When Pyrocumulus Last In the Western Lands Bloomed

[Owlster Bierce]

This late summer evening
as I listen to the cricket's

"cree cree
cree cree
cree cree"

I imagine myself with cricket legs
and what a glorious noise
I could make if I rubbed them together
as I lie on my back in farmhouse shadows.

Maybe after a while
a beautiful woman
who also had
cricket legs
would be attracted
and join me on the lawn.

Together,
the volume of the
glorious noise
would double,
and we would be happy
and she would
smile easily.

Our racket might very well disturb
the people for several acres around,
and cause them
to gather up guns
and dogs to hunt us down
in order to silence us, but as they neared
we would SPRING INTO ACTION!

get up on our cricket legs,
and bound away into perhaps
a large field of tall, green, corn
where we would lie, keeping
our legs spread apart
for the sake of silence,

and, while prone that way,
we would quietly giggle
as I climbed on top of her
and we proceeded
to have sex,

while the people
urged their dogs to sniff
us out, but the dogs
wouldn't really want to find us
because they'd consider us
too weird and creepy to behold, while

to the north
and south
of us, in these western lands,
pieces of the sun unwound
from the forests,
and pyrocumulus bloomed.

Draft 2:

~When Pyrocumulus Last In the Western Lands Bloomed~

This late summer evening
as I listen to the cricket's

"cree cree
cree cree
cree cree"

I imagine myself with cricket legs
and what a glorious noise
I could make if I rubbed them together
as I laid on my back in farmhouse shadows.

Maybe after a while
a beautiful woman
who also had
cricket legs
would be attracted
and join me on the lawn.

Together,
the volume of our
glorious noise
would double,
we would be happy,
and she would
smile easily.

Our racket might very well disturb
people for several acres around,
and cause them
to gather up guns
and dogs to hunt us down
in order to silence us, but as they neared
we would SPRING INTO ACTION!

get up on our cricket legs,
and bound away
into a large field of tall, green, corn
where we would lie, keeping
our legs spread apart
for the sake of silence,

and, while prone that way,
we would quietly giggle
as I climbed on top of her
and we proceeded
to have sex,

as the people
urged their dogs to sniff
us out; dogs who
wouldn't really want to find us
because they'd consider us
too weird and creepy to behold, while

to the north
and south
of us, in these western lands,
pieces of the sun unwind
from the forests,
and pyrocumulus bloom.

[Erthona]

An interesting and fun little idyll. The tense changes make this piece problematic at the moment (see below). Correcting those would bring the readability up to an adequate level.

On the content side, I found your use of " pyrocumulus blooms" confusing in that I was unsure of your intent. Did you mean to imply volcanic activity or nuclear destruction, as mushroom clouds are said to bloom? It's a nice image, but maybe some supporting description would be beneficial.

All in all a very original poem, but at the moment obfuscated by the grammar problems.

Dale
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

This late summer evening
as I listen to the cricket's

"cree cree
cree cree
cree cree"

I imagine myself with cricket legs
and what a glorious noise
I could make if I rubbed them together
as I lie on my back in farmhouse shadows. (tense change)

Maybe after a while
a beautiful woman
who also had (tense)
cricket legs
would be attracted
and join me on the lawn.

Together,
the volume of the ("the" needs dropping)
glorious noise
would double,
and we would be happy (drop the first "and")
and she would
smile easily.

Our racket might very well disturb
the people for several acres around, (drop "the")
and cause them
to gather up guns
and dogs to hunt us down
in order to silence us, but as they neared
we would SPRING INTO ACTION!

get up on our cricket legs,
and bound away into perhaps (Stylistic, I think I would drop the "perhaps")
a large field of tall, green, corn
where we would lie, keeping
our legs spread apart
for the sake of silence,

and, while prone that way, ("that way" is probably not needed)
we would quietly giggle
as I climbed on top of her
and we proceeded
to have sex,

while the people
urged their dogs to sniff
us out, but the dogs (awkward phrasing, "while..."but")
wouldn't really want to find us
because they'd consider us
too wierd and creepy to behold, while ("weird" misspelled)

to the north
and south
of us, in these western lands,
pieces of the sun unwound (tense-unwind)
from the forests,
and pyrocumulus bloomed. (tense-bloom)

[Owlster Bierce]

Thanks for the read and great input, Dale. I'll use many, if not all of your suggestions.

As to "pyrocumulus": You may have seen/heard in the news that there are several large forest fires out west, here. (I'm in Idaho). Pyrocumulus clouds are sometimes formed by large, hot, forest fires.

[Erthona]

That's right. I knew that but forgot that forest fires could also be a source, I guess I was focused in on the mushroom cloud being like a flower. Actually, no, I had not heard that there are large forest fires currently, but that makes sense.

Dale

[Owlster Bierce]

I didn't know until a week or so ago forest fires could create pyrocumulus clouds. I saw a big, white, puffy cloud in the area of a large forest fire north of where I was, one day, and wondered about it. I think it was later that same day I saw mention of the pyrocumulus in a local newspaper.

You might have noticed I left "that way" at the end of the line. I'm still on-the-fence about it. I like the way William Carlos Williams has it in a line of one of his poems, (Portrait of a Lady) so thought I would mimic it. Here it is in context:

"-- As if that answered
anything. -- Ah, yes. Below
the knees, since the tune
drops that way, it is
one of those white summer days,..."

I like to 'borrow' things from other writers, sometimes. Mainly for the purpose of humor. The title of this poem is a take on one by Walt Whitman: "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloomed."

[milo]

This late summer evening
as I listen to the cricket's

"cree cree
cree cree
cree cree"

I don't think quoting the crickets adds anything at all here. Also, you don't need either "This, or "as"

I imagine myself with cricket legs
and what a glorious noise
I could make if I rubbed them together
as I lie on my back in farmhouse shadows.

I see someone mentioned the tenses throughout the piece, so I am not going to mention them again, but I would like to say, I see this poem as stronger in the past tense. (Also, easier to resolve).

If no one has ever given you the advice to try to strip as many pronouns out of poetry as you can, I am going to give it to you now. If someone already did, you might consider the negative effect all the pronouns you have added has on the enjoyment of this poem.

I would consider switching to active voice "glorious noise I make when I rub . . ."

Maybe after a while
a beautiful woman
who also had
cricket legs
would be attracted
and join me on the lawn.

I see you are using a random number generator to help you with your line breaks so I will try not to mention them again. This section could be rewritten much stronger just by stripping the waffling and excess verbiage.

Together,
the volume of the
glorious noise
would double,
and we would be happy
and she would
smile easily.

This strophe could be eliminated with the pertinent points worked into the previous one (after you re-write that one to be more direct of course).

Our racket might very well disturb
the people for several acres around,
and cause them
to gather up guns
and dogs to hunt us down
in order to silence us, but as they neared
we would SPRING INTO ACTION!

I wasn't going to mention the line breaks again, but I am going back on my word. Also, all the waffling - why?

get up on our cricket legs,
and bound away into perhaps
a large field of tall, green, corn
where we would lie, keeping
our legs spread apart
for the sake of silence,

You sprung into action, you won't need to cumbersomely /get up/ now (eliminate that). Get rid of perhaps and large.

and, while prone that way,
we would quietly giggle
as I climbed on top of her
and we proceeded
to have sex,

what is the difference between proceeding to have sex and just having sex?

while the people
urged their dogs to sniff
us out, but the dogs
wouldn't really want to find us
because they'd consider us
too weird and creepy to behold, while

I would say you don't need "the" people, but reconsidering you most likely don't need half the words in this strophe. The truth is, I don't think this strophe adds anything at all.

to the north
and south
of us, in these western lands,
pieces of the sun unwound
from the forests,
and pyrocumulus bloomed.

overall, I like the story and you use a lot of strong images and narrative technique. It would be worth a read just for the fantastic statement "pyrocumulous bloomed" but it needs several serious, well thought out rewrites with attention to stripping superfluous wording, correcting the line breaks, and fixing the tenses.

Thanks for posting.

Good luck with it.

[tectak]

Hello owl,
This is a strange affair. Quite apart from the archaic language used in the title, which contains but a fleeting thought on what is to come, there are many areas where you must devote time to getting the grammar and structure up to scratch. I am tempted to suggest that you allow this one to be moved to miscellaneous, though that would take the fun out of it. You have, however, posted in Workshopping so I guess that you consider this piece written on palimpsest.
Most of the crit so far is kind. I will follow that lead.
An overview leads me to comment on inspiration. This piece, you say, was "inspired" by the sight of a "pyrocumulous bloom" caused by distant forest fires. You would be well advised to go with your inspiration. What we get here comes across as a weak piece of fun-filled flippery that only at the very last moment decides that the cloud in the distance is worth including. From that point on all that was, is lost. Only the last stanza is found. Too late.
Let us have a long-legged grass-hopper fantasy or a heavyweight piece on the wonderfully emotive (and relatively rare) smoke cloud.
Mixed together this is a sludgy emulsion....not a true mixture at all.
Nonetheless, I admire your guile
Best,
tectak

This late summer evening
as I listen to the cricket's

"cree cree
cree cree
cree cree"Idiosyncratic to the point of irritation. Adds nothing. Takes away a good deal

I imagine myself with cricket legs
and what a glorious noise
I could make if I rubbed them together
as I lie on my back in farmhouse shadows.Just stop and read this out loud. You are on a time machine. The tenses are everywhere and nowhere.

Maybe after a while
a beautiful woman
who also had or has, or will have
cricket legs
would be attracted
and join me on the lawn.Surreal and worryingly so. The "character" relating this tale is quite obviously under some external influence of the insecticidal variety. From this point on there can be no serious intent to be poetic IN ANY CONTROLLED SENSE

Together,
the volume of the
glorious noise
would double,
and we would be happy
and she would
smile easily....and your point is. 1+1=2....yep, OK, I get it.

Our racket might very well disturb
the people for several acres around,
and cause them
to gather up guns
and dogs to hunt us down
in order to silence us, but as they neared
we would SPRING INTO ACTION!See what I mean. Rednecks maybe, but hunting crickets with guns based upon cree cree cree, no matter how loud, is just too much nonsense too early in the piece.

get up on our cricket legs,
and bound away into perhaps
a large field of tall, green, corn
where we would lie, keeping
our legs spread apart
for the sake of silence,...as I said previously, the thought has transgressed the thinking. You (your character) is now in danger of unravelling, having nothing of a concrete thought in his grass-hopper obsessed, genitally pre-occupied head...I rather like that

and, while prone that way,
we would quietly giggle
as I climbed on top of her
and we proceeded
to have sex, Irritatingly post-pubescent though in keeping with the rest of the piece.... all that is about to change.

while the people
urged their dogs to sniff
us out, but the dogs
wouldn't really want to find us
because they'd consider us
too weird and creepy to behold, while while while while. This is poor stuff. "weird" and "creepy" add to the general feeling that we have a twelve year old still fantasising over biology lesson illustrations. Unless this is your intent, and who the hell knows....it could be...you should try to elevate this stanza into adulthood.

to the north
and south
of us, in these western lands,
pieces of the sun unwound
from the forests,
and pyrocumulus bloomed. Right. The poem STARTS with this stanza. Now write about the bloody pyrocumulous cloud before lenticular clouds catch you eye and steer you from your piece about the mating habits of land-crabs

Do not give up on this. Workshop the shit out of it until you are sick of it...but do it in you own time! then re-post
Best,
tectak

Draft 2:

~When Pyrocumulus Last In the Western Lands Bloomed~

This late summer evening
as I listen to the cricket's

"cree cree
cree cree
cree cree"

I imagine myself with cricket legs
and what a glorious noise
I could make if I rubbed them together
as I laid on my back in farmhouse shadows.

Maybe after a while
a beautiful woman
who also had
cricket legs
would be attracted
and join me on the lawn.

Together,
the volume of our
glorious noise
would double,
we would be happy,
and she would
smile easily.

Our racket might very well disturb
people for several acres around,
and cause them
to gather up guns
and dogs to hunt us down
in order to silence us, but as they neared
we would SPRING INTO ACTION!

get up on our cricket legs,
and bound away
into a large field of tall, green, corn
where we would lie, keeping
our legs spread apart
for the sake of silence,

and, while prone that way,
we would quietly giggle
as I climbed on top of her
and we proceeded
to have sex,

as the people
urged their dogs to sniff
us out; dogs who
wouldn't really want to find us
because they'd consider us
too weird and creepy to behold, while

to the north
and south
of us, in these western lands,
pieces of the sun unwind
from the forests,
and pyrocumulus bloom.

[Owlster Bierce]

To Milo and Tectak:Thanks a lot for all the fantastic ideas, pointers, and input in general. Lots of stuff to consider and study. I'll probably let this experiment of a poem rest awhile, then come back to it here in this forum in a month or so before doing more seriously needed revisions. I'm glad I found this forum. Got lucky via google.

[Heartafire]

Hi Owlster, there is little to add that hasn't been pointed out. Initially I felt this should be in the fun board, cause it is fun. I agree the
"cree,cree,cree" is not so good to the point of being annoying. The very volume of this put me off as I have the attention span of a gnat these days, but I stayed with it and found it to be quite entertaining and amusing. You are letting it rest so that is good, see you in a month.
Best!
Heart

[Erthona]

I didn't know until a week or so ago forest fires could create pyrocumulus clouds. I saw a big, white, puffy cloud in the area of a large forest fire north of where I was, one day, and wondered about it. I think it was later that same day I saw mention of the pyrocumulus in a local newspaper.

You might have noticed I left "that way" at the end of the line. I'm still on-the-fence about it. I like the way William Carlos Williams has it in a line of one of his poems, (Portrait of a Lady) so thought I would mimic it. Here it is in context:

"-- As if that answered
anything. -- Ah, yes. Below
the knees, since the tune
drops that way, it is
one of those white summer days,..."

I like to 'borrow' things from other writers, sometimes. Mainly for the purpose of humor. The title of this poem is a take on one by Walt Whitman: "When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloomed."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Never have been a big fan of enjambment but that mainly a stylistic preference on my part.

Dale

[Owlster Bierce]

Hi Owlster, there is little to add that hasn't been pointed out. Initially I felt this should be in the fun board, cause it is fun. I agree the
"cree,cree,cree" is not so good to the point of being annoying. The very volume of this put me off as I have the attention span of a gnat these days, but I stayed with it and found it to be quite entertaining and amusing. You are letting it rest so that is good, see you in a month.
Best!
Heart

Thanks, Heart. I take "entertaining and amusing" as a compliment, and actually consider the poem a success because you see it that way. I think if more poems were written with the reading public in mind instead of other poets more people would read poetry.