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Threads: 285
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(These are NOT intended as haiku, they're just poems with 2 stanzas of 3 lines.)
![[Image: flowertale.jpg]](http://wordbiscuit.com/im9/flowertale.jpg)
< 8 flower tales >
1 -
all winter
the spring
grew inside us
now
our mouths open
and flowers tumble out
2 -
the rush of sprouting
of the shoots
that push aside old leaves
of stems ascending
as the buds
inflate to airy flowers
3 -
the bees warn us
as the mouths of flowers
open wide to swallow us
but since it's spring
we jump
right in
4 -
wheels
their axles
through the ground
swerve over us
with the curve
of the sky
5 -
as the afternoon
advances
the petals add
determining
if you are loved
or not
6 -
the dustbin
holds
these yellow flowers
tears
you're not sure
who they're for
7 -
the roundness
of a face
above us
the pleasant sense
of color
that continues
8 -
after the steady
flowing
of years
the grace
of our hands
turns to flowers
- - -
a brightly colored fungus that grows in bark inclusions
Posts: 750
Threads: 407
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(10-23-2015, 08:22 PM)rayheinrich Wrote: (These are NOT intended as haiku, they're just poems with 2 stanzas of 3 lines.)
Hey Ray. I enjoyed these. They make a nice set. Some observations...
< 8 flower tales >
1 -
all winter
the spring
grew inside us
now
our mouths open
and flowers tumble out Like this one most
2 -
the rush of sprouting
of shoots 2nd "of" sounds awkward
pushing aside old leaves
of stems ascending
as the buds
inflate to airy flowers Love the combo of "inflate" and "airy"
3 -
the bees warn us
as the mouths of flowers
open wide to swallow us
but since it's spring
we jump
right in
4 -
wheels
their axles
through the ground
swerve over us
with the curve
of the sky swerve/curve make nice bookends
5 -
as the afternoon
advances
the petals add
determining
if you are loved
or not just the right amount of nostalgia
6 -
the waste basket
holds
these yellow flowers
tears
you're not sure
who they're for
7 -
the roundness
of a face
above us
the pleasant sense
of color
that continues
8 -
after the steady
flowing
of years
the grace
of our hands
turns to flowers
- - -
Posts: 1,121
Threads: 459
Joined: Nov 2013
(10-23-2015, 08:22 PM)rayheinrich Wrote: (These are NOT intended as haiku, they're just poems with 2 stanzas of 3 lines.)
Well, I'm growing to hate blank space. Scrolling's such a bother without a proper keyboard!
< 8 flower tales >
1 -
all winter
the spring
grew inside us And I just finished rewatching "Frost & Fire", plus a few other episodes of Adventure Time. I'm gonna comment at all this again with those in mind.
now
our mouths open
and flowers tumble out As before, I don't exactly see why "tumble" instead of "fall". The more varied meanings of fall makes for a more novel read, methinks: vomiting rainbows (funny), fluttering moths (horrific), both--
2 -
the rush of sprouting
of shoots A bit thrown by the lack of a comma here. But not enough for a change of styles.
pushing aside old leaves
of stems ascending
as the buds
inflate to airy flowers "Airy" speaks "farts and balloons" to me; with "inflate", those silly thoughts could easily overpower "flowers".
3 -
the bees warn us Breezy!
Second run: I love this line so much now. Vivid, strong, and loaded perfectly: oh! Not unique on its own, sure, but the perfectest little cog in the machine!
as the mouths of flowers
open wide to swallow us
but since it's spring
we jump
right in And so the turn. Second run: or, the beginning of it. Smooth like nectar.
4 -
wheels
their axles
through the ground
swerve over us
with the curve
of the sky Segment I don't entirely understand yet. I'll return some other time with hopefully better understanding. For now, "their axles / through the ground" makes me see actual axles running piercing mother earth (oohlala), and "swerve over us" feels like an aborted image (oh my dearest).
And so, that was quick. I still don't, to the fullest, but enough I think to continue on. My earlier points still stand, though I can now understand how they could be deliberate (or at least the second one could) -- but ah, the stars!
5 -
as the afternoon
advances
the petals add
determining
if you are loved
or not Here we go, deeper into the thing! I must add that "advances" and "determining" feel ever so slightly superfluous; they add crucial movements, but only movements, and one that could be mixed with their neighboring lines. Still.
6 -
the waste basket
holds
these yellow flowers Back to the flowers, now duly described. Here, we get to the height of the last two segments: now, the stars, the flowers, and the lovers are one. But now, it is past afternoon, and there shall be no nights in white satin for these sweets (haha!) -- it passed not to joy, but to sadness, to sorrow, to stains on the sheets and bits on the bedpan, to sleep....
The repetition of styles here from the fifth part's first strophe feels funky, though, in a bad way. "Holds" could be a fuller word, and it could perhaps be expanded into its neighbors; and does it have to be waste basket? That image feels somewhat too strong for the rest of it, especially with the very explicit next stanza.
Second run: question more for editorial purposes, really. What in Glob's name is the difference between a stanza and strophe, exactly?
tears
you're not sure
who they're for See? This is the most, well, obvious, direct bit of the whole piece, and this is very good in hammering the last nail upon, but "the waste basket" sort of waters down the salt. As much as soft movements are nice, at least in this case, the sudden surprise just feels more natural, or at least more poetical.
7 -
the roundness Here's where I would expect a break in format: now leaning into that other poet I've read a lot of (though not yet nearly as much as he has released), I think this stanza would be better fused with the earlier one. The numerical break feels too far a distance, and the earlier part too ungraceful alone.
of a face
above us
the pleasant sense
of color
that continues I can see red being swallowed by blue -- I can see the surroundings being muted. Not too pleasant at this point for me, but I'm reading "pleasant" as irony.
8 -
after the steady
flowing
of years Ah. Nice one.
Second run: I will always love the word "steady", especially at the end of a line.
the grace
of our hands
turns to flowers "turns to" could just as well be "becomes", but of course "becomes" has fewer meanings than "turns to". Now here, I'm not sure what on that point you're exactly stating, so a bit of enlightenment's welcome. Beautiful ending: reminds me of, again, Breezy (oh flower), and this, sort of:
And the picture is perfect.
- - -
Obviously I loved all of it. Except the bloody blank space, haha.
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I'm not sure what it says about my mood this morning, but I was particularly drawn to the fatalism of 4 and 8. Using not-kus to somewhat confuse (con-fus?) the reader who must have labels for all things makes life just that little bit more flowery. And of course, both 3 and 8 are Fibonacci numbers, and we all know that flowers are properly Fibonacci'd because the internet hasn't shut up about that... but I digress. I think.
And me, I like white space. Silence allows you to gather your own thoughts.
Much is sensual here. Mouths, curves, hands. Sprouting, shooting, swallowing. There is vitality, but a soft awareness of a more eternal cycle. I wonder, are there any mysteries that the bees haven't already figured out?
It could be worse
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(10-24-2015, 06:33 AM)Leanne Wrote: And me, I like white space. Silence allows you to gather your own thoughts. That was meant to be a bit of a joke xP
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(10-24-2015, 06:33 AM)Leanne Wrote: I'm not sure what it says about my mood this morning, but I was particularly drawn to the fatalism of 4 and 8. Using not-kus to somewhat confuse (con-fus?) the reader who must have labels for all things makes life just that little bit more flowery. 
(10-24-2015, 06:33 AM)Leanne Wrote: And of course, both 3 and 8 are Fibonacci numbers, and we all know that flowers are properly Fibonacci'd because the internet hasn't shut up about that... 
(10-24-2015, 06:33 AM)Leanne Wrote: but I digress. I think.
And me, I like white space. Silence allows you to gather your own thoughts. And "Americans" are always bemoaning those "dreadful" "foreign" films.
Those ones that have the temerity to pause between "action sequences" to allow
for "thought" -- whatever that is.
(10-24-2015, 06:33 AM)Leanne Wrote: Much is sensual here. Mouths, curves, hands. Sprouting, shooting, swallowing. There is vitality, but a soft awareness of a more eternal cycle. You are too kind, milady.
(10-24-2015, 06:33 AM)Leanne Wrote: I wonder, are there any mysteries that the bees haven't already figured out? How to keep us from stealing their honey?
And as for bees!.
I know you profess to be less than enchanted with her poetry.
(It's not her, I suspect; it's just that you can't stand her obnoxious cultists -- which, truly, I hate as well.)
But Plath's bee poems RULE (dude).
(10-23-2015, 09:14 PM)Tiger the Lion Wrote: 2 -
the rush of sprouting
of shoots 2nd "of" sounds awkward
pushing aside old leaves
of stems ascending
as the buds
inflate to airy flowers You're right. I read it so many thousand times that I MADE it work in my head.
I thought of changing that line to "the rush of shoots", but I think adding a "the"
making it "of the shoots" works as well and (important to me), it preserves the geometry.
Changed it. Work for you?
(10-23-2015, 11:08 PM)RiverNotch Wrote:
Well, I'm growing to hate blank space. Scrolling's such a bother without a proper keyboard! Ha, yeah, I just tried reading it on my smart phone. Just about burned my fingertip.
But: Proper art requires suffering.
And, since the 8 are also poems in and of themselves, I think they deserve their own space.
(10-23-2015, 11:08 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: [And I just finished rewatching "Frost & Fire", plus a few other episodes of Adventure Time. I'm gonna comment at all this again with those in mind. Adventure Time! I'm unworthy to have my words surround its very name.
(10-23-2015, 11:08 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: our mouths open
and flowers tumble out As before, I don't exactly see why "tumble" instead of "fall". The more varied meanings of fall makes for a more novel read, methinks: vomiting rainbows (funny), fluttering moths (horrific), both-- If I were to change it, it couldn't be "fall" as these poems are mostly constructed using
iambs (and anapaest's when the first two syllables are really short) so "fall" would
mess up the rhythm.
The replacement would need to be a two syllable word with the stress on the first syllable.
(10-23-2015, 11:08 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: the rush of sprouting
of shoots A bit thrown by the lack of a comma here. But not enough for a change of styles.
pushing aside old leaves
of stems ascending
as the buds
inflate to airy flowers "Airy" speaks "farts and balloons" to me; with "inflate", those silly thoughts could easily overpower "flowers". I'm open to suggestions. You write me a better one and I'll be happy to steal it from you and put it in.
(10-23-2015, 11:08 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: the bees warn us Breezy!
Second run: I love this line so much now. Vivid, strong, and loaded perfectly: oh! Not unique on its own, sure, but the perfectest little cog in the machine! Great! Cause it's one of my FAV's as well.
(10-23-2015, 11:08 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: wheels
their axles
through the ground
swerve over us
with the curve
of the sky Segment I don't entirely understand yet. I'll return some other time with hopefully better understanding. For now, "their axles / through the ground" makes me see actual axles running piercing mother earth (oohlala), and "swerve over us" feels like an aborted image (oh my dearest). When you look at a cut flower, the flower is a wheel and the stem is the axle.
But this one is maybe too cute as it's a bit of a pun:
Cars have "wheels" and "axles" and they "swerve" when they go around a "curve".
God will punish me for this.
(10-23-2015, 11:08 PM)RiverNotch Wrote:
the waste basket
holds
these yellow flowers Back to the flowers, now duly described. Here, we get to the height of the last two segments: now, the stars, the flowers, and the lovers are one. But now, it is past afternoon, and there shall be no nights in white satin for these sweets (haha!) -- it passed not to joy, but to sadness, to sorrow, to stains on the sheets and bits on the bedpan, to sleep....
(10-23-2015, 11:08 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: The repetition of styles here from the fifth part's first strophe feels funky, though, in a bad way. "Holds" could be a fuller word, and it could perhaps be expanded into its neighbors; and does it have to be waste basket? That image feels somewhat too strong for the rest of it, especially with the very explicit next stanza. I changed "waste basket" to "dustbin" just for you.
(10-23-2015, 11:08 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: Second run: question more for editorial purposes, really. What in Glob's name is the difference between a stanza and strophe, exactly? A "stanza" is a physical unit which is usually a unit of meaning as well. It consists of the lines grouped
between the blank lines of a poem. (Though some use it as a unit of meaning without spatial bounds.)
People want to use "strophe" for the blank-lined divisions of free-verse poems and save "stanza" for
strictly ordered poems like this one. I use "stanza" for both and leave "strophe" to the Greeks.
(People also use "strophe" as a unit of meaning without spatial bounds. But these tend to be those awful
prose and script-writers and what do they know?)
(10-23-2015, 11:08 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: tears
you're not sure
who they're for See? This is the most, well, obvious, direct bit of the whole piece, and this is very good in hammering the last nail upon, but "the waste basket" sort of waters down the salt. As much as soft movements are nice, at least in this case, the sudden surprise just feels more natural, or at least more poetical.
the roundness Here's where I would expect a break in format: now leaning into that other poet I've read a lot of (though not yet nearly as much as he has released), I think this stanza would be better fused with the earlier one. The numerical break feels too far a distance, and the earlier part too ungraceful alone. But I got to keep my lines all pretty. So I guess it's a bit of form over function for this one.
(10-23-2015, 11:08 PM)RiverNotch Wrote: [ after the steady
flowing
of years Ah. Nice one.
Second run: I will always love the word "steady", especially at the end of a line.
the grace
of our hands
turns to flowers "turns to" could just as well be "becomes", but of course "becomes" has fewer meanings than "turns to". Now here, I'm not sure what on that point you're exactly stating, so a bit of enlightenment's welcome. The multiple meanings of "turns to" (as you stated) are necessary to support the multiple metaphors.
But the meaning is kinda more simple than you imagine. (And it's more puns again.)
Grace is elegance - flowers are elegant
Dancers are elegant - "turn" is something they do, we do, flowers do (following the sun, life).
At death our hands reTURN to the earth and the flowers that grow from the earth exhibit their grace
-- in both a mystical and physical sense.
Grace is God loving you, is being free of sin, is salvation, is transcendence...
People commonly "turn to" God.
And there's this Shaker dance song:
"Simple Gifts" by Elder Joseph
'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free
'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed,
To turn, turn will be our delight,
Till by turning, turning we come 'round right.
a brightly colored fungus that grows in bark inclusions
(10-23-2015, 08:22 PM)rayheinrich Wrote: (These are NOT intended as haiku, they're just poems with 2 stanzas of 3 lines.)
< 8 flower tales >
1 -
all winter
the spring
grew inside us
now
our mouths open
and flowers tumble out
2 -
the rush of sprouting
of the shoots
that push aside old leaves
of stems ascending
as the buds
inflate to airy flowers
3 -
the bees warn us
as the mouths of flowers
open wide to swallow us
but since it's spring
we jump
right in
4 -
wheels
their axles
through the ground
swerve over us
with the curve
of the sky
5 -
as the afternoon
advances
the petals add
determining
if you are loved
or not
6 -
the dustbin
holds
these yellow flowers
tears
you're not sure
who they're for
7 -
the roundness
of a face
above us
the pleasant sense
of color
that continues
8 -
after the steady
flowing
of years
the grace
of our hands
turns to flowers
- - -
>  < I especially like the one about the dustbin that holds the flowers. It makes me think of unrequited Love.
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