Nike and Boredom

[lewis taylor]

Nike and Boredom

The state of things
And how one tries
To frame the vexing image
(While it ever tears itself apart
And stitches dominate the grain)

Calls for swiftly
Shifting glass, for
Every sun's a virgin sight
And we, as fruits of all its labours
Merely inherit the fleeting day.

It seems no cinch
To keep one's feet
Or, let alone one's cloudy eyes;
The nature of our motion synthesizes with Earth's turn
Though the way of stable insight is the aftermath of change.

Yet there are those
Who time again
Attempt to render vision sharp,
And so they gamble with perception
In hopes - though maybe vain - of sense.

Every present
Carries colours
Not yet shaded fine by time,
But of today I mark it strange:
Both golfers rich and skid row’s junkies
Drape themselves in Nike.

And ever more
Condensed rain hangs
In form of dark commercials blaring.
Truly, to capitulate
Ought not be how we drift.

Though drift we must!
Until the hands
Of time tick t'wards their final bow.
We've all the world outside our doors
And all else at our fingers’ tips.

Immerse yourself
In pure time
And this young cent'ry we'll define,
But keep real sharp for if we don't,
Chances are we'll just get bored.

[rowens]

I think there's a lot of tension here between a stiff, old way of writing and talking, and a kind-of-the-way of writing and talking-now-in-the-subject.

What that means is, the lines are very stressful, and that adds to the message. Stressful, like laborious, but not necessarily in a bad way.

It works well in a way. But I don't know how well.

[tectak]

Nike and Boredom

The state of things
And how one tries
To frame the vexing image
(While it ever tears itself apart
And stitches dominate the grain)

Calls for swiftly
Shifting glass, for
Every sun's a virgin sight
And we, as fruits of all its labours
Merely inherit the fleeting day.

It seems no cinch
To keep one's feet
Or, let alone one's cloudy eyes;
The nature of our motion synthesizes with Earth's turn
Though the way of stable insight is the aftermath of change.

Yet there are those
Who time again
Attempt to render vision sharp,
And so they gamble with perception
In hopes - though maybe vain - of sense.

Every present
Carries colours
Not yet shaded fine by time,
But of today I mark it strange:
Both golfers rich and skid row’s junkies
Drape themselves in Nike.

And ever more
Condensed rain hangs
In form of dark commercials blaring.
Truly, to capitulate
Ought not be how we drift.

Though drift we must!
Until the hands
Of time tick t'wards their final bow.
We've all the world outside our doors
And all else at our fingers’ tips.

Immerse yourself
In pure time
And this young cent'ry we'll define,
But keep real sharp for if we don't,
Chances are we'll just get bored.

Hi Lewis,
In a rush so will come back to this but I just know I will like it more than not.
Best,
tectak

---

Hi lewis. OK. As I said, first read was encouraging so if I do a line by line what I don't mention is good!
Nike and Boredom

The state of thingsThis opening line is one of those unfortunate cliches which is spontaneous...it is just bound to happen....and it has. Severally. Check yourself. Still...
And how one tries
To frame the vexing image
(While it ever tears itself apart
And stitches dominate the grain)The line start does not need, or benefit from, the retro habit of capitalising. It is just confusing. It is made MUCH worse by your conjunctionitis. "And", strangely, takes away from a piece. Two "ands" in one stanza is too much. Though I cannot get the whole meaning out of this stanza I feel it is my fault. You may disagree.

Calls for swiftly
Shifting glass, for
Every sun's a virgin sightTry semicolon here and omit the bloody "and"on the next line. This works, I think
And we, as fruits of all its laboursCliche
Merely inherit the fleeting day.Cliche

It seems no cinchCute word use...maybe not mainstream but apposite
To keep one's feet
Or, let alone one's cloudy eyes;I find I like this line but wince a bit at "cloudy eyes".
The nature of our motion synthesizes with Earth's turnAh. Now we have a problem. Do you mean synthesizes? It is the wrong word. Do you mean "synchronizes"? If you MEANT the former it is nonsense masquerading as profound.
Though the way of stable insight is the aftermath of change.Bugger. I like this,to0, but find myself completely unable to say why. I think it is purely the sonics. It reads aloud beautifully. (I once got breakfast everyday in a University Buffet, which I was not entitled to, by shrugging and saying "Mais je suis Paul Smythe de la confiture" to the serving ladies. No one knew what it meant but I got the breakfast. I could have said "Ah, but the way of stable insight is the aftermath of change...with beans, please".) Sorry. Flippant....so what does it mean ?

Yet there are those
Who time again
Attempt to render vision sharp,
And so they gamble with perception
In hopes - though maybe vain - of sense.Quite

Every present
Carries colours
Not yet shaded fine by time,
But of today I mark it strange:
Both golfers rich and skid row’s junkies
Drape themselves in Nike.Love this whole stanza in COMPLETE ISOLATION. I would ditch the rest. This is good.

And ever more
Condensed rain hangs
In form of dark commercials blaring.
Truly, to capitulate
Ought not be how we drift.

Though drift we must!
Until the hands cliche coming
Of time tick t'wards their final bow.cliche ends with a fourish of mixed metaphor. Bowing hands? What point to "t'wards". None
We've all the world outside our doors
And all else at our fingers’ tips.

Immerse yourself
In pure time
And this young cent'ry we'll define,A glaring affectation, this "centr'y" thing. Why have you started d'ing it? Don't.
But keep real sharp for if we don't,
Chances are we'll just get bored.

You have a style. I hope I don't make light of it. There is a novelty in the way your write which I find pleasing. Just a few niggles like potty line breaks and clott'd-cream ellisions which make you read like a Cornish yokel. You aren't a Cornish Yokel are you. Apologies if so. Carry on. Oh, and one last thing, try to clarify, not obfuscate. It is easy to be obscure...believe me. I knew I would like it.
Best,
tectak

[lewis taylor]

Thanks a lot for the criticism. This was one of those poems that's sparked by what you think is a great idea, and in time turns out to be a lot harder to write (properly) than you'd thought. Anyway, I've taken what you've said on board and done a little edit, I agree that it was all a little vague and your notations of irritating word use and cliches are pretty justified. Here's the next drought...

Boredom and Nike

How vexing it
must be to frame
the picture of today
(while it ever tears itself apart
and only stitches form the grain).

Surely you’d want
shifting lenses!
Every sun's a virgin sight,
lending light to all those who
are sweeping through the fleeting day.

It seems no cinch
to keep one's feet,
or let alone one's tired eyes;
the nature of our motion synchronizes with Earth's turn,
though the way of stable insight is the aftermath of change.

Yet there are those
who time again
attempt to render vision sharp,
and so they gamble with perception
in hopes - though maybe vain - of sense.

Every present
carries colours
not yet shaded fine by time,
but of today I mark it strange:
both golfers rich and skid row’s junkies
drape themselves in Nike.

Why, ever more
condensed rain hangs
in form of dark commercials blaring.
Truly, to capitulate
ought not be how we drift.

Though drift we must!
For apathy
in time becomes regret.
We've all the world outside our doors
and all else at our fingers’ tips.

Immerse yourself
in pure time
and this young century we'll define.
But keep real sharp for if we don't,
chances are we'll just get bored.

[tectak]

Thanks a lot for the criticism. This was one of those poems that's sparked by what you think is a great idea, and in time turns out to be a lot harder to write (properly) than you'd thought. Anyway, I've taken what you've said on board and done a little edit, I agree that it was all a little vague and your notations of irritating word use and cliches are pretty justified. Here's the next drought... Here, have a Coke

Boredom and Nike

How vexing it
must be to frame
the picture of today
(while it ever tears itself apart
and only stitches form the grain).

Could I suggest, as you are still breaking lines and stanzas haphazardly, that you begin a process of grouping. See below:

How vexing it must be to frame
the picture of today;
while it tears itself apart
and only stitches make the grain.
Surely you would want a shifting lens?


Every sun's a virgin sight,
to all those who in borrowed light
are sweeping through the fleeting day.

It seems no cinch to keep one's feet,
or let alone one's tired eyes;
each turn of Earth by nature, our motions synchronize,
though the way of stable insight
is the aftermath of change.

Yet there are those who time again
attempt to render vision sharp,
so they gamble with perception
in vain hope of making sense.

Every present carries colours
not yet shaded fine by time,
but of today I mark it strange;
both golfers rich and skid row’s junkies
drape themselves in Nike.

For ever more condensed rain hangs
in form of dark commercial's blare.
Truly, to capitulate ought not be how we drift.
Though drift we must for apathy, in time, becomes regret.
We've all the world outside our doors
and all else at our fingers’ tips.

Immerse yourself in distilled time
and this young century we'll define.
But keep real sharp for if we don't,
the chances are we'll just get bored.

This is only my cursory take. It only took a couple of minutes. A lot more can be done, especially if you want consistency in your stanzas. Enjoy the process but please ignore my suggestions if you so wish. It is your poem. I changed "form" to "make" in S1 to avoid the repeat.
Best,
tectak