(02-13-2023, 01:13 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: Brotherly Love
You’re like an old dog
wagging its tail at my door,
begging to come in,
but drunken feet struggle
in the too early morning,
so I shuffle back undercover.
I thought I could hear you
playing guitar, sliding in
under my mind-
my ears become dumb bells,
the weight of you doubled
inside my head.
Your shadow leans in too close
to my pillow, catching my breath,
asking if you can borrow it.
I can almost feel the strong grip
of your hand; the stinging
whip of your tongue.
Watching your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling,
it’s hard to picture you gone.
p.s.- With a nod to a poet named mandolyn.
Hi Mark,
Multiple readings brought forth these comments:
The title: "brother" seems an essential word for the title, but "brotherly love", usually meant in the wider sense of love for all fellow humans, doesn't seem right. I don't have any alternatives to suggest. I struggle with titles for poems.
The poem seems to begin with a memory, then slide into a present day dream. I guess I'm just wondering if that's how you meant it to be?
"my ears become dumbells": the more I read that line, the more cartoonish (and out of step) it seems. Again, I don't have alternatives to suggest, just noting my reaction to it.
Other than those few comments, the poem seems like a finished piece to me.
(02-13-2023, 10:49 PM)TranquillityBase Wrote: Hi Mark,
Multiple readings brought forth these comments:
The title: "brother" seems an essential word for the title, but "brotherly love", usually meant in the wider sense of love for all fellow humans, doesn't seem right. I don't have any alternatives to suggest. I struggle with titles for poems.
The poem seems to begin with a memory, then slide into a present day dream. I guess I'm just wondering if that's how you meant it to be?
"my ears become dumbells": the more I read that line, the more cartoonish (and out of step) it seems. Again, I don't have alternatives to suggest, just noting my reaction to it.
Other than those few comments, the poem seems like a finished piece to me.
Tim
Thanks Tim-
you confirm the two things that I'm least happy about.
Mark
(02-13-2023, 01:13 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: A Brother's Grip
You’re like an old dog
wagging its tail at my door,
begging to come in,
but my drunken feet struggle
in the too early morning,
so I shuffle back ....I didn't quite catch this one. I assume it's extending the old dog metaphor and getting up to opening the door for it, but the movie unspooling on the ceiling in the end confuses me as to where the metaphor ends.
undercover- nearly hear
your bottleneck slide in
a solo, under my pillow- ... I had to google this one. A guitar solo, if I got it right. The first thee strophes are a bit disjointed. Maybe I'm missing the point.
still feel the familiar grip
of your hand; the stinging whip ... 'familiar grip of your hand' doesn't quite cut it for me. It's borderline cliche. And 'stinging whip' sounds superfluous
of your tongue.
Watching your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling, ...a great couple of lines - this is the whole poem for me.
it’s hard to picture you gone. .... ending falls a bit flat
Brotherly Love
You’re like an old dog
wagging its tail at my door,
begging to come in,
but drunken feet struggle
in the too early morning,
so I shuffle back undercover.
I thought I could hear you
playing guitar, sliding in
under my mind-
my ears become dumb bells,
the weight of you doubled
inside my head.
Your shadow leans in too close
to my pillow, catching my breath,
asking if you can borrow it.
I can almost feel the strong grip
of your hand; the stinging
whip of your tongue.
Watching your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling,
it’s hard to picture you gone.
p.s.- With a nod to a poet named mandolyn.
Hi Mark - a fine piece. The revised version you posted reads a lot better, tighter than the original
But I can see why you chose to workshop it. There's a lot that you're trying to say, but the word choices could be improved.
Good luck on the journey.
.
Hi Mark,
the opening makes it sound like an old blues number (or else that's just my imagination) but, even in the revision, it rather loses its way in the middle.
You’re back like an old dog
wagging at my door, begging to come in, .................... wagging gives tail, and begging can be inferred.
but my drunken feet struggle
in the too early morning, so I shuffle back ......................... can't see what line three is doing (why would N get up?)
but my feet are still drunk/ hungover in this too early morning/and it's far too early
let me lie, like the dead I'm watching your movie
unspool on the ceiling, trying to picture you gone.
(02-13-2023, 01:13 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: A Brother’s Grip
Your damned old songs
still haunt me hard.
Night after night I appreciate that this first stanza is direct, and you now have less metaphors(well similie/metaphor) than the previous versions which had the dog simile. I think its not exactly interesting though... and I wonder if you can cut this stanza entirely and start with the next one.
I almost see youra shadow small suggestion mostly because I didn't think "your" repeated sounded nice... "a" is just a little more ambiguous.
hovering over your guitar
in the corner of my room;
I very nearly hear
your bottleneck slide
under my pillow.
Still hours before morning-
a soundtrack of rain
keeping the beat
as I lie awake watching
your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling. I think it was a good move removing it’s hard to picture you gone. as its written all over the poem!
A Brother's Grip
You’re like an old dog
wagging its tail at my door,
begging to come in,
but my drunken feet struggle
in the too early morning,
so I shuffle back
undercover- nearly hear
your bottleneck slide in
a solo, under my pillow-
still feel the familiar grip
of your hand; the stinging whip
of your tongue.
Watching your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling,
it’s hard to picture you gone.
Brotherly Love
You’re like an old dog
wagging its tail at my door,
begging to come in,
but drunken feet struggle
in the too early morning,
so I shuffle back undercover.
I thought I could hear you
playing guitar, sliding in
under my mind-
my ears become dumb bells,
the weight of you doubled
inside my head.
Your shadow leans in too close
to my pillow, catching my breath,
asking if you can borrow it.
I can almost feel the strong grip
of your hand; the stinging
whip of your tongue.
Watching your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling,
it’s hard to picture you gone.
The content of this one seems very clear to me... the brother is gone, either passed away or left but the narrator is still thinking about their brother, at night. Grip has a negative connotation like power, overpowering, its unclear to me what the brothers relationship was in life ( im assuming the brother passsed away) , but it seems complicated and not that the narrator is just missing their brother, but that they are haunted by the absence of this brother, which is different than missing. Grip also has a double meaning with the guitar? I see how through the edits the poem got cleaner/more direct i still kinda switches back n forth between the visual and auditory.. the soundtrack to a movie vs the visuals of the movie or something. I did like some of your earlier lines, and while I see why they were cut.. i also just thought they were well written, so I made my own v and put them back in, and made some minor chages aswell.. Just my 2 cents though. thank you.
I almost see a shadow hovering over your guitar in the corner of my room;
my ears become dumb bells, the weight of you doubled inside my head. your bottleneck slide
beneath my pillow.
Your shadow leans in too close, catching my breath, taking what you can borrow.
hours before morning- a soundtrack of rain keeps beat
I lie awake watching your silent film unspooling on the ceiling.
(02-13-2023, 01:13 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: A Brother’s Grip
Some nights I see a shadow
play on your guitar
in the corner of my room,
and I can almost hear
your bottleneck slide
gliding under my pillow.
Still hours until daybreak…
a soundtrack of rain
keeping the beat
as I lie half awake
watching your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling.
A Brother’s Grip
Your damned old songs
still haunt me hard.
Night after night
I almost see your shadow
hovering over your guitar
in the corner of my room;
I very nearly hear
your bottleneck slide
under my pillow.
Still hours before morning-
a soundtrack of rain
keeping the beat
as I lie awake watching
your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling.
A Brother's Grip
You’re like an old dog
wagging its tail at my door,
begging to come in,
but my drunken feet struggle
in the too early morning,
so I shuffle back
undercover- nearly hear
your bottleneck slide in
a solo, under my pillow-
still feel the familiar grip
of your hand; the stinging whip
of your tongue.
Watching your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling,
it’s hard to picture you gone.
Brotherly Love
You’re like an old dog
wagging its tail at my door,
begging to come in,
but drunken feet struggle
in the too early morning,
so I shuffle back undercover.
I thought I could hear you
playing guitar, sliding in
under my mind-
my ears become dumb bells,
the weight of you doubled
inside my head.
Your shadow leans in too close
to my pillow, catching my breath,
asking if you can borrow it.
I can almost feel the strong grip
of your hand; the stinging
whip of your tongue.
Watching your silent movie
unspooling on the ceiling,
it’s hard to picture you gone.
Hey Mark,
Welcome back. This one has gotten a lot of attention even in your absence. I like your final version. Nicely distilled. I personally don't have much to suggest. I go back and forth on the 'and' and 'as' in each stanza but just a style thing I think.
steve
(02-13-2023, 01:13 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: A Brother’s Grip
Some nights I see a shadow
play on your guitar
in the corner of my room, andIcan almost hear your bottleneck slide gliding under my pillow. this is really fine
Still hours until daybreak…. this line made me pause because "still" has two meanings and I'm not sure which to read into the line a soundtrack of rain keeping the beat as I lie half awake watching your silent movie unspooling on the ceiling. great stuff here
I looked at this with virgin eyes so I can't speak about lines I might have liked in previous versions that have dropped out (I just know it's shorter). Anyway, like this very much, other than my confusion about "still hours".
.
Hi Mark
(congratulations on the competition result)
I think the revision suffers from the loss of 'hard to picture you gone' (or similar) and I do miss the 'drunken feet' (though maybe they'll reappear in another poem?)
Have you considered switching the verses?
A soundtrack of rain
keeps the beat
as half awake I watch
your silent movie
unspool on the ceiling.
I swear sometimes I can hear
your bottleneck slide
gliding under my pillow. The ghost of a song
it’s hard to picture you gone.
(02-13-2023, 01:13 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: A Brother’s Grip
Some nights I see a shadow
play on your guitar
in the corner of my room, andIcan almost hear your bottleneck slide gliding under my pillow. this is really fine
Still hours until daybreak…. this line made me pause because "still" has two meanings and I'm not sure which to read into the line a soundtrack of rain keeping the beat as I lie half awake watching your silent movie unspooling on the ceiling. great stuff here
I looked at this with virgin eyes so I can't speak about lines I might have liked in previous versions that have dropped out (I just know it's shorter). Anyway, like this very much, other than my confusion about "still hours".
Tim
Thanks for the comments Tim-
I agree with deleting 'I' in L.4. 'Still hours' is intentionally ambiguous, allowing the reader either, or both meanings. I must credit Miley with steering me toward a more concise, final version.
- Mark
(07-15-2023, 08:27 PM)Knot Wrote: .
Have you considered switching the verses?
Best, Knot .
Hi Knot-
I think I've arrived at the final version with this one, since starting on it many months ago.
Thanks for the comments, though,
Mark
