Poetry Forum

(10-13-2016, 05:40 AM)Quixilated Wrote: [ -> ]I love this.  Especially the framework poem with the winged shadow. I enjoyed how imagination jumps in and suddenly the biker has transformed into a mythological being.  I love that he never turns to look at the bird.  I enjoyed this journey, thank you.  

(10-13-2016, 04:55 AM)Leanne Wrote: [ -> ]I find this quite a fascinating bit of speculation -- but I must confess, were I to be one of those select heroines I'd probably tend to prefer the eternal roistering than the dullness of tea and small talk.  I suppose it's lucky I'm in no danger of parrot-Valkyrie collection

I love the sounds throughout this, especially wings/pinions/pirate.  I wonder if it should not be "Wagnerian Valkyrie"?  

Thank you for the opportunity for some light and delightful contemplation.

(10-12-2016, 10:16 PM)dukealien Wrote: [ -> ]Hawk Shadow/Heroines


Late Sunday morning biking west
I noticed that my shadow had grown wings
not massive pinions, smaller ones
like a parrot’s on my pirate shoulder
or (they moved around)
winged helmet of a Wagner Valkyrie ~ these last two lines a bit hard to read.
Excellent shift.
    Male Valkyries -
    what slain would they choose,
    which women, dead, raise up is the wording purposeful? Because I can understand that. 
    in strong, impassioned but unforcing arms?
    Perhaps those heroines who die
    in single combat pitting mother and her child
    against the closing circle,
    to bear and to be born? This take on childbirth, and comparing it to a battle, makes me happy.
    Their man-formed Valkyrie would lift them up
    not to eternal roistering
    but tea and calm conversations
    with others who had died in childbirth
    and sweet spirits of their stillborn bairns bairns is a bit obscure.. And by obscure I mean this is the first time I've ever seen this word in my entire life. I love new vocabulary, though.
    meeting, too, those born alive
    they never lived to greet.

~ the shadow bird kept pace.
I never turned to look:
he’d have been hidden in the sun
as my lazily pursuing hawk
meant it to be. Thus completing the winged shadow imagery. Good job, there.

You get strange visions from a little oxygen debt.

Quote:I offer very little in critique, as there isn't much I don't like about this. The wording is a little funky, but that's it. Excellent job with the shifts, by the way. Going from reality to wondering fantasy and back to reality like you did was a great read.

(10-12-2016, 10:16 PM)dukealien Wrote: [ -> ]Hawk Shadow/Heroines


Late Sunday morning biking west...............I would cut "late" and "west".
I noticed that my shadow had grown wings
not massive pinions, smaller ones
like a parrot’s on my pirate shoulder
or (they moved around)
winged helmet of a Valkyrie ~..............love the surreal take.

    Male Valkyries -
    what slain would they choose,
    which women, dead, raise up
    in strong, impassioned but unforcing arms?
    Perhaps those heroines who die
    in single combat pitting mother and her child
    against the closing circle,
    to bear and to be born?........................I think this central section goes on too long.
I would end the stanza here.

    Their man-formed Valkyrie would lift them up
    not to eternal roistering
    but tea and calm conversations
    with others who had died in childbirth
    and sweet spirits of their stillborn bairns
    meeting, too, those born alive
    they never lived to greet......................would delete these lines for form and pace sake.

~ the shadow bird kept pace.
I never turned to look:
he’d have been hidden in the sun
as my lazily pursuing hawk
meant it to be.       .......Good work!

Late Sunday morning biking west
I noticed that my shadow had grown wings
not massive pinions, smaller ones
like a parrot’s on my pirate shoulder
or (they moved around)
winged helmet of a Wagner Valkyrie ~

    Male Valkyries -
    what slain would they choose,
    which women, dead, raise up
    in strong, impassioned but unforcing arms?
    Perhaps those heroines who die
    in single combat pitting mother and her child
    against the closing circle,
    to bear and to be born?
    Their man-formed Valkyrie would lift them up
    not to eternal roistering
    but tea and calm conversations
    with others who had died in childbirth
    and sweet spirits of their stillborn bairns
    meeting, too, those born alive
    they never lived to greet.

~ the shadow bird kept pace.
I never turned to look:
he’d have been hidden in the sun
as my lazily pursuing hawk
meant it to be.

You get strange visions from a little oxygen debt.

(10-12-2016, 10:16 PM)dukealien Wrote: [ -> ]Hawk Shadow/Heroines The title drew me in.


Late Sunday morning biking west
I noticed that my shadow had grown wings
not massive pinions, smaller ones construction note: shouldn't there be an em dash before "not"?
like a parrot’s on my pirate shoulder I normally think of a parrot on a pirate's shoulder as having its wings drew back, not unfurled so. I kinda think this line is disposable: -- not massive pinions, smaller ones, / like the wings on the helm of a Valkyrie ~"
or (they moved around)
winged helmet of a Valkyrie ~

    Male Valkyries - Considering the earlier need for an em dash, and the already present tilde, maybe another mark? But an exclamation point would be too dramatic, an ellipsis too typical, and a period too breathless.... but I would rather this were an em dash, or at least a typist's substitute equivalent, ie the double hyphen.
    what slain would they choose,
    which women, dead, raise up
    in strong, impassioned but unforcing arms? Comma after impassioned? And I'd rather use a dictionary word whenever possible, so instead of unforcing, something less...forceful to the lexicon. Or even just remove it.
    Perhaps those heroines who die "died"?
    in single combat pitting mother and her child This line feels a little too long -- for one, single combat implies only two warriors fighting, and moreso, is there no way to compress "mother and her child" to one word? 
    against the closing circle, In fact, reading the earlier before this line, I thought it was mother against child -- and I do find that more dramatic, and with this narrative of Eileithyia's failures (and Electra's madness?) somewhat more appropriate. 'Perhaps those heroines who die / in single combat pitting / mother against her child?[, / labor against the closing circle?]"
    to bear and to be born?
    Their man-formed Valkyrie would lift them up Perhaps remove "man-formed" -- even switch up "Valkyrie".
    not to eternal roistering
    but tea and calm conversations "but to"?
    with others who had died in childbirth
    and sweet spirits of their stillborn bairns I feel like these lines could be compressed. "with others who had died in childbirth, / the stillborn bairns and those born live / they never lived to greet."
    meeting, too, those born alive
    they never lived to greet.

Male Valkyries --
who among the slain would they choose?
which women, dead, would they raise up
in strong, impassioned arms?
perhaps those heroines who died
in single combat pitting 
mother against her child?
Then the rider should lift them up
not to eternal roistering
but to tea and calm conversations
with others who'd died in childbirth,
the stillborn bairns and those born live
they never lived to greet.

~ the shadow bird kept pace.
I never turned to look: Why do these two lines remind me of Dickinson? which is a solid return to reality, I think.
he’d have been hidden in the sun
as my lazily pursuing hawk
meant it to be. In all, lovely -- a crow would have more thematic punch, sure, but hawk just sounds more right, and feels more....I dunno, ambivalent. Lovely work.

Late Sunday morning biking west
I noticed that my shadow had grown wings
not massive pinions, smaller ones
like a parrot’s on my pirate shoulder
or (they moved around)
winged helmet of a Wagner Valkyrie ~

    Male Valkyries -
    what slain would they choose,
    which women, dead, raise up
    in strong, impassioned but unforcing arms?
    Perhaps those heroines who die
    in single combat pitting mother and her child
    against the closing circle,
    to bear and to be born?
    Their man-formed Valkyrie would lift them up
    not to eternal roistering
    but tea and calm conversations
    with others who had died in childbirth
    and sweet spirits of their stillborn bairns
    meeting, too, those born alive
    they never lived to greet.

~ the shadow bird kept pace.
I never turned to look:
he’d have been hidden in the sun
as my lazily pursuing hawk
meant it to be.

You get strange visions from a little oxygen debt.