07-22-2023, 06:44 AM (This post was last modified: 07-27-2023, 09:33 PM by TranquillityBase.)
Hands
I.
Mechanical marvels stiff tentacles full of touch holding nothing but the future.
II.
The tips of three fingers are amputated. I can press them against solid matter especially other flesh feel them plunge inside, absent fingertips defining another world.
III.
For months in idle moments I’ve studied them, reading the creases on empty palms the scars on the backs of knuckles asking, “What now?”
IV.
The rest of me depends on these blind explorers to set me free of what I can see catching or releasing the transient comedies of earth’s persistent gravity. Spirit evades them they are never disappointed. They revel in difference reeling in the in-between of surprise and expectation.
I study my hands mechanical marvels stiff tentacles full of touch palms with nothing in them but the future. This might be too on the nose. Sounds like something I might write! not sure it's needed.
I’m asking them something, maybe....'I'm asking something of them' just what I don’t know.
I’m only sure they are mine. really like the last line but could be more strongly worded
TqB,
I like the simplicity but still poignant. I liked the last line of S1 on the first few reads but then it seemed out of place somehow.
Enjoyed the read.
Bryn
I study my hands mechanical marvels stiff tentacles full of touch … ‘stiff tentacles’ is nicely sensorial. The ‘touch’ goes nicely. A splendid line palms with nothing in them but the future. ….these two lines suddenly move from the sensorial banality of hands as hands to palms and palm reading and knowledge of the future. It is beautifully done and for me the highlight of the poem
I’m asking them something, … this one follows logically from the reading of palms.. just what I don’t know. … but this is a weak line.
I’m only sure they are mine. … this and the previous line make for a weak ending. The rest of the poem I wouldn’t touch - it’s perfect
I study my hands mechanical marvels stiff tentacles full of touch hands are full of touch but palms have nothing in them but the future? The metaphor reads with a contradiction that I think can be easily resolved palms with nothing in them but the future.
I’m asking them something, just what I don’t know. if you want to keep the sentiment of this stanza, maybe you could add a modifier to "tomorrow" that captures this sentiment. Otherwise, these last 2 stanzas feel like they could be scrapped
I’m only sure they are mine. I like the stripped-down versions being suggested, especially Knot's. The ending feels stronger
Thanks to all of you. I have edited along the lines of what Knot suggested, and most seemed to agree, was the heart (and body) of the poem.
Just for grins, I added a spoiler, a completely different poem, but it is the subject I originally intended to write about. No critique needed, I just wanted to get it out of my system.
Honestly Tim-
This really seems like a place-holder poem to me- dashed off to keep the juices flowing. I only say that because I recognize the same tendancy in myself.
Hands
Mechanical marvels mechanical is accurate, but is it the right word? stiff tentacleslikewise with stiff and tentacles
full of touch
with nothing in them
but the future. the last two lines have value, but the preceding lines need to be rethunk, I think
What this poem says to me:
I'm looking at my hands looking for some kind of answer, and my empty hands may just represent an empty future. Looking at one's hands can also be a type of praying/meditating, and I think you could work that angle into this poem.
In a short one like this every word counts, and they each must carry their weight. For me, words like 'mechanical' and 'tentacle' need to be replaced with human qualities, because it's hard for me to empathize with those words.
Are your hands cupped, so you're looking at open palms? Not to be too picky, but hands aren't what really do the touching, fingers do. But there's nothing about flesh and blood fingers, only 'stiff tentacles'.
I would like to appreciate this poem more, but ya gotta give something to empathize with. Or not.
(07-23-2023, 09:00 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: Honestly Tim-
This really seems like a place-holder poem to me- dashed off to keep the juices flowing. I only say that because I recognize the same tendancy in myself.
Hands
Mechanical marvels mechanical is accurate, but is it the right word? stiff tentacleslikewise with stiff and tentacles
full of touch
with nothing in them
but the future. the last two lines have value, but the preceding lines need to be rethunk, I think
What this poem says to me:
I'm looking at my hands looking for some kind of answer, and my empty hands may just represent an empty future. Looking at one's hands can also be a type of praying/meditating, and I think you could work that angle into this poem.
In a short one like this every word counts, and they each must carry their weight. For me, words like 'mechanical' and 'tentacle' need to be replaced with human qualities, because it's hard for me to empathize with those words.
Are your hands cupped, so you're looking at open palms? Not to be too picky, but hands aren't what really do the touching, fingers do. But there's nothing about flesh and blood fingers, only 'stiff tentacles'.
I would like to appreciate this poem more, but ya gotta give something to empathize with. Or not.
Just my two cents,
Mark
ps Ya know I love ya, right?
Mark,
Thanks for the detailed critique. I'll only say that it wasn't dashed off. I worked on it for more than a week, every day. It was much longer, and did have a lot more "flesh and blood" in the early stages. I'll see if I can reconstruct it. Bad thing about writing on a computer; you lose your previous versions unless you make the extra effort to save each one, which I haven't so far had the patience to do. But I think from now on I will.
I don't know if you saw the Spoiler version, but that is more what I wanted to write about when I began it.
(07-23-2023, 08:34 PM)TranquillityBase Wrote: I don't know if you saw the Spoiler version, but that is more what I wanted to write about when I began it.
No Tim- I had not read the spoiler, but now I have. That initial version is one that I immediately empathize with. It shows to go ya that sometimes the initial inspiration is worth sticking to, at least for this reader.
An observation: I have done the same thing- contemplated my hands, as if asking (almost prayer-like), "now what?" Our hands express so many of the ideas we have in our heads- from building things, to fixing things, to writing, etc. That last stanza in the spoiler version could address that, and with just a little bit of that 'Tim magic' it could make this poem really grab hold of the reader.
In my book, the spoiler version is the far superior version, because it makes this reader feel something. It resonates with me. The current version doesn't offer the handshake that the original does.
Glad I read that spoiler,
Mark
ps. The 'delete' key has now replaced all that crumpled paper. It's more eco-friendly. If I saved all the iterations of my poems I'd get totally confused, so sometimes I just save the very first version.
The expanded version puts more flesh on the bones.
Now just trim some of the fat, but beware the sharp things.
I’d consider ending II with a simple question, like “now what?” I know you have one.
III and IV need some attention, especially those last two lines.
(07-24-2023, 09:39 PM)Mark A Becker Wrote: Alrighty then, Tim-
The expanded version puts more flesh on the bones.
Now just trim some of the fat, but beware the sharp things.
I’d consider ending II with a simple question, like “now what?” I know you have one.
III and IV need some attention, especially those last two lines.
I do like this version more.
Mark
I really don't know what the question was, or why I was doing it. I recently stopped the habit of studying them, not because I felt like it was a habit or anything, I just didn't need to do it anymore.
Mechanical marvels stiff tentacles full of touch with nothing in them holding nothing but the future.
II.
For months now in idle moments I’ve studied them, reading the creases on empty palms and fingers, I think fingers needs its own modifier on a separate line or cut fingers part the scars on the backs of my knuckles looking for an answer. asking my questions
I don’t know what the question is.
III.
Three years ago working on a lawnmower The beginning of this stanza looses some of the power you've developed with a little too much catch up pause. I would get right to the loss. I amputated the tips of three fingers, middle, ring and little. I can press them against stone, wood, or flesh feel them plunge inside, but I think you don't 'feel' them. you see them and know they do but they don't really feel like yours phantom fingertips explaining their absence.
IV.
They are my mind’s actors, set loose upon realities I like the 'set loose' as in beyond your control, out side yourself they can hold back or set free.
Hands ver. 2
I.
Mechanical marvels
stiff tentacles
full of touch
with nothing in them
but the future.
II.
For months now
in idle moments
I’ve studied them,
reading the creases
on empty palms and fingers,
the scars on the backs
of my knuckles
looking for an answer.
I don’t know what
the question is.
III.
Three years ago
working on a lawnmower
I amputated the tips of three fingers,
middle, ring and little.
I can press them
against stone, wood, or flesh
feel them plunge inside,
phantom fingertips
explaining their absence.
IV.
They record my history
keep me still
and at the right moment
grasp the attendant joys
of books, tools, and lovers,
trained to trace
the murmur of reality.
Hands
I study my hands
mechanical marvels
stiff tentacles full of touch
palms with nothing in them
but the future.
I’m asking them something,
just what I don’t know.
I’m only sure they are mine.
Hey TqB,
I like the expanded version. I've been thinking of starting a separate thread related to whether it is always best to reduce a poem to its heart. But I digress. Hands are a powerful metaphor for our lives. There are stories from my life that are only written in the lines on my hands. But our hands are more than a record of the past but a means to a future. We don't ask them. We ask of them, to provide either answers or labor. I'm digressing again! Fourth stanza isn't working that well for me but I don't want to muddle around with your vision for the poem. Only my thoughts so take it or leave it as you prefer.
bryn
07-26-2023, 04:28 AM (This post was last modified: 07-26-2023, 05:38 AM by TranquillityBase.)
(07-25-2023, 10:33 AM)brynmawr1 Wrote: Hey TqB,
I like the expanded version. I've been thinking of starting a separate thread related to whether it is always best to reduce a poem to its heart. Thanks for the like. I hope you do start that thread.
But I digress. Hands are a powerful metaphor for our lives. There are stories from my life that are only written in the lines on my hands. But our hands are more than a record of the past but a means to a future. We don't ask them. We ask of them, to provide either answers or labor. I'm digressing again!
Fourth stanza isn't working that well for me but I don't want to muddle around with your vision for the poem. Yes, IV is the most recent and I've been trying different endings. I'm not especially happy with what is there now. After III it just feels like I need one more, some kind of summing up.
Only my thoughts so take it or leave it as you prefer.
bryn
Excellent critique, thank you. I only disagree with the one in III; it really does feel like the tips are still there, and able to penetrate matter.
Digress as much as you like; it's all interesting stuff.
TqB
___________________________________________
posted a new version, with a rewritten section IV. if your not sick of it, let me know what you think. better or worse?
Mechanical marvels stiff tentacles full of touch holding nothing but the future.
II.
For months in idle moments I’ve studied them, reading the creases on empty palms and restless fingers, the scars on the backs of knuckles asking, “What now?”
III.
The tips of three fingers are amputated, middle, ring and little. I can press them against stone, wood, or flesh feel them plunge inside, a stranger’s fingertips defining absence.
IV.
Hands are the sum of thresholds we’ve crossed prophecies we’ve denied, actors bound to an author who cannot free them from servitude, or absorb the multitude of their thoughts, children who never cease to be born.
[/pre verse]
Hi TqB,
Worse, I'm afraid. Though you have some nice turns of phrase. The theme of this poem, as I read it, is how hands can tell the story of one's life and whether the narrator can decipher and accept that story. In this regard, the first two stanzas flow nicely building on each other. That starts to go off a bit in the third mostly, as I see it, due to the emphasis of the stanza being more about sensation than loss though both are present. As far as IV, I like the first line but I might use 'ledger' rather than 'sum' as I see the hands as the page things are written on with the 'sum' being the conclusion. I'll give you a dollar if you can work 'abacus' into the last stanza!
Regarding the fingertip amputation, I completely misinterpreted what happened. For some reason I pictured that the fingertips had been reattached but were numb rather than just gone. Ouch!
Take care,
Bryn
I'm with Bryn regarding IV - and I don't think a 'summing up' is the answer. Leave that to the reader, let them draw their own conclusions. Perhaps a brief meditation on he hand's those hands have held?
Couple of suggested tweaks ...
II.
I’ve studied them,
in idle moments
read the creases
of empty palms
and restless fingers, ...... do you need this line III is all fingers after all.
the braille on the backs
of knuckles
asking, “What now?” ...... I think you need something more sensory that this (not very interesting) question.
III.
The tips of three fingers
are amputated,
middle, ring and little.
I can press them
against stone, wood, or flesh ........... do you need this (rather limited) list? ( I can press them / against the world )
. Hi Tim, nope, still not there. I wonder if part of the problem is that IV (or elements of it) are simply in the wrong place. They answer the question of why you would be asking your hands 'what now' - so perhaps some of this should be a new II?
I.
Mechanical marvels stiff tentacles full of touch holding nothing but the future.
II.
blind explorers to set me free of what I can see ........ I don't think the switch from 'explorers' to 'set me free' works (how are they connected?) but 'blind explorers' is promising.
III.
catching or releasing transient comedies ......... not sure what this means, but I like it - maybe it's just a couplet on its own?
they are never disappointed. ..... surely sometimes they grasp the wrong end of the stick or have to 'unblock' something? Sounds disappointing to me They revel in difference reeling in the in-between of surprise and expectation. ........ think you got sucked into the word-play, this doesn't really hold up, for me.
IV.
The tips of three fingers are amputated. I can press them against solid matter especially other flesh feel them plunge inside, absent fingertips defining another world.
V.
For months .................. you don't need this (the time-frame doesn't matter as it's never developed beyond this mention.)
(07-29-2023, 02:14 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: Well Tim- I can only suggest that you let this one sit awhile, because I think the edits are gettin outta hand.
Mark,
Zat iz dee plan. Und now I vill lissen 2 sum jazz.
