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Post by purplejacket on Jan 9, 2008 15:27:57 GMT -5
January Thaw
walking in this January thaw
the sun on your shoulder near me
you get tired now more than before
but I don’t mind your complaining
we walk slowly past the big tree
the one we ate under
the day you told me
about the tests
I sing that awful song
as we turn for home
and you laugh and say
I’m not going to do that
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Post by MichaelFirewalker on Jan 9, 2008 16:41:33 GMT -5
wow, how fine is your love, how all-encompassing and healing it is, you are...
your poem is also perfect----its lines are tight and well placed with no waste----its words are carefully smithed----and it has a lovely, enigmatic ending----perfect...
michael
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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 9, 2008 18:46:24 GMT -5
Mandy,
A couple of thoughts:
walking in this January thaw
the sun on your shoulder near me
the sun on your shoulder nearest me
And I'm not connecting with the 'awful song' to what's quoted in the last line.
Probably just me.
Maggie
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Post by purplejacket on Jan 9, 2008 20:19:17 GMT -5
It was nearest at one point, I think I changed it for two reasons. number 2, the length of the line (nearest pushes the "me" out into lonely land, and I didn't want to insinuate loneliness just yet, but mmmyeah, it could work), and number 1, I wanted to allow for the reader to think of "sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy," and have that thought near, maybe subconsciously. Nearest seemed to push it too close to something else that was more concrete.
There are a few things going on in the last stanza. At first, I didn't want to explain it, but then I remembered that I am talking to Maggie. And Maggie is a good reader, so if she didn't pick up on it, maybe it's not clear enough. So I have decided to explain what I want there with the hope that it will enlighten the suggestions.
I sing that awful song
as we turn for home
and you laugh and say
I’m not going to do that
The awful song - Where you live, if someone says something mean, but in a joking kind of friendly way, might someone else smile, tsk and say, "Oh, that's awful"? Of course, awful also means really bad, which might point toward the sadness/loneliness that is now more apparent.
I sing it as we turn toward home. I first had it worded "head for home," but a friend suggested turn, because though there are many turning points in this, this is one that might need more highlighting.
you laugh and say
laughing because of the "tsk, awful" song, and for contrast with the last line.
I'm not going to do that. And is that a response to what was said in the song or is about getting quite home, home representing safety and comfort?
(In reality, this is loosely strung together and based on several outings with my friend, Katie. This is what I sang on our way back from lunch today: "I don't want somebody to love me, just give me sex whenever I want it..." [Rufus Wainwright] That is when she laughed and said, "That's awful. And no, I'm not going to do that." The relief that I hope this poem points to is temporary, like a January thaw. She is having more tests. January in Ithaca, and it was in the 60s yesterday.)
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Post by Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47 on Jan 10, 2008 8:51:58 GMT -5
Thanks for the history behind this one. Subtle rhyme is effective.
Prayers are with your friend.........
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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 10, 2008 13:13:08 GMT -5
Mandy,
Your explanation "this is loosely strung together and based on several outings with my friend, etc." seems to be where parts of your poem lay. Use what actually passed between you two.
Maggie
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Post by LynnDoiron on Jan 10, 2008 14:27:36 GMT -5
you get tired now more than before
but I don’t mind your complaining
you get tired now more than before,
complain more, but I don't mind.
p.j. -- the above suggestion just popped out there as I was reading this the 3rd or 4th time. I almost connect with this poem, but have to give a nod toward maggie's suggestions to use what actually passed. the work, now, is little like a fragile piece of tatting where some threads have wasted and broken away -- the connections, for me, aren't quite there. but there's the beauty of what it could be there, in hand, if you get my drift . . .
lynn
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Post by MichaelFirewalker on Jan 10, 2008 15:23:48 GMT -5
O dear, I think I am reacting differently, but I do hear what Mags and lynn are saying, and can see the truth of it in the poem----however, for me, I really like to have those missing threads in this tatting, because I have cared for and buried so many people whose stories were similar to this one----and those missing threads leave some free psychic space for me to fit all of those missing hearts into this poem----this poem can speak for many whom we have lost...
michael
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Post by purplejacket on Jan 10, 2008 18:11:27 GMT -5
Thanks Michael. There isn't anything in this poem that didn't happen. A friend, after reading this and working on it with me for a bit said, "I think if you say something about a person, and it's true enough, it will be true for anybody."
Right now it has a finished feeling for me, but I may just need some distance from it. Maybe I'll come back to it in a few months and play some more. I really didn't realize that I was asking so much of the reader, but I'm also glad that it's not an easy one.
Thanks everyone, for reads, thoughts, time, responses.
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