Topic started by Udhaya (@ 63.89.188.114) on Tue Jan 2 16:37:51 .
All times in EST +10:30 for IST.
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This thread is for English poems whether they be free verse, sonnets, or other metered poems. While wondering how to state the purpose of this thread, I was struck by all that this thread isn’t meant to be. So let me state what it isn’t and leave it up to participation to continue to define what it is.
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Responses:
- From: Udhaya (@ 63.89.188.114)
on: Tue Jan 2 16:52:04 EST 2001
I have volunteered with my first poem, please give your comments. Though I said support is the spirit of this thread, I'm definitely open to criticism.
Mortal Memory
Earth swallows another mortal memory.
Will the world ever unfold again
the way it did for that pair of eyes?
From that vantage point?
Backed by that specific cultural heritage?
Shaped by that personal lineage?
What impressions went with that soul?
What lessons died untaught?
Will those forehead creases reappear in another?
Will that catch phrase capture someone else's fancy?
Will another pair of shoes wear the same way again?
Will that jaunt ever be reborn in another walk?
Will the millions of skins that he shed
carry a hint of him to their end?
Will the memories he forged ever succumb to another?
Will his touch be remembered amidst the rest that succeed?
Did he unspool a myth mighty of remaking him in his absence?
- From: nalini (@ 169.144.224.107)
on: Wed Jan 3 15:00:20 EST 2001
Udhaya, so happy to read one of your poems in this hub again. Have missed it. Great stuff as usual. A thought-provoking, poetic view of death, that actually made me think of a certain immortality in it all. The last 2 lines are simply "vow"!
Will be back with my attempts later...
- From: Udhaya (@ 63.89.188.114)
on: Wed Jan 3 16:47:51 EST 2001
nalini,
Thanks for the kind words. I'm eager to read yours and works by others.
- From: Ramji (@ 205.177.170.101)
on: Wed Jan 3 17:37:23 EST 2001
The thread is already exciting and promising, having started with a bang. The poem blew me off. Traditional eulogy will no longer sound anything but shallow.
- From: nalini (@ pa-bethelpark2c-677.pit.adelphia.net)
on: Wed Jan 3 17:57:40 EST 2001
typo - I meant "wow"! :-)
- From: Gokul (@ dsl-64-34-176-129.telocity.com)
on: Wed Jan 3 23:00:06 EST 2001
Udhaya,
The last two lines are precious. I wonder
about "Will his touch be remembered amidst the rest that succeed? "!
Good to see you here!
- From: kr i (@ dialup-63.212.184.169.miami1.level3.net)
on: Thu Jan 4 08:24:58 EST 2001
Udhaya, welcome back. Good to see you again. Poem is nice. Expecting more from you and others here.
- From: Udhaya (@ 63.89.188.114)
on: Thu Jan 4 12:03:58 EST 2001
Ramji, Gokul, kr i,
Seems like the good old times, guys. Thanks for showing up. Hope you continue your visits here.
- From: vj (@ chme6pc4.ecn.purdue.edu)
on: Thu Jan 4 18:03:06 EST 2001
Udhaya, A warm welcome to you and your poem.
To me, the poem beautifully explored the notion of the short lives us individuals spend on Earth. The first emotion that it evoked in me is of sadness.. sadness at the very first line that talks of Earth having swallowed another mortal memory. This sadness grew and continued to dominate as you wondered about the individua's life and the memories and events associated with it.. I think its one of your best efforts..
In a poem like this which is of a rather
melancholy "wonder-ing" nature (I am sorry but I couldnt find a word to express it)... I wonder if it is but a sum of 'random' metaphorical sentences or if there is a specific connected imagery running through each of the lines? For example, the particular images (in relation to a person's life) you sought to include are catch phrases, shoes, jaunt (jaunt is linked to shoes), memories , impressions etc... and I am curious if the poem was written in parts built on a collection of images or whether there is a strong reason to include certain images and leave out others..
Vijay
- From: Udhaya (@ 63.89.188.114)
on: Thu Jan 4 18:44:54 EST 2001
vj,
First of all, great to see you here.
Thanks for the in-depth response to the piece. Your question is very interesting and set me off trying to trace what sparked the poem. I think the poem comes from a genral curiosity about what happens to the physical signatures of a being when that being passes on. More than that, why are we given these individual traits if they must all be erased forever.
Thanks for your post which made me dwell on the poem some more. About what criteria I used to add or leave out certain images, (wow, you are a damn good reader) I truly had none in mind. I think I was keen on not adding easy ones like smile. That's about it.
If we could all analyze every piece this way, we would all be that much richer. Thanks again, vj. Now, I'm raring to go and ready for others' poems.
- From: vj (@ chme6pc4.ecn.purdue.edu)
on: Thu Jan 4 19:08:11 EST 2001
Udhaya,
I did notice that you left out the cliches like smile and hair and face.. and thats why I wanted to know if you chose to omit them. Thanks for your response.
Let me post a poem.. on a very different level.
(There is a spelling issue with a word as the forum didnt allow me to post it as it is)
Memories from Childhood
I remember how the gentle
bespectacled uncle of ten houses
away, smiled at me some evening,
played with my genitalia, moaning
and how he made small talk
afterwards..
And, how a stranger on a train
accosted me, requesting my peenis
just for a while, and how he touched it;
How in a dark alley a salivating
70-year-old man fondled me, muttering
obscenities under his dry breath
and how my married cousin ordered
me to play with his toy.. and how his
face changed as I played with enthusiasm,
and sometimes, I also remember how
on a Summer morning, sleep- walking,
I saw my father, naked, embracing my
sister, while she hardly resisted.
- From: kr i (@ dialup-63.212.186.86.miami1.level3.net)
on: Fri Jan 5 07:54:29 EST 2001
I don't know the rules of English poems. This is my small attempt.
Actor
It had been ten years
since we met
No, I was waiting for the taxi
near the bus stop
You are having a nice home
Is this your wife, namasteji
You're having a smart son
Me, my beautiful wife
is a banker
My daughter is in 7th
in Don Bosco
My business, Oh
doing very good
No, no problem yaar
have to meet someone nearby
Ofcourse we will meet
still a lot to talk
he put his
hawaai chappals
and left the house
*******************
- From: Ramji (@ 205.177.170.141)
on: Fri Jan 5 08:15:54 EST 2001
Memories from Childhood is tight rope walking with the pit of **** on one side and profound expression on the other.
Vj is writing from tomorrow. Today may not be fully ready for him. Let us chew on this until tomorrow comes.
- From: Udhaya (@ 63.89.188.114)
on: Fri Jan 5 15:16:26 EST 2001
Rj,
Your piece is an assault on the reader’s capacity for empathy. Each stanza arrives like a bullet and before it could be digested and dealt with comes another harrowing stanza. I will get into the mechanics of the poem’s structure, but before that I must address the theme as a whole. This theme fits the confessional genre of poems. REMEMBER: this does not mean the telling of true life experiences, but just a telling of experiences from a personal point of view without the experiences having to be real. An imagined tragedy is just as powerful as a real one when executed right.
Now, coming to your piece, I personally feel it can do without the shift in the last stanza which introduces a whole other level of innocence betrayed. This becomes dramatic overload and diminishes the effect you’re going for as a poet.
The transition between the first and second stanza needs to be smoother somehow, yet I have no solutions to offer. On the one hand, memories, especially harrowing ones, speed along carrying the weight of the burden without bothering to align the events in sequence, but a poem might benefit from some sort of a scene being set up. By this I don’t mean a complete step-by-step description of the actual events that led up to the fondling, but some hint about how the uncle gets the narrator to end up trusting him within four walls? Did he offer him candy or play ball? I’m looking for some little detail to carry the scene over, I guess.
I would also recommend moving “afterwards” as the last word of the second stanza instead of having it dangling by itself. This empowers the following three stanzas that work great. The build up here could almost be set to a building chorus background of chaos. The tempo is great in these three stanzas. The clipped, short lines make the events seem very credible as shock from traumatic experiences halts one’s flow in retelling them.
Again, the last stanza betrays the drama built up in the previous stanzas and takes everything over the top. I wasn’t necessarily looking for a pat summation for this confessional poem, but the tremendous build up had to lead me somewhere more satisfactory (by this I don’t mean that it had to be positive!) than where it did. Of course, this is all my own opinion as always.
Ramji,
I don't know how you got pit of ****? There is nothing here remotely lascivious to be ****. **** is usually a crass depiction of consenting adults engaged in usually enjoyable (to them at least)sex. vj's piece is radically different from that.
- From: Udhaya (@ 63.89.188.114)
on: Fri Jan 5 15:25:52 EST 2001
kr i,
Rules of free verse English poems are the same as Thamizh ones and you seem to have a grasp of the rules. I like the Indo-English usage, “having a nice home”, “having a smart son” that depicts the scene among Indians adequately. I get the feeling that you rushed the poem. You can easily build on these same events and slow the pace down to have the ending payoff much better. The indifference, the widening gulf that has been brought on by the years of separation, the almost squeamish way we get upon seeing someone from another era in our lives is well worth a poem. You have nailed the spirit of such a poem with your ending, there’s a definite feeling of void there. I recommend expanding ithe poem with more of a build up and giving the characters some breathing room to flourish.
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