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Coda for a Silent Response

Today, the dog park topic 
was Death.

I know the loss, 
but no longer the urge
to desecrate that void 
with words to strangers.

Noon, and the sun distills my silence
into a cardinal’s song.





Coda for a Silent Response



Today, the dog park topic was Death:

wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.



I know the loss, 

but not the urge

to desecrate that void 

with words to strangers.



At noon:

the sun stills the memory

with a cardinal’s song.











Silent Response







This morning



the dog park topic 



was Death:



wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.



I should have been more



empathetic: I know the loss, 



but not the urge



to desecrate that void 



with words to strangers.







Illumination at noon:



the sun tossing Death aside, 



pulling up the cardinal 



I’m listening to now.































Silent Response















Today, the dog park topic was Death:







wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.







I should have been empathetic:







I know the loss, but not the urge







to desecrate the void with words to strangers.















Redeemed by noon’s bitter sun, I repent,







like the cardinal I’m listening to now.







































Senecio’s High Noon Saturday































I grow dirty,















let my beard go native,















find most people tiresome















or terrifying, sometimes both at the same time.































Today, the dog park topic















was death.















Jeez Louise, I know enough of death.































Now I know more,















but there are no answers in talk,















hearing that static, that white noise















reminds me: Death demands my absolute attention















like the cardinal I’m listening to now.















































































































































































































Senecio’s High Noon Saturday































































Before second childhood































comes second puberty,































































I grow dirty,































let my beard go native,































find most people tiresome































or terrifying.































































Today, the dog park topic































was death.































Jeez Louise, I know enough of death.































































Now I know more,































but it’s no solution, just to talk,































talk is static.  White noise.































































Death demands your absolute attention































like the cardinal I’m listening to now.































Hi Tim-
cool beans, simple story, and relatable


Senecio’s High Noon Saturday an on-going story, cool

Before second childhood
comes second puberty,
  this is telling without showing, and a confusing statement, at that.

I grow dirty,  this is where you should start
let my beard go native,
find most people tiresome
or terrifying.

Today, the dog park topic
was death. good line break to this line, which stands alone
Jeez Louise, I know enough of death. the dog park offers a simple, yet realistic sense of place. The 'jeez Louise' cliche is appropriate in this instance.

Now I know more,
but it’s no solution, just to talk,
talk is static.  White noise. more telling!  'just to hear' would make it personal: something like 'just to hear this talk, like white noise' . Ya gotta make it personal to you, but of course, in your own words.

Death demands your absolute attention no, no, no! yet more telling. 'your' being the culprit. Yes, 'your' can mean 'mine', but why not 'my'?
like the cardinal I’m listening to now. perfect ending

The last line should by preceded by a line regarding life. A simple act in life that is the focus of attention, 'like the cardinal...' 

This one only needs a few tweeks in order to work most effectively.  The 'telling' parts almost ruin it (for me).The whole poem is predicated on the last line: the song (life) of a cardinal, an action in real life, can help balance out thoughts of death, or hearing talk of death. 

I want to like this one more, 
Mark
(03-12-2023, 04:29 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: [ -> ]Hi Tim-
cool beans, simple story, and relatable


Senecio’s High Noon Saturday an on-going story, cool

Before second childhood
comes second puberty,
  this is telling without showing, and a confusing statement, at that.

I grow dirty,  this is where you should start
let my beard go native,
find most people tiresome
or terrifying.

Today, the dog park topic
was death. good line break to this line, which stands alone
Jeez Louise, I know enough of death. the dog park offers a simple, yet realistic sense of place. The 'jeez Louise' cliche is appropriate in this instance.

Now I know more,
but it’s no solution, just to talk,
talk is static.  White noise. more telling!  'just to hear' would make it personal: something like 'just to hear this talk, like white noise' . Ya gotta make it personal to you, but of course, in your own words. 

Death demands your absolute attention no, no, no! yet more telling. 'your' being the culprit. Yes, 'your' can mean 'mine', but why not 'my'?
like the cardinal I’m listening to now. perfect ending

The last line should by preceded by a line regarding life. A simple act in life that is the focus of attention, 'like the cardinal...' 

This one only needs a few tweeks in order to work most effectively.  The 'telling' parts almost ruin it (for me).The whole poem is predicated on the last line: the song (life) of a cardinal, an action in real life, can help balance out thoughts of death, or hearing talk od death. 

I want to like this one more, 
Mark

Thanks for the detailed critique.  Very helpful.  I can see most of the changes pretty easily, except maybe inserting a line before the cardinal last line.  Have to ponder that one.

I have ambivalent feelings about the show/tell business.  "Tell" seems too important a tool to ban from poetry.

Tim
Edited version posted.

I need a new title.
TqB,

I'm not sure who Senecio is, so, since I might not know this piece of context that would allow me to read deeper into the poem, I will do my best to comment on other things.
(03-12-2023, 03:37 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: [ -> ]Senecio’s High Noon Saturday

I grow dirty, I like the decision you make to open the poem here, but can this line be more specific? e.g.  "Dirt gathers underneath my nails..." or something to that effect. I can also appreciate your choice to leave this line as is bc I think it lets the R know early on the tone of the poem.
let my beard go native, I like the phrasing here
find most people tiresome
or terrifying, sometimes both at the same time.

Today, the dog park topic
was death.
Jeez Louise, I know enough of death. I feel like this is a line that's going over my head bc I don't know who Senecio is, so I'm not sure what is meant by "enough"

Now I know more,
but there are no answers in talk,
hearing that static, that white noise unsure what static that the N is referring to
reminds me: Death demands my absolute attention
like the cardinal I’m listening to now. This is an interesting ending since we know Senecio is at a dog park, so it would be hard to pick out a cardinal's call unless he's listening for it for all the doggy noises that might be going on. So is Death demanding Senecio's attention or is Senecio devoting his attention to Death?












Senecio’s High Noon Saturday



Before second childhood

comes second puberty,



I grow dirty,

let my beard go native,

find most people tiresome

or terrifying.



Today, the dog park topic

was death.

Jeez Louise, I know enough of death.



Now I know more,

but it’s no solution, just to talk,

talk is static.  White noise.



Death demands your absolute attention

like the cardinal I’m listening to now.

(03-13-2023, 07:57 AM)Velasco Wrote: [ -> ]TqB,

I'm not sure who Senecio is, so, since I might not know this piece of context that would allow me to read deeper into the poem, I will do my best to comment on other things.
(03-12-2023, 03:37 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: [ -> ]Senecio’s High Noon Saturday

I grow dirty, I like the decision you make to open the poem here, but can this line be more specific? e.g.  "Dirt gathers underneath my nails..." or something to that effect. I can also appreciate your choice to leave this line as is bc I think it lets the R know early on the tone of the poem.
let my beard go native, I like the phrasing here
find most people tiresome
or terrifying, sometimes both at the same time.

Today, the dog park topic
was death.
Jeez Louise, I know enough of death. I feel like this is a line that's going over my head bc I don't know who Senecio is, so I'm not sure what is meant by "enough"

Now I know more,
but there are no answers in talk,
hearing that static, that white noise unsure what static that the N is referring to
reminds me: Death demands my absolute attention
like the cardinal I’m listening to now. This is an interesting ending since we know Senecio is at a dog park, so it would be hard to pick out a cardinal's call unless he's listening for it for all the doggy noises that might be going on. So is Death demanding Senecio's attention or is Senecio devoting his attention to Death?












Senecio’s High Noon Saturday



Before second childhood

comes second puberty,



I grow dirty,

let my beard go native,

find most people tiresome

or terrifying.



Today, the dog park topic

was death.

Jeez Louise, I know enough of death.



Now I know more,

but it’s no solution, just to talk,

talk is static.  White noise.



Death demands your absolute attention

like the cardinal I’m listening to now.


Thanks Velasco,

I've posted something, more a new poem than an edit, but still trying to get my idea across, based on your and Mark's comments.  Hope this version offers something clearer.
(03-12-2023, 03:37 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: [ -> ]Silent Response

Wow Tim-
that's quite an edit, which tells me that you are really invested in getting this one right, and I mostly agree with what you've done. I think line breaks to shorten some of the longer lines would slow the reading (odd how longer lines actually read quicker, ain't it?. 


Silent Response

Today, the dog park topic
was Death:
wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.
I should have been more
empathetic: I know the loss,
but not the urge
to desecrate the void 'that void' since loss is a specific void
with words to strangers.

Redeemed by noon’s bitter sun, I repent,This line is the critical turn to the final line.  'redeemed' 'bitter' and 'repent' just don't seem like the right words, and they don't turn convincingly to the final line.  
like the cardinal I’m listening to now. This simile demands something to be compared to from the previous line.  Otherwise what's the cardinal being compared to? I don't see what that is in the previous line: comparing the cardinal to 'I repent' just doesn't make sense, because cardinals don't repent. They may change their songs, but not their minds, or hearts.

I think yer close to crossing the finish line with this one.
Mark


ps. - I've thought about it some more, and think you need a penultimate line that speaks to seeking an answer, since that is what the cardinal is doing with its song- seeking an answer. Something about sitting in a shadow of the sun would be cool, too.  A line in that regard would make much more sense, and would also complete this piece.
(03-14-2023, 04:23 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: [ -> ]
(03-12-2023, 03:37 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: [ -> ]Silent Response

Wow Tim-
that's quite an edit, which tells me that you are really invested in getting this one right, and I mostly agree with what you've done. I think line breaks to shorten some of the longer lines would slow the reading (odd how longer lines actually read quicker, ain't it?. 


Silent Response

Today, the dog park topic
was Death:
wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.
I should have been more
empathetic: I know the loss,
but not the urge
to desecrate the void 'that void' since loss is a specific void
with words to strangers.

Redeemed by noon’s bitter sun, I repent,This line is the critical turn to the final line.  'redeemed' 'bitter' and 'repent' just don't seem like the right words, and they don't turn convincingly to the final line.  
like the cardinal I’m listening to now. This simile demands something to be compared to from the previous line.  Otherwise what's the cardinal being compared to? I don't see what that is in the previous line: comparing the cardinal to 'I repent' just doesn't make sense, because cardinals don't repent. They may change their songs, but not their minds, or hearts.

I think yer close to crossing the finish line with this one.
Mark


ps. - I've thought about it some more, and think you need a penultimate line that speaks to seeking an answer, since that is what the cardinal is doing with its song- seeking an answer. Something about sitting in a shadow of the sun would be cool, too.  A line in that regard would make much more sense, and would also complete this piece.

Thanks for nudging me forward.  I've posted another edit.  Last lines are another stab at what I hope to convey.

Tim
(03-15-2023, 02:54 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: [ -> ]Thanks for nudging me forward.  I've posted another edit.  Last lines are another stab at what I hope to convey.
Tim

Dang Tim- it's like torture by a thousand cuts (edits), ain't it? How 'bout this? :

Silent Response

This morning
the dog park topic
was Death:
wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.
I should have been more
empathetic: I know the loss,
but not the urge
to desecrate that void
with words to strangers.

Illumination at noon: the sun
tossing Death
back to the shadows,
revealing the cardinal
I listen to now.
The revised version is a well written little poem. Perhaps needing some more editing (I should…empathetic). The cardinal singing remains an enigma.
All very well. But quite forgettable. It’s like many other poems on the topic.

The original was original. It was brilliant. The cardinal’s singing was a fit ending.
The reference to Louise gave it immediacy.

It was perfect in my book.
(03-15-2023, 05:08 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: [ -> ][

Dang Tim- it's like torture by a thousand cuts (edits), ain't it? How 'bout this? :



Silent Response



This morning

the dog park topic

was Death:

wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.

I should have been more

empathetic: I know the loss,

but not the urge

to desecrate that void

with words to strangers.



Illumination at noon: the sun

tossing Death

back to the shadows,

revealing the cardinal

I listen to now.


Yep, and I'm just about bled out.  Thinking of tossing the cardinal and leaving it at this:


This morning
the dog park topic 
was Death:
wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.

I know the loss, 
but not the urge
to desecrate that void 
with words to strangers.

(03-15-2023, 07:57 AM)busker Wrote: [ -> ]The original was original. It was brilliant. The cardinal’s singing was a fit ending.
The reference to Louise gave it immediacy.

It was perfect in my book.

Thank you.  Suffering a little whiplash here, but that's what makes the forum....a forum.  Castalia ain't got nothing on Pig Pen.
(03-15-2023, 11:26 PM)TranquillityBase Wrote: [ -> ]
(03-15-2023, 05:08 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: [ -> ][

Dang Tim- it's like torture by a thousand cuts (edits), ain't it? How 'bout this? :



Silent Response



This morning

the dog park topic

was Death:

wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.

I should have been more

empathetic: I know the loss,

but not the urge

to desecrate that void

with words to strangers.



Illumination at noon: the sun

tossing Death

back to the shadows,

revealing the cardinal

I listen to now.


Yep, and I'm just about bled out.  Thinking of tossing the cardinal and leaving it at this:


This morning
the dog park topic 
was Death:
wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.

I know the loss, 
but not the urge
to desecrate that void 
with words to strangers.

(03-15-2023, 07:57 AM)busker Wrote: [ -> ]The original was original. It was brilliant. The cardinal’s singing was a fit ending.
The reference to Louise gave it immediacy.

It was perfect in my book.

Thank you.  Suffering a little whiplash here, but that's what makes the forum....a forum.  Castalia ain't got nothing on Pig Pen.
Hi TqB,
Coming in late to muddy the waters.  I find the image of the cardinal an important part of the narrative as it brings the narrator from musings about death back to the present and its simple beauty provides refuge from life's shit.  A subtle but powerful message about how finding simple pleasures in our daily lives gets us through. A single well worded stand alone line or two would suffice.
My two cents.
(03-15-2023, 11:26 PM)TranquillityBase Wrote: [ -> ] Thinking of tossing the cardinal

Hey Tim-
Hang in there.  Do NOT toss the cardinal. That last line offers the contrast that your poem requires. Just take a deep breath. Let it sit for a few days, then circle back. You'll figure this one out.
Mark
(03-12-2023, 03:37 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: [ -> ]Silent Response

This morning
the dog park topic 
was Death:  
wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.
I should have been more 
empathetic: I know the loss, 
but not the urge
to desecrate that void 
with words to strangers.

Illumination at noon:
the sun tossinges Death aside, 
pulling up the cardinal 
I’m listening to now.


Its great reading through the iterations. I think you’ve nearly nailed the ending. I think I prefer the line breaks in your previous version for the first stanza. I’m not entirely sure what the enjambment is doing. Perhaps the ambiguity of the line “I should have been more” ? The first three lines read smoother to me together though, as it feels like a set up and I’d rather not diddy around on it. On that same note I think “today” is maybe fine in place of “this morning” ? This morning is more specific and plays off the “noon” at the end, I just like that “today” is quicker so I get to the meat of the poem sooner. But I’m not sure, either way honestly. I suggested changing tossing to tosses because I felt like tosses was more immediate and that it would emphasize the shift more from the previous conversation. Reading this I felt like I could relate to your sentiment about not wanting to share your grief with strangers, and I think the move to the bird is beautiful. The dry language of the first stanza is fitting of the mood. Thank you for sharing




Silent Response



Today, the dog park topic was Death:

wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.

I should have been empathetic:

I know the loss, but not the urge

to desecrate the void with words to strangers.



Redeemed by noon’s bitter sun, I repent,

like the cardinal I’m listening to now.









Senecio’s High Noon Saturday







I grow dirty,



let my beard go native,



find most people tiresome



or terrifying, sometimes both at the same time.







Today, the dog park topic



was death.



Jeez Louise, I know enough of death.







Now I know more,



but there are no answers in talk,



hearing that static, that white noise



reminds me: Death demands my absolute attention



like the cardinal I’m listening to now.



















































Senecio’s High Noon Saturday















Before second childhood







comes second puberty,















I grow dirty,







let my beard go native,







find most people tiresome







or terrifying.















Today, the dog park topic







was death.







Jeez Louise, I know enough of death.















Now I know more,







but it’s no solution, just to talk,







talk is static.  White noise.















Death demands your absolute attention







like the cardinal I’m listening to now.








(03-12-2023, 03:37 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: [ -> ]Silent Response

This morning
the dog park topic 
was Death:  
wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.
I should have been more 
empathetic: I know the loss, 
but not the urge
to desecrate that void 
with words to strangers.

Illumination at noon:
the sun tossinges Death aside, 
pulling up the cardinal 
I’m listening to now.


Its great reading through the iterations. I think you’ve nearly nailed the ending. I think I prefer the line breaks in your previous version for the first stanza. I’m not entirely sure what the enjambment is doing. Perhaps the ambiguity of the line “I should have been more” ? The first three lines read smoother to me together though, as it feels like a set up and I’d rather not diddy around on it. On that same note I think “today” is maybe fine in place of “this morning” ? This morning is more specific and plays off the moon at the end, I just like that “today” is quicker so I get to the meat of the poem sooner. But I’m not sure, either way honestly. I suggested changing tossing to tosses because I felt like tosses was more immediate and that it would emphasize the shift more from the previous conversation. Reading this I felt like I could relate to your sentiment about not wanting to share your grief with strangers, and I think the move to the bird is beautiful. The dry language of the first stanza is fitting of the mood. Thank you for sharing




Silent Response



Today, the dog park topic was Death:

wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.

I should have been empathetic:

I know the loss, but not the urge

to desecrate the void with words to strangers.



Redeemed by noon’s bitter sun, I repent,

like the cardinal I’m listening to now.









Senecio’s High Noon Saturday







I grow dirty,



let my beard go native,



find most people tiresome



or terrifying, sometimes both at the same time.







Today, the dog park topic



was death.



Jeez Louise, I know enough of death.







Now I know more,



but there are no answers in talk,



hearing that static, that white noise



reminds me: Death demands my absolute attention



like the cardinal I’m listening to now.



















































Senecio’s High Noon Saturday















Before second childhood







comes second puberty,















I grow dirty,







let my beard go native,







find most people tiresome







or terrifying.















Today, the dog park topic







was death.







Jeez Louise, I know enough of death.















Now I know more,







but it’s no solution, just to talk,







talk is static.  White noise.















Death demands your absolute attention







like the cardinal I’m listening to now.







Thanks Bryn, Mark and Miley,

A new version with your comments in mind is posted.  Thank you for taking the time to read and comment.

I'd just about given up on this one, but your critiques and a little distance helped me find something I'm happy with.

TqB
(03-12-2023, 03:37 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: [ -> ]Coda for a Silent Response

Today, the dog park topic was Death:
wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer. This is an interesting mix of images. If it were husbands being lost I'd think of war immediately, but it's wives in this case. Was this a purge of some sort?

I know the loss, 
but not the urge how do you feel about rephrasing as "no longer the urge,"? Imo it would read smoother
to desecrate that void 
with words to strangers. Love these 2 lines and the idea of this "void being sacred" it implies. Though, the hardest thing to follow is what this void is in reference to. Death?

At noon:
the sun stills the memory unless the N is referring to a specific memory, I'd consider removing "the" before "memory". Otherwise, I'm not sure what memory the N is talking about.
with a cardinal’s song.





Silent Response



This morning

the dog park topic 

was Death:

wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.

I should have been more

empathetic: I know the loss, 

but not the urge

to desecrate that void 

with words to strangers.



Illumination at noon:

the sun tossing Death aside, 

pulling up the cardinal 

I’m listening to now.















Silent Response







Today, the dog park topic was Death:



wives lost, decomposed bodies, cancer.



I should have been empathetic:



I know the loss, but not the urge



to desecrate the void with words to strangers.







Redeemed by noon’s bitter sun, I repent,



like the cardinal I’m listening to now.



















Senecio’s High Noon Saturday















I grow dirty,







let my beard go native,







find most people tiresome







or terrifying, sometimes both at the same time.















Today, the dog park topic







was death.







Jeez Louise, I know enough of death.















Now I know more,







but there are no answers in talk,







hearing that static, that white noise







reminds me: Death demands my absolute attention







like the cardinal I’m listening to now.







































































































Senecio’s High Noon Saturday































Before second childhood















comes second puberty,































I grow dirty,















let my beard go native,















find most people tiresome















or terrifying.































Today, the dog park topic















was death.















Jeez Louise, I know enough of death.































Now I know more,















but it’s no solution, just to talk,















talk is static.  White noise.































Death demands your absolute attention















like the cardinal I’m listening to now.















You've done some heavy cutting for this piece which shows that there is a specific message I think you're trying really hard to hone in on. I appreciate the poem for its language and the way it sounds, but the meanings aren't coming through for me, which could definitely be a fault on my end. I've enjoyed seeing this piece change from edit to edit so far Smile

Alex