Crib Death

[ChristopherSea]

final

We are usually conceived
and born on a mattress.
We consummate our love in bed,
but often forsake it
there as well.

Crib Death

Stormy years
roused misgivings
to seed a thunderhead
beneath our bed’s canopy.
Our quicksilver clouds transmuted
to cumulonimbus anvils.
Thunderous hammers wrought
old passion into dueling rapiers.

Efforts to make time for intimacy
lapsed. Our time-weathered
clock tower collapsed in ruin,
its cogs and springs strewn
amid an ocean of bed linens.

Gargoyles born within us
squatted on mahogany bedposts
and roiled the once quiescent sea below,
breaching my vessel
upon your uncharted reefs,
where I await sea monsters.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Tom/Dale/Isis/Mercedes/Brownlie/Abu edit2 Thankyou!

(We are usually conceived and born on a mattress.
We consummate our love in bed, but often forsake it
there as well.)

Crib Death

Stormy years
roused misgivings
to seed a thunderhead
beneath our bed’s canopy.
Our quicksilver clouds transmuted
to cumulonimbus anvils.
Thunderous hammers wrought
old passion into dueling rapiers.

Efforts to make time for intimacy
lapsed. Our time-weathered
clock tower collapsed in ruin,
its cogs and springs strewn
amid an ocean of bed linens.

Gargoyles born within us
squatted on mahogany bedposts
and roiled the once quiescent sea below,
breaching my vessel
upon your uncharted reefs,
where I await your sea monsters
that inhabit them.


------------------------------------------------------
Tom/Dale/Isis/Mercedes/Brownlie/Abu edit1 Much obliged

Crib Death

Misgivings awoke
to seed a thunderhead
beneath our bed’s canopy.
Our quicksilver clouds transmuted
to cumulonimbus anvils
with thunderous hammers
that wrought old passion
into dueling rapiers.

Making time for intimacy lapsed.
Our time-weathered clock tower
collapsed in ruin,
its cogs and springs strewn
amid an ocean of bed linens.

Gargoyles squatted
on mahogany bedposts and roiled
the once quiescent sea below,
breaching my vessel upon uncharted reefs,
where I await your sea monsters.

-----------------------------------
Crib Death

Misgivings awoke
to seed a thunderhead
beneath our bed’s canopy.
Our quicksilver clouds transmuted
to hammer and anvil
to wrought old passion
into rapiers.

Time for intimacy lapsed,
its cogs and springs strewn
amid ruin of bed linens.
Pitons that toppled
our temple's clock-tower
oxidize within marble wounds.

Gargoyles of doubt squatted
on mahogany bedposts, roiling
quiescent seas below. My vessel lies
breached on uncharted reefs,
awaiting your sea monsters
that frequent them.

[tectak]

Crib Death

Misgivings awoke
to seed a thunderhead
beneath our bed’s canopy.A huge metaphor needs the realistion of huge meaning. I guess that's what disturbs this opener. You combine so many apparently connected abstract thoughts (in your head) that the simplicity of the central metaphor gets convoluted out of existence. We have wakening (from sleep?), seeding (from science), thunderheads (from meteorology) and where is it all? Under the bedclothes. But I can see where this is going and I will try to limit myself to understanding one metaphor at a time.
Our quicksilver clouds transmuted Yikes! This is too rich for me...surreal imagery has the advantage of being anything you want it to be and then some though I cannot keep up with clouds to hammer and anvil to wrought-ing passion into rapiers. I appreciate your style, Chris, but you are top-heavy with intent and and in danger of tipping over.
to hammer and anvil
to wrought old passion Difficult word, wrought. It is an archaic past tense of "to work" and so must mean "worked".Try to fit in the word "worked" and you get the point. Not wrong, just...er....difficult.
into rapiers.

Time for intimacy lapsed,
its cogs and springs strewn
amid ruin of bed linens. ...but this I like. We are behaving like human beings again. ruins. linen.
Pitons that toppled
our temple's clock-tower
oxidize within marble wounds.Now far be it from me to suggest this...but are you taking the piss Chris? I know what a piton is and what it can and cannot do. Toppling clock towers (on a TEMPLE?) is not one of the uses I have come across. Removing boy-scouts from horses' hooves, maybe, but temple toppling....nahh. All is opinion, but for me this is just one metaphoric maze with no way out.

Gargoyles of doubt squatted
on mahogany bedposts, roiling roiling and quiescent do not make good bedfellows...see, I can do it, too.
quiescent waters below. My vessel lies
breached on uncharted reefs,
awaiting your sea monsters
that frequent them.Them? Them....what them?

Chris,
It is wordy to no great effect. For what it is you may decide to let it rest because I suspect that you, like me, can admit to a liking for the sound of words. If so, then so be it....but I cannot crit this using any yardstick that would measure solid parameters... it is just too inflated with gas and has filled any space in to which it is put. Gas is like that
Best,
tectak

[ChristopherSea]

Thanks for giving it the ole poetic mentor try Tom. I thought that opening metaphor was properly stitched together: Stormy weather and failing relationships fit like puzzle pieces to me. Once that storms hits the sack, all is beyond salvation (that's the bed and canopy serving as sky). Cumulonibus thunderheads are anvil-shaped my friend. Taking a hammer to that anvil gives you thunder. You can also seed fair whether cumulus clouds with silver Iodide and induce storm cumulonimbus clouds. Hence, the meteorology, the metal work, perhaps a bit of alchemy at work. Moreover, a poisoned sky/relationship grown toxic is implied. Finally, what better to smith than swords (as passion is replaced with sharp words) for a dueling couple. How could that metaphor be any better or clearer?

In stanza two, don't tell me that columns can't be toppled with proper hammers and chisels (they were hewed out with them in the first place). I could do without the temple I suppose, but I need the clock-tower for the time references.

In stanza three, I was avoiding using 'once quiescent', but I add that back for clarity. Them? Inhabiting them thar reefs of course!

I will work it some more, but check out my explanations and please re-read, thanks! Bring back the name of a cold chisel that can chip away at a column, would you...

[Isis]

I saw that you've posted an explanation but haven't read it carefully yet (don't worry, I will before this post is posted and you're reading my comments). Basically, I'm going to look at the poem "fresh" and see how I interpret it/feel about it, and then take a look at your explanation and try my best to discuss the poem in light of that.

When reading the poem cold, without looking below, it seems like the title is critical to understanding. I get really strong feelings and images from the main text of the poem, but they all feel very metaphorical, and on their own I have a hard time knowing what they refer to, or how they are tied together. The title is the linchpin that helps me start to figure it out.

The first stanza, makes me think the parents have awoken anxious and gone to check on their child … and now a storm is brewing in them, one that is making them angry, possibly at each other. That's how I'm interpreting "wrought old passion into rapiers" - upon the death of the child, the parents have gone from loving each other to blaming each other.

I'm having a little bit of a harder time with the metaphors in the second stanza. I like the how the poem shows us time in a few ways. "Time" as it's first mentioned seems like the abstract way we usually talk about time in daily conversation - "ain't nobody got time for that", basically. But then time becomes physical, shown to us like a clock coming apart. I do wonder what "our temple" is. It seems very open for interpretation. Is it the bed or the home as a temple? Or married love as a temple? It's really hard for me to tell, and I think that effects how I read the poem. Maybe I'm missing the mark entirely. Because the temple is mentioned in the context of a metaphor for something else (descriptions of time), I feel a little distanced from it, like I have to make a few jumps before figuring out what it "means". And without figuring that out I also fill a little lost on the "pitons" (is it supposed to be pistons?) and on "marble wounds".

I wonder if the "Gargoyles of doubt" in the last stanza are on the couple's bedposts, or on the crib. This could be an important distinction as well; are we seeing the desolate crib as a sea, and is the speaker addressing the lost child? Or are we seeing the couple's bed as a sea, and the speaker is addressing his or her spouse?

Now that I read your explanation I see I might be missing the point of the poem… maybe the title doesn't mean what I think it means? Is this solely about a failing relationship?

Looking at the poem again, I feel like the first stanza is the most understandable. It feels a little difficult to get into because of the first line, I think. "Misgivings awoke" feels a little disconnected to me. I like the way "misgivings" is made alive/human. But at the same time I wonder … misgivings about what? I can guess from "our bed" that it's about the relationship and that the people in the poem are possibly a married couple, but I feel like I'm stretching for it. I wonder if there's some way to hit on the situation of the poem more clearly using "misgivings" before getting to the metaphors that carry most of the poem.

Despite knowing that this is a poem about a relationship, my questions about the second stanza remain pretty much the same.

I kind of wish there were one or two things in the poem outside of the metaphorical experience of the speaker to point more clearly towards what things like "our temple" and "your sea monsters" might be … I get particular feelings from these metaphors, and I assume they are aspects of relationship and personality, but for some reason they still feel general to me. Usually image and metaphor can go such a long way towards getting me interested in experiences that are general and kind of dull when written about like a phone call to a friend … experiences like relationship trouble, or a breakup. But in reading this poem I feel like I get the emotional side only and need to invent narrative to put those emotions into any kind of order, to transform them from a collection of impressions to something I can connect with. Maybe that's what you want your readers to do, invent a narrative, and if that's the case awesome. But maybe you had something a bit more denotative in mind?

[Erthona]

Chris,

I generally agree with Tom on this. I've re-wrought the first stanza, and it confirmed my initial assessment. While clever, this is uninspired

Suspicions awoke;
seeding a thunderhead
beneath our bed’s canopy.
Quicksilver clouds transformed
into hammer and anvil
to re-work resentments
into rapiers.

Tom Wrote: "but I cannot crit this using any yardstick that would measure solid parameters"

There are a lot of things wrong with this, too be sure, but I think what Tom senses, but doesn't say is as I've already said, it is clever (if over-wrought) but not inspired. This is totally a mental creation. I think if you corrected any problems with it, it would still fall flat, as does my re-worked S1 above.

Sorry to be so terse, would like to say more (not that I am sure it would do any good), but have to run,

Dale
______________________________________________________________________________________________________

wrought=created;fabricated;fashioned, archaic when used as past tense for work.

"Bring back the name of a cold chisel that can chip away at a column, would you..." "stone chisel(s)" All chisels are cold unless it is used to cut heated metal, such as is done in sword making when one folds metal again and again.

A piton is not a chisel it is a piton, used for mountain climbing, not for bringing mountains down.

[abu nuwas]

Like Isis, I was initially thrown by the title, and looked for a child-tragedy. Certainly, had such an event preceded the events of the poem, it would have been very likely to have been the cause. I did not find that, however, and although I rather liked the metaphors, and language, I felt something was missing when I finished. I think it is this: couched in figurative language, it nevertheless tells a straight-forward story, beginning at the beginning, and running through to an expected end -- so, while it is a relief to read something comprehensible, there is also a flat feeling. No twists, no punch-line.

I daren't say a thing about 'wrought', on account of being a convicted Archaist.

[tectak]

Thanks for giving it the ole poetic mentor try Tom. I thought that opening metaphor was properly stitched together: Stormy weather and failing relationships fit like puzzle pieces to me. Once that storms hits the sack, all is beyond salvation (that's the bed and canopy serving as sky). Cumulonibus thunderheads are anvil-shaped my friend. Taking a hammer to that anvil gives you thunder. You can also seed fair whether cumulus clouds with silver Iodide and induce storm cumulonimbus clouds. Hence, the meteorology, the metal work, perhaps a bit of alchemy at work. Moreover, a poisoned sky/relationship grown toxic is implied. Finally, what better to smith than swords (as passion is replaced with sharp words) for a dueling couple. How could that metaphor be any better or clearer?

In stanza two, don't tell me that columns can't be toppled with proper hammers and chisels (they were hewed out with them in the first place). I could do without the temple I suppose, but I need the clock-tower for the time references.

In stanza three, I was avoiding using 'once quiescent', but I add that back for clarity. Them? Inhabiting them thar reefs of course!

I will work it some more, but check out my explanations and please re-read, thanks! Bring back the name of a cold chisel that can chip away at a column, would you...

Hi Chris,
One of the first things that I learned off my own back (nobody told me) was THE most painful lesson of all...if you have to explain your poetry, DON'T.
Blame the reader then re-write it.
Best,
Tectak

[just mercedes]

Crib Death

I understand the extended metaphor, and the second metaphor, but overall the poem feels a bit self-conscious to me. Some great sounds and images, but uneasily mixed with others not as strong. The misgivings that opened the poem vanish straight away, and the poem journeys from a (real) bed through a (metaphorical)temple to a (metaphorical) ocean and shipwreck.

Misgivings awoke were they asleep? why did they wake up?
to seed a thunderhead I can't imagine the action here - I know it can be done but I can't picture it
beneath our bed’s canopy. even a metaphorical thunderhead would have problems fitting under a bed canopy.
Our quicksilver clouds transmuted clever play with words, but 'quicksilver' and 'thunderhead' describe very different cloud formations to me - a thunderhead being almost static
to hammer and anvil a cloud becomes a hammer/anvil? difficult to combine the two images for me
to wrought old passion'wrought' is past tense - present tense and infinitive form is the word 'work' - therefore this line should be 'to work old passion'
into rapiers.is this the right word? I connect rapiers with wit rather than sorrow or anger.

Time for intimacy lapsed, 'lapsed' doesn't give me the disintegration you speak of
its cogs and springs strewn
amid ruin of bed linens. ruin? surely they're just untidy?
Pitons that toppled 'pitons' are a metal spike driven in to give safe attachments for climbing gear - they are hit into place with a hammer but aren't themselves a tool.
our temple's clock-tower
oxidize within marble wounds.where are these wounds, now that the temple has been toppled?

Gargoyles of doubt squatted 'gargoyle' is a very concrete image to use with the abstract 'doubt'
on mahogany bedposts, roiling
quiescent waters below. My vessel lies Now the temple has been demolished the scene changes to the ocean?
breached on uncharted reefs,
awaiting your sea monsters
that frequent them.I don't think this final line is needed - I like the way it ends, with 'sea monsters'.

[ChristopherSea]

I saw that you've posted an explanation but haven't read it carefully yet (don't worry, I will before this post is posted and you're reading my comments). Basically, I'm going to look at the poem "fresh" and see how I interpret it/feel about it, and then take a look at your explanation and try my best to discuss the poem in light of that.

When reading the poem cold, without looking below, it seems like the title is critical to understanding. I get really strong feelings and images from the main text of the poem, but they all feel very metaphorical, and on their own I have a hard time knowing what they refer to, or how they are tied together. The title is the linchpin that helps me start to figure it out.

The first stanza, makes me think the parents have awoken anxious and gone to check on their child … and now a storm is brewing in them, one that is making them angry, possibly at each other. That's how I'm interpreting "wrought old passion into rapiers" - upon the death of the child, the parents have gone from loving each other to blaming each other.

I'm having a little bit of a harder time with the metaphors in the second stanza. I like the how the poem shows us time in a few ways. "Time" as it's first mentioned seems like the abstract way we usually talk about time in daily conversation - "ain't nobody got time for that", basically. But then time becomes physical, shown to us like a clock coming apart. I do wonder what "our temple" is. It seems very open for interpretation. Is it the bed or the home as a temple? Or married love as a temple? It's really hard for me to tell, and I think that effects how I read the poem. Maybe I'm missing the mark entirely. Because the temple is mentioned in the context of a metaphor for something else (descriptions of time), I feel a little distanced from it, like I have to make a few jumps before figuring out what it "means". And without figuring that out I also fill a little lost on the "pitons" (is it supposed to be pistons?) and on "marble wounds".

I wonder if the "Gargoyles of doubt" in the last stanza are on the couple's bedposts, or on the crib. This could be an important distinction as well; are we seeing the desolate crib as a sea, and is the speaker addressing the lost child? Or are we seeing the couple's bed as a sea, and the speaker is addressing his or her spouse?

Now that I read your explanation I see I might be missing the point of the poem… maybe the title doesn't mean what I think it means? Is this solely about a failing relationship?

Looking at the poem again, I feel like the first stanza is the most understandable. It feels a little difficult to get into because of the first line, I think. "Misgivings awoke" feels a little disconnected to me. I like the way "misgivings" is made alive/human. But at the same time I wonder … misgivings about what? I can guess from "our bed" that it's about the relationship and that the people in the poem are possibly a married couple, but I feel like I'm stretching for it. I wonder if there's some way to hit on the situation of the poem more clearly using "misgivings" before getting to the metaphors that carry most of the poem.

Despite knowing that this is a poem about a relationship, my questions about the second stanza remain pretty much the same.

I kind of wish there were one or two things in the poem outside of the metaphorical experience of the speaker to point more clearly towards what things like "our temple" and "your sea monsters" might be … I get particular feelings from these metaphors, and I assume they are aspects of relationship and personality, but for some reason they still feel general to me. Usually image and metaphor can go such a long way towards getting me interested in experiences that are general and kind of dull when written about like a phone call to a friend … experiences like relationship trouble, or a breakup. But in reading this poem I feel like I get the emotional side only and need to invent narrative to put those emotions into any kind of order, to transform them from a collection of impressions to something I can connect with. Maybe that's what you want your readers to do, invent a narrative, and if that's the case awesome. But maybe you had something a bit more denotative in mind?

Isis, thank you for reading the poem and sharing your impressions. There is no child in the poem. Crib Death refers to the death of a relationship, specifically a physical one. Usually, it's the last thing to go between lovers and once that intimacy is gone, it's the kiss of death. I made their world the bed. You are probably correct about their being too much metaphor herein. An edit should try to correct that. Much obliged!/Chris

---

Chris,

I generally agree with Tom on this. I've re-wrought the first stanza, and it confirmed my initial assessment. While clever, this is uninspired

Suspicions awoke;
seeding a thunderhead
beneath our bed’s canopy.
Quicksilver clouds transformed
into hammer and anvil
to re-work resentments
into rapiers.

Tom Wrote: "but I cannot crit this using any yardstick that would measure solid parameters"

There are a lot of things wrong with this, too be sure, but I think what Tom senses, but doesn't say is as I've already said, it is clever (if over-wrought) but not inspired. This is totally a mental creation. I think if you corrected any problems with it, it would still fall flat, as does my re-worked S1 above.

Sorry to be so terse, would like to say more (not that I am sure it would do any good), but have to run,

Dale
______________________________________________________________________________________________________

wrought=created;fabricated;fashioned, archaic when used as past tense for work.

"Bring back the name of a cold chisel that can chip away at a column, would you..." "stone chisel(s)" All chisels are cold unless it is used to cut heated metal, such as is done in sword making when one folds metal again and again.

A piton is not a chisel it is a piton, used for mountain climbing, not for bringing mountains down.

Thanks for giving it a try Dale. I will knock down the tower with something else. Thank you./Chris

---

Like Isis, I was initially thrown by the title, and looked for a child-tragedy. Certainly, had such an event preceded the events of the poem, it would have been very likely to have been the cause. I did not find that, however, and although I rather liked the metaphors, and language, I felt something was missing when I finished. I think it is this: couched in figurative language, it nevertheless tells a straight-forward story, beginning at the beginning, and running through to an expected end -- so, while it is a relief to read something comprehensible, there is also a flat feeling. No twists, no punch-line.

I daren't say a thing about 'wrought', on account of being a convicted Archaist.

Much obliged Abu. I thought that the story was pretty clear, but I realize that it lacks the emotive power to drive the metaphor usage herein. I have no problems with wrought when it comes to sword making. Cheers/Chris

---

Crib Death

I understand the extended metaphor, and the second metaphor, but overall the poem feels a bit self-conscious to me. Some great sounds and images, but uneasily mixed with others not as strong. The misgivings that opened the poem vanish straight away, and the poem journeys from a (real) bed through a (metaphorical)temple to a (metaphorical) ocean and shipwreck.

Misgivings awoke were they asleep? why did they wake up?
to seed a thunderhead I can't imagine the action here - I know it can be done but I can't picture it
beneath our bed’s canopy. even a metaphorical thunderhead would have problems fitting under a bed canopy.
Our quicksilver clouds transmuted clever play with words, but 'quicksilver' and 'thunderhead' describe very different cloud formations to me - a thunderhead being almost static
to hammer and anvil a cloud becomes a hammer/anvil? difficult to combine the two images for me
to wrought old passion'wrought' is past tense - present tense and infinitive form is the word 'work' - therefore this line should be 'to work old passion'
into rapiers.is this the right word? I connect rapiers with wit rather than sorrow or anger.

Time for intimacy lapsed, 'lapsed' doesn't give me the disintegration you speak of
its cogs and springs strewn
amid ruin of bed linens. ruin? surely they're just untidy?
Pitons that toppled 'pitons' are a metal spike driven in to give safe attachments for climbing gear - they are hit into place with a hammer but aren't themselves a tool.
our temple's clock-tower
oxidize within marble wounds.where are these wounds, now that the temple has been toppled?

Gargoyles of doubt squatted 'gargoyle' is a very concrete image to use with the abstract 'doubt'
on mahogany bedposts, roiling
quiescent waters below. My vessel lies Now the temple has been demolished the scene changes to the ocean?
breached on uncharted reefs,
awaiting your sea monsters
that frequent them.I don't think this final line is needed - I like the way it ends, with 'sea monsters'.

Thanks Mercedes for some great observations and comments. I still don't get the failure of readers to relate a storm to a failed relationship. The analogy of a stormy marriage is a time worn one. Nonetheless, I'll have to rework it. I made the bed their realm and as such the canopy served as the sky, their temple/tower was an island in a sea of sheets. I'll have to knock down that tower with something else. Probably time itself. However, it seems that no one can put together the metaphors and see a failed marriage, but myself. I will have to see if this one is worth reworking. I appreciate you stopping on one of your rare visits to the site. Cheers/Chris

---

I saw that you've posted an explanation but haven't read it carefully yet (don't worry, I will before this post is posted and you're reading my comments). Basically, I'm going to look at the poem "fresh" and see how I interpret it/feel about it, and then take a look at your explanation and try my best to discuss the poem in light of that.

When reading the poem cold, without looking below, it seems like the title is critical to understanding. I get really strong feelings and images from the main text of the poem, but they all feel very metaphorical, and on their own I have a hard time knowing what they refer to, or how they are tied together. The title is the linchpin that helps me start to figure it out.

The first stanza, makes me think the parents have awoken anxious and gone to check on their child … and now a storm is brewing in them, one that is making them angry, possibly at each other. That's how I'm interpreting "wrought old passion into rapiers" - upon the death of the child, the parents have gone from loving each other to blaming each other.

I'm having a little bit of a harder time with the metaphors in the second stanza. I like the how the poem shows us time in a few ways. "Time" as it's first mentioned seems like the abstract way we usually talk about time in daily conversation - "ain't nobody got time for that", basically. But then time becomes physical, shown to us like a clock coming apart. I do wonder what "our temple" is. It seems very open for interpretation. Is it the bed or the home as a temple? Or married love as a temple? It's really hard for me to tell, and I think that effects how I read the poem. Maybe I'm missing the mark entirely. Because the temple is mentioned in the context of a metaphor for something else (descriptions of time), I feel a little distanced from it, like I have to make a few jumps before figuring out what it "means". And without figuring that out I also fill a little lost on the "pitons" (is it supposed to be pistons?) and on "marble wounds".

I wonder if the "Gargoyles of doubt" in the last stanza are on the couple's bedposts, or on the crib. This could be an important distinction as well; are we seeing the desolate crib as a sea, and is the speaker addressing the lost child? Or are we seeing the couple's bed as a sea, and the speaker is addressing his or her spouse?

Now that I read your explanation I see I might be missing the point of the poem… maybe the title doesn't mean what I think it means? Is this solely about a failing relationship?

Looking at the poem again, I feel like the first stanza is the most understandable. It feels a little difficult to get into because of the first line, I think. "Misgivings awoke" feels a little disconnected to me. I like the way "misgivings" is made alive/human. But at the same time I wonder … misgivings about what? I can guess from "our bed" that it's about the relationship and that the people in the poem are possibly a married couple, but I feel like I'm stretching for it. I wonder if there's some way to hit on the situation of the poem more clearly using "misgivings" before getting to the metaphors that carry most of the poem.

Despite knowing that this is a poem about a relationship, my questions about the second stanza remain pretty much the same.

I kind of wish there were one or two things in the poem outside of the metaphorical experience of the speaker to point more clearly towards what things like "our temple" and "your sea monsters" might be … I get particular feelings from these metaphors, and I assume they are aspects of relationship and personality, but for some reason they still feel general to me. Usually image and metaphor can go such a long way towards getting me interested in experiences that are general and kind of dull when written about like a phone call to a friend … experiences like relationship trouble, or a breakup. But in reading this poem I feel like I get the emotional side only and need to invent narrative to put those emotions into any kind of order, to transform them from a collection of impressions to something I can connect with. Maybe that's what you want your readers to do, invent a narrative, and if that's the case awesome. But maybe you had something a bit more denotative in mind?

Isis, thank you for reading the poem and sharing your impressions. There is no child in the poem. Crib Death refers to the death of a relationship, specifically a physical one. Usually, it's the last thing to go between lovers and once that intimacy is gone, it's the kiss of death. I made their world the bed. You are probably correct about their being too much metaphor herein. An edit should try to correct that. Much obliged!/Chris

---

Chris,

I generally agree with Tom on this. I've re-wrought the first stanza, and it confirmed my initial assessment. While clever, this is uninspired

Suspicions awoke;
seeding a thunderhead
beneath our bed’s canopy.
Quicksilver clouds transformed
into hammer and anvil
to re-work resentments
into rapiers.

Tom Wrote: "but I cannot crit this using any yardstick that would measure solid parameters"

There are a lot of things wrong with this, too be sure, but I think what Tom senses, but doesn't say is as I've already said, it is clever (if over-wrought) but not inspired. This is totally a mental creation. I think if you corrected any problems with it, it would still fall flat, as does my re-worked S1 above.

Sorry to be so terse, would like to say more (not that I am sure it would do any good), but have to run,

Dale
______________________________________________________________________________________________________

wrought=created;fabricated;fashioned, archaic when used as past tense for work.

"Bring back the name of a cold chisel that can chip away at a column, would you..." "stone chisel(s)" All chisels are cold unless it is used to cut heated metal, such as is done in sword making when one folds metal again and again.

A piton is not a chisel it is a piton, used for mountain climbing, not for bringing mountains down.

Thanks for giving it a try Dale. I will knock down the tower with something else. Thank you./Chris

---

Like Isis, I was initially thrown by the title, and looked for a child-tragedy. Certainly, had such an event preceded the events of the poem, it would have been very likely to have been the cause. I did not find that, however, and although I rather liked the metaphors, and language, I felt something was missing when I finished. I think it is this: couched in figurative language, it nevertheless tells a straight-forward story, beginning at the beginning, and running through to an expected end -- so, while it is a relief to read something comprehensible, there is also a flat feeling. No twists, no punch-line.

I daren't say a thing about 'wrought', on account of being a convicted Archaist.

Much obliged Abu. I thought that the story was pretty clear, but I realize that it lacks the emotive power to drive the metaphor usage herein. I have no problems with wrought when it comes to sword making. Cheers/Chris

---

Crib Death

I understand the extended metaphor, and the second metaphor, but overall the poem feels a bit self-conscious to me. Some great sounds and images, but uneasily mixed with others not as strong. The misgivings that opened the poem vanish straight away, and the poem journeys from a (real) bed through a (metaphorical)temple to a (metaphorical) ocean and shipwreck.

Misgivings awoke were they asleep? why did they wake up?
to seed a thunderhead I can't imagine the action here - I know it can be done but I can't picture it
beneath our bed’s canopy. even a metaphorical thunderhead would have problems fitting under a bed canopy.
Our quicksilver clouds transmuted clever play with words, but 'quicksilver' and 'thunderhead' describe very different cloud formations to me - a thunderhead being almost static
to hammer and anvil a cloud becomes a hammer/anvil? difficult to combine the two images for me
to wrought old passion'wrought' is past tense - present tense and infinitive form is the word 'work' - therefore this line should be 'to work old passion'
into rapiers.is this the right word? I connect rapiers with wit rather than sorrow or anger.

Time for intimacy lapsed, 'lapsed' doesn't give me the disintegration you speak of
its cogs and springs strewn
amid ruin of bed linens. ruin? surely they're just untidy?
Pitons that toppled 'pitons' are a metal spike driven in to give safe attachments for climbing gear - they are hit into place with a hammer but aren't themselves a tool.
our temple's clock-tower
oxidize within marble wounds.where are these wounds, now that the temple has been toppled?

Gargoyles of doubt squatted 'gargoyle' is a very concrete image to use with the abstract 'doubt'
on mahogany bedposts, roiling
quiescent waters below. My vessel lies Now the temple has been demolished the scene changes to the ocean?
breached on uncharted reefs,
awaiting your sea monsters
that frequent them.I don't think this final line is needed - I like the way it ends, with 'sea monsters'.

Thanks Mercedes for some great observations and comments. I still don't get the failure of readers to relate a storm to a failed relationship. The analogy of a stormy marriage is a time worn one. Yes, fair weather clouds can turn stormy. Cumulus clouds become cumulonimbus, which a a classic anvil shape. I can't fathom folks not seeing that. Nonetheless, I'll have to rework it. I made the bed their realm and as such the canopy served as the sky, their temple/tower was an island in a sea of sheets. I'll have to knock down that tower with something else. Probably time itself. However, it seems that no one can put together the metaphors and see a failed marriage, but myself. I will have to see if this one is worth reworking. I appreciate you stopping by on one of your rare visits to the site. Cheers/Chris

[ChristopherSea]

I saw that you've posted an explanation but haven't read it carefully yet (don't worry, I will before this post is posted and you're reading my comments). Basically, I'm going to look at the poem "fresh" and see how I interpret it/feel about it, and then take a look at your explanation and try my best to discuss the poem in light of that.

When reading the poem cold, without looking below, it seems like the title is critical to understanding. I get really strong feelings and images from the main text of the poem, but they all feel very metaphorical, and on their own I have a hard time knowing what they refer to, or how they are tied together. The title is the linchpin that helps me start to figure it out.

The first stanza, makes me think the parents have awoken anxious and gone to check on their child … and now a storm is brewing in them, one that is making them angry, possibly at each other. That's how I'm interpreting "wrought old passion into rapiers" - upon the death of the child, the parents have gone from loving each other to blaming each other.

I'm having a little bit of a harder time with the metaphors in the second stanza. I like the how the poem shows us time in a few ways. "Time" as it's first mentioned seems like the abstract way we usually talk about time in daily conversation - "ain't nobody got time for that", basically. But then time becomes physical, shown to us like a clock coming apart. I do wonder what "our temple" is. It seems very open for interpretation. Is it the bed or the home as a temple? Or married love as a temple? It's really hard for me to tell, and I think that effects how I read the poem. Maybe I'm missing the mark entirely. Because the temple is mentioned in the context of a metaphor for something else (descriptions of time), I feel a little distanced from it, like I have to make a few jumps before figuring out what it "means". And without figuring that out I also fill a little lost on the "pitons" (is it supposed to be pistons?) and on "marble wounds".

I wonder if the "Gargoyles of doubt" in the last stanza are on the couple's bedposts, or on the crib. This could be an important distinction as well; are we seeing the desolate crib as a sea, and is the speaker addressing the lost child? Or are we seeing the couple's bed as a sea, and the speaker is addressing his or her spouse?

Now that I read your explanation I see I might be missing the point of the poem… maybe the title doesn't mean what I think it means? Is this solely about a failing relationship?

Looking at the poem again, I feel like the first stanza is the most understandable. It feels a little difficult to get into because of the first line, I think. "Misgivings awoke" feels a little disconnected to me. I like the way "misgivings" is made alive/human. But at the same time I wonder … misgivings about what? I can guess from "our bed" that it's about the relationship and that the people in the poem are possibly a married couple, but I feel like I'm stretching for it. I wonder if there's some way to hit on the situation of the poem more clearly using "misgivings" before getting to the metaphors that carry most of the poem.

Despite knowing that this is a poem about a relationship, my questions about the second stanza remain pretty much the same.

I kind of wish there were one or two things in the poem outside of the metaphorical experience of the speaker to point more clearly towards what things like "our temple" and "your sea monsters" might be … I get particular feelings from these metaphors, and I assume they are aspects of relationship and personality, but for some reason they still feel general to me. Usually image and metaphor can go such a long way towards getting me interested in experiences that are general and kind of dull when written about like a phone call to a friend … experiences like relationship trouble, or a breakup. But in reading this poem I feel like I get the emotional side only and need to invent narrative to put those emotions into any kind of order, to transform them from a collection of impressions to something I can connect with. Maybe that's what you want your readers to do, invent a narrative, and if that's the case awesome. But maybe you had something a bit more denotative in mind?

Isis, thank you for reading the poem and sharing your impressions. There is no child in the poem. Crib Death refers to the death of a relationship, specifically a physical one. Usually, it's the last thing to go between lovers and once that intimacy is gone, it's the kiss of death. I made their world the bed. You are probably correct about their being too much metaphor herein. An edit should try to correct that. Much obliged!/Chris

---

Chris,

I generally agree with Tom on this. I've re-wrought the first stanza, and it confirmed my initial assessment. While clever, this is uninspired

Suspicions awoke;
seeding a thunderhead
beneath our bed’s canopy.
Quicksilver clouds transformed
into hammer and anvil
to re-work resentments
into rapiers.

Tom Wrote: "but I cannot crit this using any yardstick that would measure solid parameters"

There are a lot of things wrong with this, too be sure, but I think what Tom senses, but doesn't say is as I've already said, it is clever (if over-wrought) but not inspired. This is totally a mental creation. I think if you corrected any problems with it, it would still fall flat, as does my re-worked S1 above.

Sorry to be so terse, would like to say more (not that I am sure it would do any good), but have to run,

Dale
______________________________________________________________________________________________________

wrought=created;fabricated;fashioned, archaic when used as past tense for work.

"Bring back the name of a cold chisel that can chip away at a column, would you..." "stone chisel(s)" All chisels are cold unless it is used to cut heated metal, such as is done in sword making when one folds metal again and again.

A piton is not a chisel it is a piton, used for mountain climbing, not for bringing mountains down.

Thanks for giving it a try Dale. I will knock down the tower with something else. Thank you./Chris

---

Like Isis, I was initially thrown by the title, and looked for a child-tragedy. Certainly, had such an event preceded the events of the poem, it would have been very likely to have been the cause. I did not find that, however, and although I rather liked the metaphors, and language, I felt something was missing when I finished. I think it is this: couched in figurative language, it nevertheless tells a straight-forward story, beginning at the beginning, and running through to an expected end -- so, while it is a relief to read something comprehensible, there is also a flat feeling. No twists, no punch-line.

I daren't say a thing about 'wrought', on account of being a convicted Archaist.

Much obliged Abu. I thought that the story was pretty clear, but I realize that it lacks the emotive power to drive the metaphor usage herein. I have no problems with wrought when it comes to sword making. Cheers/Chris

---

Crib Death

I understand the extended metaphor, and the second metaphor, but overall the poem feels a bit self-conscious to me. Some great sounds and images, but uneasily mixed with others not as strong. The misgivings that opened the poem vanish straight away, and the poem journeys from a (real) bed through a (metaphorical)temple to a (metaphorical) ocean and shipwreck.

Misgivings awoke were they asleep? why did they wake up?
to seed a thunderhead I can't imagine the action here - I know it can be done but I can't picture it
beneath our bed’s canopy. even a metaphorical thunderhead would have problems fitting under a bed canopy.
Our quicksilver clouds transmuted clever play with words, but 'quicksilver' and 'thunderhead' describe very different cloud formations to me - a thunderhead being almost static
to hammer and anvil a cloud becomes a hammer/anvil? difficult to combine the two images for me
to wrought old passion'wrought' is past tense - present tense and infinitive form is the word 'work' - therefore this line should be 'to work old passion'
into rapiers.is this the right word? I connect rapiers with wit rather than sorrow or anger.

Time for intimacy lapsed, 'lapsed' doesn't give me the disintegration you speak of
its cogs and springs strewn
amid ruin of bed linens. ruin? surely they're just untidy?
Pitons that toppled 'pitons' are a metal spike driven in to give safe attachments for climbing gear - they are hit into place with a hammer but aren't themselves a tool.
our temple's clock-tower
oxidize within marble wounds.where are these wounds, now that the temple has been toppled?

Gargoyles of doubt squatted 'gargoyle' is a very concrete image to use with the abstract 'doubt'
on mahogany bedposts, roiling
quiescent waters below. My vessel lies Now the temple has been demolished the scene changes to the ocean?
breached on uncharted reefs,
awaiting your sea monsters
that frequent them.I don't think this final line is needed - I like the way it ends, with 'sea monsters'.

I saw that you've posted an explanation but haven't read it carefully yet (don't worry, I will before this post is posted and you're reading my comments). Basically, I'm going to look at the poem "fresh" and see how I interpret it/feel about it, and then take a look at your explanation and try my best to discuss the poem in light of that.

When reading the poem cold, without looking below, it seems like the title is critical to understanding. I get really strong feelings and images from the main text of the poem, but they all feel very metaphorical, and on their own I have a hard time knowing what they refer to, or how they are tied together. The title is the linchpin that helps me start to figure it out.

The first stanza, makes me think the parents have awoken anxious and gone to check on their child … and now a storm is brewing in them, one that is making them angry, possibly at each other. That's how I'm interpreting "wrought old passion into rapiers" - upon the death of the child, the parents have gone from loving each other to blaming each other.

I'm having a little bit of a harder time with the metaphors in the second stanza. I like the how the poem shows us time in a few ways. "Time" as it's first mentioned seems like the abstract way we usually talk about time in daily conversation - "ain't nobody got time for that", basically. But then time becomes physical, shown to us like a clock coming apart. I do wonder what "our temple" is. It seems very open for interpretation. Is it the bed or the home as a temple? Or married love as a temple? It's really hard for me to tell, and I think that effects how I read the poem. Maybe I'm missing the mark entirely. Because the temple is mentioned in the context of a metaphor for something else (descriptions of time), I feel a little distanced from it, like I have to make a few jumps before figuring out what it "means". And without figuring that out I also fill a little lost on the "pitons" (is it supposed to be pistons?) and on "marble wounds".

I wonder if the "Gargoyles of doubt" in the last stanza are on the couple's bedposts, or on the crib. This could be an important distinction as well; are we seeing the desolate crib as a sea, and is the speaker addressing the lost child? Or are we seeing the couple's bed as a sea, and the speaker is addressing his or her spouse?

Now that I read your explanation I see I might be missing the point of the poem… maybe the title doesn't mean what I think it means? Is this solely about a failing relationship?

Looking at the poem again, I feel like the first stanza is the most understandable. It feels a little difficult to get into because of the first line, I think. "Misgivings awoke" feels a little disconnected to me. I like the way "misgivings" is made alive/human. But at the same time I wonder … misgivings about what? I can guess from "our bed" that it's about the relationship and that the people in the poem are possibly a married couple, but I feel like I'm stretching for it. I wonder if there's some way to hit on the situation of the poem more clearly using "misgivings" before getting to the metaphors that carry most of the poem.

Despite knowing that this is a poem about a relationship, my questions about the second stanza remain pretty much the same.

I kind of wish there were one or two things in the poem outside of the metaphorical experience of the speaker to point more clearly towards what things like "our temple" and "your sea monsters" might be … I get particular feelings from these metaphors, and I assume they are aspects of relationship and personality, but for some reason they still feel general to me. Usually image and metaphor can go such a long way towards getting me interested in experiences that are general and kind of dull when written about like a phone call to a friend … experiences like relationship trouble, or a breakup. But in reading this poem I feel like I get the emotional side only and need to invent narrative to put those emotions into any kind of order, to transform them from a collection of impressions to something I can connect with. Maybe that's what you want your readers to do, invent a narrative, and if that's the case awesome. But maybe you had something a bit more denotative in mind?

Isis, thank you for reading the poem and sharing your impressions. There is no child in the poem. Crib Death refers to the death of a relationship, specifically a physical one. Usually, it's the last thing to go between lovers and once that intimacy is gone, it's the kiss of death. I made their world the bed. You are probably correct about their being too much metaphor herein. An edit should try to correct that. Much obliged!/Chris

---

Chris,

I generally agree with Tom on this. I've re-wrought the first stanza, and it confirmed my initial assessment. While clever, this is uninspired

Suspicions awoke;
seeding a thunderhead
beneath our bed’s canopy.
Quicksilver clouds transformed
into hammer and anvil
to re-work resentments
into rapiers.

Tom Wrote: "but I cannot crit this using any yardstick that would measure solid parameters"

There are a lot of things wrong with this, too be sure, but I think what Tom senses, but doesn't say is as I've already said, it is clever (if over-wrought) but not inspired. This is totally a mental creation. I think if you corrected any problems with it, it would still fall flat, as does my re-worked S1 above.

Sorry to be so terse, would like to say more (not that I am sure it would do any good), but have to run,

Dale
______________________________________________________________________________________________________

wrought=created;fabricated;fashioned, archaic when used as past tense for work.

"Bring back the name of a cold chisel that can chip away at a column, would you..." "stone chisel(s)" All chisels are cold unless it is used to cut heated metal, such as is done in sword making when one folds metal again and again.

A piton is not a chisel it is a piton, used for mountain climbing, not for bringing mountains down.

Thanks for giving it a try Dale. I will knock down the tower with something else. Thank you./Chris

---

Like Isis, I was initially thrown by the title, and looked for a child-tragedy. Certainly, had such an event preceded the events of the poem, it would have been very likely to have been the cause. I did not find that, however, and although I rather liked the metaphors, and language, I felt something was missing when I finished. I think it is this: couched in figurative language, it nevertheless tells a straight-forward story, beginning at the beginning, and running through to an expected end -- so, while it is a relief to read something comprehensible, there is also a flat feeling. No twists, no punch-line.

I daren't say a thing about 'wrought', on account of being a convicted Archaist.

Much obliged Abu. I thought that the story was pretty clear, but I realize that it lacks the emotive power to drive the metaphor usage herein. I have no problems with wrought when it comes to sword making. Cheers/Chris

---

Thanks Mercedes for some great observations and comments. I still don't get the failure of readers to relate a storm to a failed relationship. The analogy of a stormy marriage is a time worn one. Yes, fair weather clouds can turn stormy. Cumulus clouds become cumulonimbus, which assume a classic anvil shape. I can't fathom folks not seeing that or at least researching it themselves. Nonetheless, I'll have to rework it. I made the bed their realm and as such the canopy served as the sky, their temple/tower was on an island in a sea of sheets. I'll have to knock down that tower with something else, as no one is buying pitons. I would think using them plus ropes could do so. Probably time itself weathering down the building to ruins would fair better. However, it seems that no one can put together the metaphors and see a failed marriage, but myself. I will have to see if this one is worth reworking. I appreciate you stopping by on one of your rare visits to the site. Cheers/Chris

[abu nuwas]

Chris, I was surprised by people's bafflement. What I tried to say, was that I thought the story almost too obvious - crib aside, that is.

E

[ChristopherSea]

Chris, I was surprised by people's bafflement. What I tried to say, was that I thought the story almost too obvious - crib aside, that is.

E

Yes, I agree with you Abu. I saw no vagueness with the metaphors. You can find the anvil structure of thunderheads in wikipedia. I didn't see a problem with pulling down columns with pitons and ropes. However, I think it failed overall because it was all metaphor without proper motivation, convincing emotion or back story. The title was probably me trying to be too clever, with 'crib' symbolizing 'home' and 'death' standing for the end of a marriage. No one could fathom a bed as a world either. I may try to re-work this.

[Brownlie]

Crib Death

Misgivings awoke
to seed a thunderhead - I see what your doing here, I do like the cloud study it adds a new dimension to the proverbial yellow fork. However, I think binding it to such a clearly drawn metaphor weakens the poem. If the couple was simply observing the phenomena it might be more effective.
beneath our bed’s canopy.
Our quicksilver clouds transmuted
to hammer and anvil
to wrought old passion
into rapiers. --- You're running into the category of the word rapine sort of (with connotations of rape), but that's kind of an out of the blue observation. Hammer and anvil is pretty cool I'm not sure if that's been done before.

Time for intimacy lapsed, -- These abstractions like intimacy may be weakening your poem.
its cogs and springs strewn
amid ruin of bed linens. -- I agree that ruin is a bit too strong. The metaphor may be a bit too obvious here as some seem to have said
Pitons that toppled
our temple's clock-tower
oxidize within marble wounds. -- Marble connects to your title which is a nice touch

Gargoyles of doubt squatted
on mahogany bedposts, roiling -- I have a hunch roiling was pretty clever here.
quiescent waters below. My vessel lies
breached on uncharted reefs,
awaiting your sea monsters -- Maybe a specific sea monster.
that frequent them.

Made some sort of haphazard comments. Thanks for posting.

[ChristopherSea]

Crib Death

Misgivings awoke
to seed a thunderhead - I see what your doing here, I do like the cloud study it adds a new dimension to the proverbial yellow fork. However, I think binding it to such a clearly drawn metaphor weakens the poem. If the couple was simply observing the phenomena it might be more effective.
beneath our bed’s canopy.
Our quicksilver clouds transmuted
to hammer and anvil
to wrought old passion
into rapiers. --- You're running into the category of the word rapine sort of (with connotations of rape), but that's kind of an out of the blue observation. Hammer and anvil is pretty cool I'm not sure if that's been done before.

Time for intimacy lapsed, -- These abstractions like intimacy may be weakening your poem.
its cogs and springs strewn
amid ruin of bed linens. -- I agree that ruin is a bit too strong. The metaphor may be a bit too obvious here as some seem to have said
Pitons that toppled
our temple's clock-tower
oxidize within marble wounds. -- Marble connects to your title which is a nice touch

Gargoyles of doubt squatted
on mahogany bedposts, roiling -- I have a hunch roiling was pretty clever here.
quiescent waters below. My vessel lies
breached on uncharted reefs,
awaiting your sea monsters -- Maybe a specific sea monster.
that frequent them.

Made some sort of haphazard comments. Thanks for posting.

I appreciate the read and comments brownlie. I have some work ahead of me to clarify the metaphors and strengthen the emotive thrust for this one. Thanks and cheers./Chris

[ChristopherSea]

Much obliged for all of the input. I hope Tom/Dale/Isis/Mercedes/Brownlie/Abu edit1 begins to address folks concerns./Chris

---

Thanks for giving it the ole poetic mentor try Tom. I thought that opening metaphor was properly stitched together: Stormy weather and failing relationships fit like puzzle pieces to me. Once that storms hits the sack, all is beyond salvation (that's the bed and canopy serving as sky). Cumulonibus thunderheads are anvil-shaped my friend. Taking a hammer to that anvil gives you thunder. You can also seed fair whether cumulus clouds with silver Iodide and induce storm cumulonimbus clouds. Hence, the meteorology, the metal work, perhaps a bit of alchemy at work. Moreover, a poisoned sky/relationship grown toxic is implied. Finally, what better to smith than swords (as passion is replaced with sharp words) for a dueling couple. How could that metaphor be any better or clearer?

In stanza two, don't tell me that columns can't be toppled with proper hammers and chisels (they were hewed out with them in the first place). I could do without the temple I suppose, but I need the clock-tower for the time references.

In stanza three, I was avoiding using 'once quiescent', but I add that back for clarity. Them? Inhabiting them thar reefs of course!

I will work it some more, but check out my explanations and please re-read, thanks! Bring back the name of a cold chisel that can chip away at a column, would you...

Hi Chris,
One of the first things that I learned off my own back (nobody told me) was THE most painful lesson of all...if you have to explain your poetry, DON'T.
Blame the reader then re-write it.
Best,
Tectak

I don't always blame the reader, but explanations always aid your editors in helping one to re-work their piece. Therefore, my painless lesson is to explain and seek help getting the point, theme or metaphor across better. Cheers my mentor /Chris