Ron Buck (halfshell)
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EP Word Master and Published Member
-------- ecce signum --------- ------ behold the proof ------
Posts: 988
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Post by Ron Buck (halfshell) on Dec 29, 2008 21:35:59 GMT -5
Prospecting
.
Into the water again,
please don’t count the syllables,
just listen to stones against
sand tumbling around the pan;
tell me then what you can hear.
Stop.
Stand up.
Look down.
Who do you see? If it is you, when?
A glimpse, a gasp, a pale resemblance.
Stone against sand, the rub of time, or
rude awakening of dust settling on
a smile so distant it becomes a false
memory, or a grim reminder of motion
mimicking the heart’s threshing.
A smile intended. A grimace recorded.
Make a swirl in any direction.
Cast your soul into the pool.
Make a wish.
If you could be the mountain,
would you be tall enough to see
beyond, grow wise enough to
wash clean the encrusted sap
slowly covering the places
you yearned to be when
this time came around?
Into the water again.
This time count the syllables.
It makes you want to laugh long
again, out loud, forever.
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Post by purplejacket on Dec 30, 2008 0:57:38 GMT -5
I'm not sure if I'm in much of a proper state for intelligent responding, but I wanted to let you know that I enjoyed this, as I often enjoy your writing. Once you're aware of what life is, it probably is inevitable to laugh a little crazily.
I had some trouble reading this part:
would you be tall enough to see
beyond to grow small enough
I'm just not sure how to read it. If you grow tall, then you can see beyond and grow small enough for something? Do you mean to imply age and erosion?
I like a smile intended, a grimace recorded, and all the description that preceded.
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Post by mfwilkie on Dec 30, 2008 9:02:57 GMT -5
Taking this for a walk, Ron.
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Ron Buck (halfshell)
EP Gold 750 Posts Plus
EP Word Master and Published Member
-------- ecce signum --------- ------ behold the proof ------
Posts: 988
|
Post by Ron Buck (halfshell) on Dec 30, 2008 9:03:19 GMT -5
thank you. i gave it a few tweaks... just enough to keep it wobbly... great help.
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Post by mfwilkie on Dec 30, 2008 9:23:14 GMT -5
The first stanza brought me back to the kb real quick.
The rest and I are out the door for sure this time.
Maggie
Into the water again—
but don’t count syllables.
Just listen. To stones against
sand. And tell me then(,)? what
you can hear.
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Post by Marion Poirier on Dec 30, 2008 23:12:55 GMT -5
Ron, I like this; however, I think there are too many
questions. I'd turn some into statements and trim
moderately. Lots of good stuff here - but you know
what they say about too much of a good thing.
Marion
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Post by Ron Wallace (Scotshawk) on Dec 31, 2008 12:36:30 GMT -5
Damn, Ron, I like this a lot. It's great to see you in the water again by the way. I like the questions. They work for me, make the thing sing. I know what I say about too much of a good thing: "Ain't no such thing as too much of a good thing."
Maybe it's because I haven't read your Yankee ass in awhile, or maybe it's because this is just good stuff, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I might hack out a "the" or two otherwise it's fine to my ear. Ron
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Post by brianedwards on Jan 7, 2009 9:53:02 GMT -5
Enjoyed this Ron, but yearned gave me one heck of a bump in the tail.
It adds an extra syllable, but consider replacing for the simpler wanted?
Enjoyed the ems mimicking the heart in
memory, or a grim reminder of motion
mimicking the heart’s threshing.
Nice. Happy New Year!
B.
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Post by LeoVictorBriones (poetremains) on Jan 7, 2009 13:51:59 GMT -5
I thoroughly enjoyed this poem. I do think you tell a bit to much. I think the poem is better and more surprising if you allow the reader to figure out that it's a love poem. To get there I think you remove all the explanatory refrains and it would read something like this:
Into the water again,
please don’t count the syllables,
just listen to stones against
sand tumbling around the pan;
tell me then what you can hear.
A glimpse, a gasp, a pale resemblance.
Stone against sand, the rub of time, or
rude awakening of dust settling on
a smile so distant it becomes a false
memory, or a grim reminder of motion
mimicking the heart’s threshing.
If you could be the mountain,
would you be tall enough to see
beyond, grow wise enough to
wash clean the encrusted sap
slowly covering the places
you yearned to be when
this time came around?
Into the water again.
This time count the syllables.
It makes you want to laugh long
again, out loud, forever.
I think this is more powerful and the mystery adds to the romanticism of the poem.
Nice read thanks.
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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 9, 2009 13:24:10 GMT -5
Ron,
This first stanza if still bugging my ear.
Into the water again?
Please don’t count the syllables,
just listen to stones against sand
tumble against the shape of the pan
and tell me then what you can hear.
Mags
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Ron Buck (halfshell)
EP Gold 750 Posts Plus
EP Word Master and Published Member
-------- ecce signum --------- ------ behold the proof ------
Posts: 988
|
Post by Ron Buck (halfshell) on Jan 10, 2009 9:24:11 GMT -5
Sorry for the delay in responding... schedule has been full with vo work, rehearsals, and nail banging....
still thrashing this one around... Leo, Brian, and Mags... all nice thoughts and suggestions for me to mull over...
Ron... sorry I haven't had time to respond... my stuff has been pretty flat lately... not at all happy with it... like what you've been up to... have been concentrating on upgrading my audio studio have just closed at deal with St. Mary's University College in GB London... you can hear my spots on their radio station ... HUZZAH!! I may not be able to write it... but can still speak it!
tidings
ron
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