The sound of your eyes (Final Version)

[determinedtofail]

The Sound of Your Eyes (Final Version)[/b]


Trees shed memories in epochs,
gradual as the sound of your eyes.

I sense the falling leaves and turn to look for you.
Empty branches, wrapped in distance,
go on uncomplaining,

yet I am comforted by the vacancy of darkened wood
adding depth to a bird's song
composition to feathers;

like patient funerals, like tethered coffins
departing from a strange family
with muted knees and solemn colors,
where everyone pauses before speaking, before moving,
before swallowing,

as moments proceed like falling leaves on certain mornings.


Revised Version

Before a softened morning swallowed in fog
trees shed their memories in epochs.
Gradual, as the sound of your eyes
unfurling from that somber nose.

I sense the rate of falling leaves and turn to look for you.
The empty branches, wrapped in distance,
go on uncomplaining.

I am comforted by the vacancy of darkened wood
the depth they add to a bird's song,
the composition they give to feathers;

like patient funerals, like tethered coffins,
departing from a strange family with muted knees and solemn colors,
where everyone pauses before speaking, before moving, before swallowing
before movements proceed like falling leaves on certain mornings.


The sound of your eyes (Origional version)

On a softened morning swallowed in fog
the streets are pasted and the trees are shedding memories.

The unshaken leaves approach the ground in epochs,
gradual,
as the sound of your eyes, unfurling from that somber nose.

I sense the rate of falling leaves and turn to look for you.
The trees seem empty, wrapped in distance,
they go on uncomplaining.

I envy their vacancy, their darkened wood
the depth it adds to the bird's song,
to the composition it gives to their feathers;

like patient funerals, like tethered coffins,
departing from a strange family with muted knees & solemn colors,
where everyone pauses before speaking, before moving, before swallowing
and our movements proceed like falling leaves on certain mornings.

[Marion Poirier]

Hi Austin,
It appears to be autumn in your poem
so I would use it in the first line with
morning. I never heard of a softened
morning but I never heard of a lot
of things. LOL.

In S2, unfurling from that somber nose
does not sound very poetic to me; however
poetry means different things to different people,
so feel free to ignore me.

IMO S3 is good the way it's written.

S4 has too many their pronouns and you
have its where it should be they, plural.
I'd reword and eliminate some.

In last stanza too many redundant words in
my opinion and can be eliminated, and shorten
the lines somewhat. Unless you are a follower
of e.e.cummings I wouldn't use & if you have
the word spelled out in other places - not cool.

All in all, lots of potential in this creative poem,
with some polish and trimming.
Marion

[determinedtofail]

Thanks Marion,

I took this poem with me grocery shopping and noticed some of the items that later you pointed out, such as overuse of pronouns and misuses of ITS and THEIR.

I used & to try and keep to one line. I was afraid the last word in a line would be placed below it.

I have to read some more E.E. Cummings work. Someone else said that about my poetry.

Living in Portland OR the clouds here are often very low, overtaking the sky, keeping the fog bottled in, and keeping a blanket on the temperature. So it was Autumn, great that you noticed that, but I'm still trying to somehow describe the particular day. It's now deep fall and I'm still scratching what is left of my hair.

Thanks for the comments Marion. Found many helpful and always good to get a fresh set of sharp eyes on things. ;D


--Austin

[Marion Poirier]

Austin this version is a great improvement IMHO.
I understand your desire to describe the morning,
and it's obvious that it is autumn, and you are unique
in your descriptions. Do you mean by softened, tranquil
or something on that idea? How about hushed or silent
or some other synonym? That word really sounds awkward
and I don't think it's conveying your intent
or it may be me who is soft.

Why not break up some of those longer lines
like we do in contemporary poetry.

I like very much what you've done with this poem.

Oh, I'd begin the poem with (on ) as you had before
and use a comma after the first line.

Very good revision.
Marion

[Ron Wallace (Scotshawk)]

My apologies for the butchering. Disregard anything which injures your voice. I really, really like most of your images and find the tone impressive, strong and unique. Nice to meet you. Ron

Before a softened morning swallowed in fog
trees shed their memories in epochs.
Gradual, as the sound of your eyes
unfurling from that somber nose.

I sense the rate of falling leaves and turn to look for you.
The empty branches, wrapped in distance,
go on uncomplaining,

But I am comforted by the vacancy of darkened wood,
the depth they added to a bird's song,
the composition they given to feathers;

like patient funerals, like or tethered coffins,
departing from a strange family
with muted knees and solemn colors,
where everyone pauses before speaking, before moving,
before swallowing.
before movements proceed like falling leaves on certain mornings.

[determinedtofail]

Ron,

Nice to meet you. Thanks for you comments. Many of the suggestions make sense. In this case, maybe less is more. Love your consideration of a poets own voice. Marvelous personality there! I'm sure that personality helps nourish your own poetry.

I was struggling with the balance on this one and some of my own tendencies were getting in the way. Sometimes I try to cram too much into one poem.

Ultimately I want to be a poet that while writing can hear the poems own voice come through.

Hope to start trimming this when I have a little more time. Thanks again.

---Austin

[LeoVictorBriones (poetremains)]

Austin…

I like this poem and it has a great title. I think some of the lines could read smoother if it was just a bit more conversational. Also, some of the lines are way too tell and not show. For instance… I am comforted by the vacancy of darkened wood…this would be much better if you just said…

The vacancy on dark woods, the depth of songbirds, the composition of feathers

That way we feel the image and are not forced to have to accept your perception.

Here is a example:

The softened morning,
swallowed in fog,
trees shed memories,
Gradual, as the sound of your eyes .

I look for you in the pace of falling leaves.
The empty branches, wrapped in distance,
they do not protest.

The vacancy on dark woods,
the depth of songbirds,
the composition of feathers

like patient funerals, like tethered coffins,
they depart from this strange family
where everyone pauses before speaking,
before moving, before swallowing

like falling leaves on certain mornings.

I hope this analysis is helpful.

Leo

[mfwilkie]

There's a lot to like on a first read, Austin.

Back tomorrow.

Maggie

[determinedtofail]

Thanks everyone for your suggestions, much appreaciated. There was something from everyone that was useful with the voice that I was going for with this.


---Shawn

[mfwilkie]

Justin,

I've read this several times over the past few days, and I think you need to trim it a bit, restructure some thoughts. I don't think you need to mention falling leaves twice as falling leaves. There are so many different ways to convey the image.

I think it's trying just a bit too hard to be poetic and it doesn't need to with phrases like the sound of your eyes and vacancy of darkened wood already in play.

Some ideas you might think on:

On a softened morning,
swallowed in fog,

Soft, these mornings swallowed by fog.

and

adding depth to a composition/concert of feathers




like patient funerals, like tethered coffins,
departing from a strange family
with muted knees and solemn colors,
where everyone pauses before speaking, before moving,
before swallowing,

as moments proceed like falling leaves on certain mornings.

I would work on this, Justin, but let it come gradually.

Maggie

[ramadevi]

Wonderful to come to this after you have trimmed and revised. Great title and theme. Excellent metaphor.

Loved this
Empty branches, wrapped in distance,
go on uncomplaining,
yet, I am comforted by the vacancy of darkened wood
adding depth to a bird's song,
composition to feathers;

I think trimming a few commas may be a good idea:

On a softened morning,(no comma?)

gradual,(is this really needed here?) as the sound of your eyes.

yet,(is this comma really needed here?) I am comforted by the

The tone and tenor of this is pensive, wistful and highly poetic.
NICE
Warmly,
rd

[determinedtofail]

Thanks everyone. I made a few adjustments from the advice offered.

[Marion Poirier]

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Austin, I like this version best and offer a few alternative
suggestions for formatting. Very good work!
Marion

The Sound of Your Eyes


Trees shed memories in epochs,
gradual as the sound of your eyes.
I sense the falling leaves
and turn to look for you.

Empty branches
go on uncomplaining.
Yet I am comforted by vacancy
of darkened wood,
adding depth to a bird's song
composition to feathers

like patient funerals,
tethered coffins
departing from a strange family
with muted knees and solemn colors.
Here everyone pauses before speaking,
before moving. before swallowing

as moments proceed like
falling leaves on certain mornings.