My days are muddynothing clear
boots slipping
and again
the rain comes
I know you would
if you could
-(and i know you have
my private nave) to-
stop the rain
I know you would
stop the should(s)
that much
I gladly
understood
Still, as calf from mother
I feel the part-ing
as this from other
as sister from brother
natural from as hen
to egg
________________
Version 2:
My days are muddy
nothing clear
boots slipping
and again
the rain comes
I know you would
if you could
stop the rain
I know you would
without the should
that much
is (I)
understood (understand)
Still,
as calf from mother
I feel the part-ing
as this from other
I feel the sort-ing
as sister from brother
I feel the mort-ing
natural from
as hen
to egg
15 comments:
Consider this two poems. The first stanza by itself. And the rest of the poem as a muddy mess.
Is there no knotted rope to help steady?
No. None.
Hmm, they both remind me of e.e. cummings, but not a copy, the essence is still you. I like the first one because of the tiny windows in the 2nd and 3rd stanzas. They give the reader a peek of what it is like to be you without thinking about what you are writing. I like the second because of the use of hyphenation in the 4th stanzas. My personal preference is the first version.
I'm embarrassed to say I've not read ee cummings. Perhaps I should.
On Version 2, I'm still pondering whether "I understand" is not better than "is understood."
Mort is used in the linked dual sense of death (latin) and the english usage of the note sounded on a horn when the quarry is killed. Take your interpretation.
1. "is understood" is more poetic. 2. In Spanish, 'morir' means 'to die' and 'muerte', 'death.' So I got the literal. Figurative was harder. Could be suicidal or love dying with the rest of the poem. Stanza 4 alone could mean, from the negative point of view, loss of job, death of family member or close friend. From the positive p.o.v., kid going to college or military or just moving out, gladly leaving one job or relationship for something better. Many different readers can internalize this one to suit their own needs or preferences.
Everyone should read e.e. cummings. =)
Sigh. Another trip to the bookstore. ;-)
Backstory: Bits and pieces from the cutting board
I feel myself slipping
on muddy days
traction eludes me
Muddy days
life slipping away
tired eyes
looking everywhere
seeing nothing
arms without muscle
reaching outward
as wind
on the desert
Don't throw it out. You can make a trilogy with these, or turn them all into one larger poem with different, not chapters, the correct term 'eludes' me at the moment. But I have seen it many times. What turned me on to Gabriela Mistral was her trilogy of death sonnets for her lover. While working on a paper about them, I realized that she was going through the different stages of grief when she wrote them. My prof thought I was right. But I get the same feeling about reading this one in comparison to the other. That would be very interesting.
Not the feeling that anyone died but that something about the same situation is different.
Whatever else one can say, consistency has its benefits. The first stanza is excellent, I quite simply love the way that you have worded this, especially with that very last addition of and again/the rain comes. Like wading through water or knee high snow, it can be a tiring process, seemingly endless at times, after every dry peak, another journey, not each of them as arduous, and mud caked bottoms dry in time, another benefit of another consistency - excuse me whatever makes no sense, am exhausted. Staying upright can be a real challenge. Is the real challenge. Excuse me too, if I seem to be making light. Nothing clear is the hardest thing of all, yet still blind we move, consistency reigning again for faith and experience dictate, somewhere ahead there will be a clearing, a change to gain ones bearings, to take a look around and rediscover ones surroundings, familiarize oneself with what is new. That moment of lost-ness, of heavy rain, of path once visible washed by the downfall, of moving only without knowing if one is going about in circles or the wrong way can be frightening, not for the lost-ness but for the passage of time, needing to get to wherever we are going before darkness sets in. I know you would/if you could also is particularly well-phrased, and it is a source of relief after the words of the first part of the poem, that in the midst, there is the knowledge someone knows where you are, clarity may be wanting, boots may be muddy, but someone sees you, someone is wishing clear ways. It also speaks, at least to me on this night, on this night I may be reading many things that won't be there tomorrow for never having been there in the first place, speaks, expresses so well how, and I shall always adore Nerdy for the way she put this, whole hearts and bit and pieces can live outside our bodies, how another's pain can be felt as acutely as ones own, mean more than one's own, and when that is the case, how often is it that they know, and this is another thing that I love about this particular expression, the certainty. I like the second version, for the pauses, for the emphasis, for the still. More (perhaps) after a little shut-eye. Fascinating poem, easy to love.
Well, Ms Storm, I'm glad you liked this one. ;-)
Post a Comment