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Leaves are falling
Fading into shades of many hues and drying out-
The boys all drink in October
(07-16-2013, 10:37 PM)Brownlie Wrote: [ -> ]Leaves are falling
Fading into shades of many hues and drying out-
The boys all drink in October

Good, but needs a change or two. If I may:

leaves
falling into pools of puke
the boys all drink in october

(07-16-2013, 11:19 PM)rayheinrich Wrote: [ -> ]
(07-16-2013, 10:37 PM)Brownlie Wrote: [ -> ]Leaves are falling
Fading into shades of many hues and drying out-
The boys all drink in October

Good, but needs a change or two. If I may:

leaves
falling into pools of puke
the boys all drink in october


I feel my version is more ambiguous which means that it could mean everything. Hysterical Yours is funnier and it provides a more vivid scene.
(07-16-2013, 11:51 PM)Brownlie Wrote: [ -> ]
(07-16-2013, 11:19 PM)rayheinrich Wrote: [ -> ]
(07-16-2013, 10:37 PM)Brownlie Wrote: [ -> ]Leaves are falling
Fading into shades of many hues and drying out-
The boys all drink in October

Good, but needs a change or two. If I may:

leaves
falling into pools of puke
the boys all drink in october
I feel my version is more ambiguous which means that it could mean everything. Hysterical Yours is funnier and it provides a more vivid scene.

Yes, I went for the cheap joke; yours is the better poem now that I'm
beginning to understand its complexities and the various levels of metaphor
you so ingeniously engineered:

'Leaves are falling' -> One by one, according to their individual capacities
for handling alcohol, they are getting falling down drunk.

'Fading into shades of many hues' -> Again, according to their individual
capacities for handling alcohol their nausea, hangovers, etc. turn their
skin, eyes, etc. various shades of color though all face fading as the
blood drains from their faces.
This, of course, is only the literal first level of metaphor as the
'fading' and 'shades of many hues' denotes the effects this behavior
has on their physical, social, and psychological lives.

'drying out' -> On the first level it's just a term for alcohol detoxification.
On the spiritual level it goes something like: "If we seek the truth, develop
faith in Him, and … sincerely repent, we will receive a spiritual change of
heart which only comes from our Savior." and various other crap but that's
enough for now.

'boys', 'drink', and 'october' all have their multiple levels as well, but
the complexities of your poem are vitiating the hell out of my poor brain
and I must terminate this endeavor forthwith.

I am humbled.

As always, your obedient servant:
Ray



(07-17-2013, 02:22 PM)billy Wrote: [ -> ]stop being nasty

Both Brownie's and mine are way better than this one.
To start off with, it only has 1 line! Though I guess it could be reformatted
to have 3 lines:

stop
being
nasty

But even with 3 lines it lacks words and content; though, I must admit, it does possess
a certain presumptuous yeastiness that I almost find appealing.

Yours in poetic accord and fellowship (not to mention comradeship, confederation,
harmony, oneness, support, undividedness, unification, and union).

Ray
(07-17-2013, 02:16 PM)rayheinrich Wrote: [ -> ]
(07-16-2013, 11:51 PM)Brownlie Wrote: [ -> ]
(07-16-2013, 11:19 PM)rayheinrich Wrote: [ -> ]
Good, but needs a change or two. If I may:

leaves
falling into pools of puke
the boys all drink in october
I feel my version is more ambiguous which means that it could mean everything. :hysterical: Yours is funnier and it provides a more vivid scene.

Yes, I went for the cheap joke; yours is the better poem now that I'm
beginning to understand its complexities and the various levels of metaphor
you so ingeniously engineered:

'Leaves are falling' -> One by one, according to their individual capacities
for handling alcohol, they are getting falling down drunk.

'Fading into shades of many hues' -> Again, according to their individual
capacities for handling alcohol their nausea, hangovers, etc. turn their
skin, eyes, etc. various shades of color though all face fading as the
blood drains from their faces.
This, of course, is only the literal first level of metaphor as the
'fading' and 'shades of many hues' denotes the effects this behavior
has on their physical, social, and psychological lives.

'drying out' -> On the first level it's just a term for alcohol detoxification.
On the spiritual level it goes something like: "If we seek the truth, develop
faith in Him, and … sincerely repent, we will receive a spiritual change of
heart which only comes from our Savior." and various other crap but that's
enough for now.

'boys', 'drink', and 'october' all have their multiple levels as well, but
the complexities of your poem are vitiating the hell out of my poor brain
and I must terminate this endeavor forthwith.

I am humbled.

As always, your obedient servant:
Ray



(07-17-2013, 02:22 PM)billy Wrote: [ -> ]stop being nasty

Both Brownie's and mine are way better than this one.
To start off with, it only has 1 line! Though I guess it could be reformatted
to have 3 lines:

stop
being
nasty

But even with 3 lines it lacks words and content; though, I must admit, it does possess
a certain presumptuous yeastiness that I almost find appealing.

Yours in poetic accord and fellowship (not to mention comradeship, confederation,
harmony, oneness, support, undividedness, unification, and union).

Ray

:hysterical: You give me too much credit some of that metaphorical meaning was by accident some was intentional. The ambiguity led to the multifarious layers of metaphor. Every word refers to something and when you open them up the point of reference can become convoluted. Puns open up a word to a wealth of meaning. The last lines of To His Coy Mistress ends with a sort of pun that I'm not sure Marvell meant.

Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run. -- Did he mean sun or son? certainly if it is son then Marvell is deriding carpe diem. If not, It is a love poem where he is praising carpe diem. Of course, you could say he wrote sun so that is what he meant. However, one could argue he was being more subtle with the pun. These are how interpretation can go I suppose someone might come along and say what I've just written here is rubbish. The title "To His Coy Mistress" Shows a certain disassociation from the narrator and writer.
(07-17-2013, 10:25 PM)Brownlie Wrote: [ -> ]Hysterical You give me too much credit some of that metaphorical meaning was by accident some was intentional. of difference
The ambiguity led to the multifarious layers of metaphor. Every word refers to something and when you open them up the point of reference can become convoluted. Puns open up a word to a wealth of meaning. The last lines of To His Coy Mistress ends with a sort of pun that I'm not sure Marvell meant.
Yes, the age-old problem of writer and/or reader not knowing
what was consciously intentional, what was accident, and
(most problematic) what was subconsciously written. While it's possible
(sometimes) for the writer figure out the first two, he sure as hell
can't be sure about the last. The reader, of course, can't tell any of
them apart; and what's worse, has to interpret using a different
(as you said) point of reference. AND: Has a subconscience as well.

It's a wonder anything ever gets communicated correctly
(probably the only time it does is by fortuitous accident).

(The Chernobyl disaster was partly due to misinterpreting
an operating manual.)


(07-17-2013, 10:25 PM)Brownlie Wrote: [ -> ]Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run. -- Did he mean sun or son? certainly if it is son then Marvell is deriding carpe diem. If not, It is a love poem where he is praising carpe diem. Of course, you could say he wrote sun so that is what he meant. However, one could argue he was being more subtle with the pun. These are how interpretation can go I suppose someone might come along and say what I've just written here is rubbish. The title "To His Coy Mistress" Shows a certain disassociation from the narrator and writer.

Writing induces all sorts of dissociative states.
When I write I don't have toes; when I WRITE I'm only fingers.