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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 21, 2008 15:18:04 GMT -5
Imagine us having dinner with Wilbur?
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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 21, 2008 15:20:48 GMT -5
And here's a title:
Two Wishes, One star
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Post by David Nelson Bradsher on Jan 21, 2008 15:27:58 GMT -5
Imagine us having dinner with Wilbur?
Two poets with the master chef of words
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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 21, 2008 15:40:45 GMT -5
Imagine us having dinner with Wilbur—
two poets with the master chef of words,
or maybe two notes looking for the key
to his songs.
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Post by David Nelson Bradsher on Jan 21, 2008 15:46:25 GMT -5
Imagine us having dinner with Wilbur—
two poets with the master chef of words,
or maybe two notes looking for the key
to his songs. The piano or the potroast
will be tuned or turned, respectively
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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 21, 2008 17:16:22 GMT -5
Imagine us having dinner with Wilbur—
two poets with the master chef of words,
or maybe two notes looking for the key
to his songs. The piano or the potroast
will be tuned or turned, respectively,
with tumbled rockmeal, stone-fume, lilac spray*
*from the Marginal Way by Richard Wilbur
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Post by David Nelson Bradsher on Jan 21, 2008 18:57:03 GMT -5
Imagine us having dinner with Wilbur—
two poets with the master chef of words,
or maybe two notes looking for the key
to his songs. The piano or the potroast
will be tuned or turned, respectively,
with tumbled rockmeal, stone-fume, lilac spray*
whose pure ingredients will waft to minds
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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 22, 2008 3:36:34 GMT -5
Imagine us having dinner with Wilbur—
two poets with the master chef of words,
(Or maybe two notes looking for a mus-
ical bone?) The piano or the potroast
will be tuned or turned, respectively,
with tumbled rockmeal, stone-fume, lilac spray*
whose pure ingredients will waft to minds
that value steel advice as floorboards for
leaf-like desires.
I edited the third line.
*from the Marginal Way by Richard Wilbur
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Post by David Nelson Bradsher on Jan 22, 2008 14:20:56 GMT -5
Imagine us having dinner with Wilbur—
two poets with the master chef of words,
(Or maybe two notes looking for a mus-
ical bone?) The potroast (or the piano)
will be turned or tuned, respectively,
with tumbled rockmeal, stone-fume, lilac spray*
whose pure ingredients will waft to minds
that value steel advice as floorboards for
leaf-like desires. The clanging pots
and pans of mental commerce sling their weight
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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 23, 2008 19:37:43 GMT -5
Imagine us having dinner with Wilbur—
two poets with the master chef of words,
(Or maybe two notes looking for a mus-
ical bone?) The potroast (or the piano)
will be turned or tuned, respectively,
with tumbled rockmeal, stone-fume, lilac spray*
whose pure ingredients will waft to minds
that value steel advice as floorboards for
leaf-like desires. The clanging pots
and pans of mental commerce sling
their weight back and forth arguing
substitions in the meal.
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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 23, 2008 21:03:30 GMT -5
Do you think we should change 'us' to 'them'
in the opening verse, muh cara?
I was thinking it might give us more room to work in the third person.
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Post by David Nelson Bradsher on Jan 24, 2008 10:46:26 GMT -5
Imagine them having dinner with Wilbur—
two poets with the master chef of words,
(Or maybe two notes looking for a mus-
ical bone?) The potroast (or the piano)
will be turned or tuned, respectively,
with tumbled rockmeal, stone-fume, lilac spray,*
whose pure ingredients will waft to minds
that value steel advice as floorboards for
leaf-like desires. The clanging pots
and pans of mental commerce sling
their weight back and forth arguing
substitutions in the meal. The meat for veggies
debate has a hardier flavor, complete
with gristle for the dogs to chew off the bone
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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 24, 2008 10:53:19 GMT -5
Imagine them having dinner with Wilbur—
two poets with the master chef of words,
(Or maybe two notes looking for a mus-
ical bone?) The potroast (or the piano)
will be turned or tuned, respectively,
with tumbled rockmeal, stone-fume, lilac spray,*
whose pure ingredients will waft to minds
that value steel advice as floorboards for
leaf-like desires. The clanging pots
and pans of mental commerce sling
their weight back and forth arguing
substitutions in the meal. The meat for veggies
debate has a hardier flavor, complete
with gristle for the dogs to chew off the bone
He wants hot and seasonal; she wants cold
and regional
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Post by LynnDoiron on Jan 24, 2008 14:07:26 GMT -5
I liked "for a key to his songs" better than the split word "mus-/ ical bone?)" Just me, but the split is a bit toooo clever and loses me. Also like "the piano or the potroast" and how that arrangement rolls off the tongue (or mind) whereas the current arrangement does not [for me]. I'd bet my knickers you guys can come up with a stronger, richer word than "meal" in L12 [even broth or stock or stew carry more, me thinks]; and "complete / with gristle off the bone for the dogs to chew" reads less awkwardly, again, just me and my view . . . Love, love, love the he wants and she wants phrasings you have so far.
dat's all.
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Post by David Nelson Bradsher on Jan 24, 2008 17:01:33 GMT -5
Thank you, Lynn. I like your suggestions, but I'm holding off till Maggie agrees, too. I did change meal to stew, and I liked your gristle off the bone suggestion enough to change it.
Imagine them having dinner with Wilbur—
two poets with the master chef of words,
(Or maybe two notes looking for a muse-
ical bone?) The potroast (or the piano)
will be turned or tuned, respectively,
with tumbled rockmeal, stone-fume, lilac spray,*
whose pure ingredients will waft to minds
that value steel advice as floorboards for
leaf-like desires. The clanging pots
and pans of mental commerce sling
their weight back and forth arguing
substitutions in the stew. The meat for veggies
debate has a hardier flavor, complete
with gristle off the bone for the dogs to chew on.
He wants hot and seasonal; she wants cold
and regional. Compromise will be
eclectic, a mix of sensible and soulful—
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Post by mfwilkie on Jan 25, 2008 9:24:53 GMT -5
Imagine them having dinner with Wilbur—
two poets with the master chef of words,
(Or maybe two notes looking for a muse-
ical bone?) The potroast (or the piano)
will be turned or tuned, respectively,
with tumbled rockmeal, stone-fume, lilac spray,*
whose pure ingredients will waft to minds
that value steel advice as floorboards for
leaf-like desires. The clanging pots
and pans of mental commerce sling
their weight back and forth arguing
substitutions in the stew. The meat for veggies
debate has a hardier flavor, complete
with gristle off the bone for the dogs to chew on.
He wants hot and seasonal; she wants cold
and regional. Compromise will be
eclectic, a mix of sensible and soulful.
(Let's re-write that as sage and Barry White.)
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