I love driving stakes
Into the ground
Control, aim, drive,
She never
Intention, fire, result,
Even said
Swing up, swing down,
Goodbye.
The ground splits
The ping of metal echoes
I love driving stakes
Into the ground
Control, aim, drive,
She never
Intention, fire, result,
Even said
Swing up, swing down,
Goodbye.
The ground splits
The ping of metal echoes
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
quite fascinating
I was, strangely enough, thinking just today about music and poetry in term of forms. Music has sonata, fugue..poetry has sonnets etc.How do you write a good duet.I think you just answered that.
What a tour de force. The ping at the end is just a crazy poetic moment to connect to the 2 aspects. One voice the action of the stake driver, which all that baggage in that image, and just a raw statement of a deeply felt betrayal which connect at the ping,which echoes. Saying a lot with just the right words. really quite creatively done, what else can I say?
my only problem is with "Intention, fire, result," For some reason I'm just not getting that line...
where is the fire coming from...
also love the title for the work.
And, thanks for getting my brain going for ways of mixing music forms with poetry!
thanks Eumolpus
Yes! You get it. Thanks! I was imagining this piece like a dance, or even a battle between the two aspects - this guy trying to work out the agony of regret in a physical way, but a duet is a nice way to think of it! I love that analogy – I see a lot of possibilities in using music patterns in writing. As for the word “fire”, I just meant it as the moment of release (as in ready, aim, fire) of the hammer. Since I used “aim” in the line above it, I thought it might be subliminally implied. I wanted a description that conveyed an aggressive, almost violent movement, like he wants to drive the stake through the world, like a cannon firing. It has nothing to do with a flaming type fire, but I can see how that would be confusing. I should probably change it. The entire line “intention, fire, result” describes the clear intention, clean decisive action, and exactly predicted result in the simple act of driving a stake, in contrast to the intentions in his life that have been “misfired”.
Thanks
K
no need for any poet to justify
no need for any poet to justify
some swings creek
if rusted
and
music ensues
some are oiled
and soft
noiseless
birds sing
all love the poetic music
never change your gait
just coz I don't like to see you
at my gate
come and swing in the garden of Paris
and say
Captain swings anywhere
any way
be happy and gay
now let's swing and dance as you may
No one should come my way
my swinging is enough
to make you enjoy
O
I am a Captain of love
O boy
All Ahoy!!!
Thank you Lovedly. I was
Thank you Lovedly. I was kinda just trying to answer the question Eumoplus had. I like your poem for my poem- yes the poetry comes when oilied or rusted, when raw or refined, music of some kind either way....so dont worry about it, just write, as long as it is honest. I think thats what you mean? :) I like that if so. I'm flattered by your words again.
K
Have faith in thy worth at FIRST and at LAST
only your honesty
integrity will for ever last
failure and deceit
will just be like past
forgotten and burred
very fast
I really like the energy this
I really like the energy this poem has. It seems gritty, sweaty and full of brute force. The lines 'She never even said goodbye' I felt were full of anger, not regret. But that's just me.
I like the idea of two thoughts presented this way in one poem. Do you mind if I try this sometime in the future? Or is that a poetry no-no? (I'm new at poetry! Sorry for my ignorance).
Thanks Captain.
I don't mind. I'd be
I don't mind. I'd be flattered. Also, I'm glad you feel the anger in there, that's part of it for sure. Thanks!
K
.
.
I like the...
implication of thought while swinging the hammer. I used to be a "carnie" [ride operator on a carnival] and we sometimes had to stake a ride down so that it was stable when in operation. The circle of men swinging hammers to drive the stakes had it's own music like a hard chorus. I was a hard-laborer, most of my life and when the body has learned the rhythm, the mind is free to conjure questions and answers to life's problems and piques. Nice job! ~ Geezer
thamk you!
I was in construction myself most my life. Just manage projects mostly now. I miss the work sometimes though. Like you said, there is something in the rhythm and pace that, for me, is therapeutic. I'm happy the poem resonated with you.
K