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Post by LeoVictorBriones (poetremains) on Apr 2, 2008 12:39:29 GMT -5
How many times can I ignore
the iron bell’s hollow clang,
how many times can I cry into the tar of night
as my blanket unfurls, the wind gathers
like a cold mirror?
Do you not remember my heart pumping
like thunder against your womb?
Do you not remember the taste of jam wine across your breasts
or the unfolding of yellow summer in your thighs?
Behind the closed door there are two urns.
One roars like the gold song of the dying lion,
the other stretches its ghostly arm to offer what is left of love
which is straw and sand.
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Post by LynnDoiron on Apr 2, 2008 13:09:02 GMT -5
like this one alot, leo.
question regarding the straw and sand. i wanted that line to represent home, like adobe, like the base structure that is built where we abide. but the sand won't hold for me. love the sound of straw and sand. and it may be that you weren't going for an image, or feeling, or resonance indicating a "home" or "hearth" which is less for the loss of parents --- but would suggest that if you were going for that sort of feel, sand needs to be something less weak, something more able to hold against time and erosion.
love yellow summer unfolding in her thighs
love the idea of jam wine across your chest, but wonder, briefly, the contortionist it would take to taste one's own chest.
love the slant rhyme of mirror and unfurl
the rhyme of ignore and shore
in fact, lots of good sounds in this ---
lynn
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Post by MichaelFirewalker on Apr 2, 2008 14:22:07 GMT -5
this one is a heartbreaker, one which speaks exactly like the pounding thunder of your heart----but I had difficulty understanding the last two lines in reference to the rest of the poem----because the rest of the poem truly is thunder, and the thunder comes from the sound of the love expressed in both directions----so, it does not seem, in view of all that vibrance in your memories as they are written, that all that is left of love is dust and sand----I do understand that the urn containing dust and sand is her urn, but in the first part of the poem, her love does not read like dust and sand, but in accord with yours, like fire----could it be that the dust and sand are actually the result of the effect of time on your memories of her, and not the quality of the love she once held for you?
with love and respect,
michael
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Post by Sherry Thrasher on Apr 2, 2008 15:48:03 GMT -5
Hello. This is my second reading of your poem and am unfortunately only flying through for a second. On first thought, I think you could omit the last line and end it at :
the other stretches its ghostly arm to offer what is left of love
Super poem, Leo. Sorry I have nothing more at this time to add.
Sherry
PS: Pease pm me your number. I changed cell phones.
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Post by sandpiper on Apr 3, 2008 19:07:10 GMT -5
I've read this on and off as the changes have occured, and as I can't see it now, I do think I liked the line breaks in the first version the best. But, I do like the wording here. The straw and sand I see as dry and not fertile. Which works Perfectly well with the image portrayed, and I see no problem with that at all. For some reason I want to suggest a cold mirror's chill over the chill of a cold mirror, and I'm not sure if you had that before or it's just the way I'm thinking it, but I think I would prefer that wording.
Other than that, not a nit. sorrowful, and well done.
-piper
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Post by purplejacket on Apr 3, 2008 19:41:25 GMT -5
Hi Leo. The images of tar and blanket so close together made the blanket tarry for me. Is S2 all one sentence? If it is, replace the comma with an and. S2 is very image heavy. Tar - blanket - wind - mirror. I also don't get how wind is like a cold mirror. What is like a cold mirror?
maybe give it a haircut:
how many times can I cry into the night
when the wind [interesting verb] my blanket...
or even:
how many times can the wind
[interesting verb] my blanket in the night
there are three very distinct sections of this poem, and I think they need a stronger linguistic connection. It also may be useful to rewrite this backwards - start with the urns, then the memories, then the horrors of loneliness. The way it is now, I am confused when I read the center part because I didn't know we were talking about 2 people, and I thought there was some kind of strange breast-feeding or something.
Saying, "Do you not remember..." is subtly different from saying, "Do you remember..." There's a more pleading tone in the former, and a more eager in the latter. I think the pleading tone serves your purpose better here to accentuate the loneliness.
Also - just added - I don't know which urn goes with which woman.
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Post by Marion Poirier on Apr 3, 2008 19:52:53 GMT -5
Hi Leo, Intriguing poem.
I liked the previous title better, can't connect this one
with the poem. Also, I don't connect the wind
gathering like a cold mirror-
perhaps like a cold veil or shroud-the latter may
be too obvious-but a sort of covering.
I don't get the two urns - but then, you may have
to go into more detail and that would diminish
the mystery - I think that is its allure -
too many poems tell too much.
Great poetic piece.
Marion
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Post by Marion Poirier on Apr 5, 2008 10:39:24 GMT -5
Leo, how about, (The Death of Love) for a title?
That would explain the two urns. You should have
a dash or em-dash after the second line if you
want to avoid the question mark here.
M
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