moonan Jim Moonan is offline
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(Jim, never put your poems in any color except black - anywhere.)

I didn't think anyone would notice : )
(I agree. It looks ridiculous.)

I'm certain it is not perfect (the original) but what it does do perfectly is represent where I am in my development and that is worth more than the lipstick I'm putting on this in the guise of revision.
Thanks, Mary. A million thanks.
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