I lit upon these words, when
words would come no more
the glowing ridge of mountains
the birds that flit and soar
everything is growing, to
an encompassed charming calm
the strangeness of the garden
the stillness can't disarm
a leaning spade, clean of sod
awaiting things to dig
the earth, unmoving, something
is wrong with this picture, it is
smashed by the banality and the observance
of domestic bliss, until
a surge of wind, renders
a percussive flourish over the garden pool
it's tight surface rippled in gridlines
otherwise it slinks and slops
in intricately threaded webs,
through rocks
just then, my pen drops, I lift,
and realise I must walk,
and write on water.
Comments
The feeling of being in transition
is supposed to be a good one, normally, but I always find it so stressful. Change is inevitable, so it does make us feel hopeless very often. I think that's why even positive change can frighten people or they can be resistant to it. The image of writing on water captures that perfectly.
I had a little trouble getting used to the pace with the enjambment and commas, but it really works as long as the reader is willing to slow down and read carefully, which I think is important for all poetry.
An apt quote: "If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden." - The Secret Garden
Kelsey
Thanks Kesley.
I am experimenting a little, taking some advice from Eumo below actually! I had a major change in life direction, and there was a "significant emotional event" I guess, something that came out of left-field. As Ted Hughes (paraphrasing) suggested, trying to surprise myself with my own language. I am finding my metrical feet, in a different way.
Thanks.
Chris.
the focus
and the discipline to remain on point is critical in our work. The craft of wordsmanship is surely here.
I think there are some awesome images here. The last stanza is great, the image of writing on the water is really well done. The on/off rhymes are interesting, interesting to mix free verse with it.
Reading down:
I have some concerns about the opener "I lit" ..what did you mean by that?
The poem reads well for the next few stanza's, nice word sound and and but then introduces this
.. wrong with this picture, it is
smashed by the banality and the observance
of domestic bliss, until
That came out of left field, as we say here. I think this is a very broad based statement which i cannot connect to the garden, that the picture is smashed by the banality of domestic biiss is so strong an image i need too much outside the poem to comprehend it. How is bliss banal? Also doesn't work with the meter and pace of the poem.
followed by
it's tight surface rippled in gridlines
otherwise it slinks and slops
in intricately threaded webs,
through rocks
I then get the feeling you are viewing the pool which is covered by ..a pool cover? I've had a pool and outdoor Jacuzzi with a garden behind it.. how it slinks and slops, the threaded webs..
The last stanza stands out as pure poetry. I know what it means but I cannot explain how.
It's getting there slowly mate..
Just, as mentioned above, finding my feet again. Words imitating life. The triggers for creation are slowly coming in again, but getting there, so thanks for the encouragement..:)
Lit upon, just a turn of phrase, maybe used more on the other side of the pond, in Cambridge dictionaries here, just literally, finding something suddenly, in this case to explain something you had been looking at for an awful long time, not expecting anything to change:
http://www.thesaurus.com/browse/lit+upon
https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/light-on-upon-sth
I am commenting, reading and learning again. i think we all get to a point, where we stop and re-evaluate. This one may well be revised! Hopefully.
Thanks and take care.
Chris.
Oh and tranquil pools
of water..will do that, if you watch them, when the wind hits from a certain angle, all becomes an elegant pattern of grid-lines. In this case, it was a dam (or very large pond) for cattle in a paddock on the farm where we used to live.