Terror
#1
Terror

You're just afraid is all,

that between the lines
of flapping white linens 
hung to dry
a noon sun asserts a light
immune to reproach.

I see you squinting. 

What you gonna do
now that black is bulletproof 
and ricochets sound
all around you?

Get the bourbon
from the gun closet
and pour it on the wounds?

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#2
Not a lot concrete here. You’re just afraid, then you’re wounded (or maybe you are pouring it on someone else’s wound, but theres not a hint of a third party) , then it is noon, then there is black (I would expect the opposite of darkness during noon, with eyes squinting)


I am afraid of the noon sun. black is bulletproof, and loud. Lick wounds. I’m probably just an idiot but honestly, not seeing the metaphor here. Sorry.
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#3
political read for me. white linens -- surrender, or mourning shrouds? or even skin--- i'm certain that sun talks of power, as well as that same freedom kids enjoy running down their backyards at noontime (at least according to my consumption of american media; over here that time's oft too hot to play in). and then squinting: certainly significant, but right now i can't quite put words to it. the issue then arrives at the third stanza: black [skin?] bulletproof [and if skin, certainly not, but then i can't be sure if the person, in his fear of this non-fact, is being reproached, rather than, with the too-calm acknowledgement of his fear (of his *terror*, another loaded term), being comforted], ricochets now enforcing my more concrete associations of this piece with the recent florida shootings... and yeah, i definitely feel like this is related to those shootings, with that last stanza (gun closet ~ gun control, bourbon as symbol of decadence, wounds ~ bulletholes). but, as with my note on the piece's general tone being too ambiguous, the piece's symbolism is a little too subtle (particularly the bourbon, as i would take such alcoholic disinfection to be a good thing, if not a smart thing), and overall these two too's make for a confusing, uncomfortable-in-a-useless-way read.
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#4
made me see small holes cut in that linen, and a (symbolized/imagined) stand-off at high noon.
not sure if "bulletproof" fits well, but "ricochets of sound" and the way how those wounds are treated are thoughtful and impactful lines.
...
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#5
Hi Tiger, I will comment personally.


Terror 

You're just afraid is all,                                              that thing about fear. if only we could just bury fear instead of people.

that between the lines
of flapping white linens 
hung to dry                                                             my head went to fondest memories of grandma doing laundry
a noon sun asserts a light
immune to reproach.                                                I used to hide between the sheets and felt the sun on my face, safe there, clean

I see you squinting.                                                   this made me smile :Smile                                             

What you gonna do                                                 this part brought me to controversy
now that black is bulletproof                                      made me think about sackcloth                                
and ricochets sound                                                  and a graveyard of folks who trusted
all around you?

Get the bourbon                                                       not bourbon, but the metaphor is strong
from the gun closet
and pour it on the wounds?                                      sarcasm from the lips of someone frustrated or whose hands are tied



All I could see was a wonderful, beautiful poem written by a caring heart of a person.
Well, that's my take on it.


-nibbed
there's always a better reason to love
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#6
(02-20-2018, 01:21 PM)QDeathstar Wrote:  Not a lot concrete here.  You’re just afraid, then you’re wounded (or maybe you are pouring it on someone else’s wound, but theres not a hint of a third party) , then it is noon, then there is black (I would expect the opposite of darkness during noon, with eyes squinting)


I am afraid of the noon sun. black is bulletproof, and loud. Lick wounds. I’m probably just an idiot but honestly, not seeing the metaphor here. Sorry.

Not an idiot. You're just afraid is all. (To read) between the lines. I see you squinting-- No, seriously, you are right I suppose. I have not connected all the dots because I don't have the answers. Only questions.

(02-21-2018, 01:43 AM)RiverNotch Wrote:  political read for me. good white linens -- surrender, or mourning shrouds? or even skin--- i'm certain that sun talks of power, and light as well as that same freedom kids enjoy running down their backyards at noontime (at least according to my consumption of american media; over here that time's oft too hot to play in). and then squinting: certainly significant, but right now i can't quite put words to it. abrupt light? the issue then arrives at the third stanza: black [skin?] bulletproof [and if skin, certainly not, but then i can't be sure if the person, in his fear of this non-fact, is being reproached, rather than, with the too-calm acknowledgement of his fear (of his *terror*, another loaded term), being comforted], ricochets now enforcing my more concrete associations of this piece with the recent florida shootings... and yeah, i definitely feel like this is related to those shootings, in part, yes with that last stanza (gun closet ~ gun control, bourbon as symbol of decadence, wounds ~ bulletholes). but, as with my note on the piece's general tone being too ambiguous, the piece's symbolism is a little too subtle agreed(particularly the bourbon, as i would take such alcoholic disinfection to be a good thing, if not a smart thing), and overall these two too's make for a confusing, uncomfortable-in-a-useless-way read.

(02-21-2018, 10:18 AM)vagabond Wrote:  made me see small holes cut in that linen, cowards and a (symbolized/imagined) stand-off at high noon.
not sure if "bulletproof" fits well, not the way I used it. I'll fix it. but "ricochets of sound" and the way how those wounds are treated are thoughtful and impactful lines.

(02-21-2018, 02:04 PM)nibbed Wrote:  Hi Tiger, I will comment personally.


Terror 

You're just afraid is all,                                              that thing about fear. if only we could just bury fear instead of people. indeed

that between the lines
of flapping white linens 
hung to dry                                                             my head went to fondest memories of grandma doing laundry finally a happy accident
a noon sun asserts a light
immune to reproach.                                                I used to hide between the sheets and felt the sun on my face, safe there, clean

I see you squinting.                                                   this made me smile :Smile it's supposed to make you squint                                           

What you gonna do                                                 this part brought me to controversy
now that black is bulletproof                                      made me think about sackcloth                                
and ricochets sound                                                  and a graveyard of folks who trusted
all around you?

Get the bourbon                                                       not bourbon, but the metaphor is strong
from the gun closet
and pour it on the wounds?                                      sarcasm from the lips of someone frustrated or whose hands are tied



All I could see was a wonderful, beautiful poem written by a caring heart of a person.
Well, that's my take on it.


-nibbed

Thanks for reading and all the input from everyone. I'm aware that the piece is in need of some connective tissue, but I'm not sure where to find it yet. I'm wondering if the seeming lack of metaphor is because it is actually all metaphor without something to ground it. For something in Misc. you've given me lots to think about.
Thanks,
Paul

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#7
(02-20-2018, 07:46 AM)Tiger the Lion Wrote:  Terror

You're just afraid is all,

that between the lines
of flapping white linens 
hung to dry
a noon sun asserts a light
immune to reproach.

I see you squinting. 

What you gonna do
now that black is bulletproof           I really like this stanza, the rhyme scheme gives it a really cool feel.
and ricochets sound
all around you?

Get the bourbon
from the gun closet
and pour it on the wounds?
Reply
#8
(02-20-2018, 07:46 AM)Tiger the Lion Wrote:  Terror

You're just afraid is all,

that between the lines
of flapping white linens 
hung to dry
a noon sun asserts a light
immune to reproach.

I see you squinting. 

What you gonna do
now that black is bulletproof 
and ricochets sound
all around you?

Get the bourbon
from the gun closet
and pour it on the wounds?
This is strongly political for me - I like the nuances and implications: its just that the explicit imagery (white linen blocking sunlight, black being bulletproof, ricochets hurting, bourbon and gun southern gentleman stereotype) feels a bit too direct to me - as if the poem is laying down its secrets too easily. Then again, whether something is "too direct" is completely dependent on the perspective, and this poem is definitely not written with aesthetics as the only or overarching concern, so saying what it wants to say flat out is a reasonable thing to do, I suppose.
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