Unplanned Maintenance edit 0.002 river,wjames

[tectak]

Dickie-bowed down my silent road,
staggered streetlights pooled the path.
Mosaic mirrors split each glow in haloed stars;
I knew them all, each a friend that I once had.

I did not see them after dawn,
nor in the dusk until somewhere
a sense of coming darkness brought
their  timely light into my room.

One hundred once were burning bright,
I counted them and knew their names;
but some burned brighter then went out
and gaps appeared where they had been.

The unseen plan must surely be
to wait until my road is black;
then after one long, lonely night
I will awake to blinding skies.

And all the friends whose light had died
will glow again, lined up to mark my final path,
each proud and piercing through the gloom;
ninety-nine, one hundred...one hundred and one.

tectak
2015

[RiverNotch]

Dicky-bowed down my silent road,
staggered streetlights pool the path. Nice alliteration on these first two lines. I have to admit, I got a bit shaken by the word "dicky-bowed". It's already a good word, but if there's a more American way to put it....Also, though the trochee at the start is cool, and however sharp the words in these lines are, the imagery these lines evoke is, at least for me, too light (as in, the Beatles track "Flying" sort of light) to need such treatment. The sharp words could be maintained, but the trochee just feels a bit awkward.
Mosaic mirrors split each glow in haloed stars;
I know them all, each a friend that I still have. This last line is a bit weak sound-wise, and these lines are too long compared to the rest: removes the clean punch of this stanza.

I do not see them after dawn, 
nor in the dusk until somewhere 'Somewhere' doesn't have the same stiff hit as the other end-words of this stanza (probably because it breaks from the meter).
a sense of coming darkness brings I would imagine that the dusk already brings a sense of coming darkness, being, well, the dusk.
their light into my room. However fitting the punch of the shorter line is here, it's still a foot short in an otherwise uniformly metered poem.

One hundred once were burning bright, I would go for a colon here, or a period, since these two lines are completely independent thoughts. And though 'one hundred' definitely has the right sound here, 'one thousand' would be a much cooler sight.
I counted them and knew their names; A period here would better evoke the different sense of time the succeeding lines present.
but some burned brighter then went out
and gaps appeared where they had been. This line feels a bit out of place, evoking rather redundantly the same image as the earlier.

I feel like I'm missing out on a good bit of poetical goodness in the preceding stanza. The first idea would be stronger if it took up a whole stanza (maybe elaborate on those names and colors?); the same goes for the second, with a more sinister sense of gloom being at least hinted at: though raging against the dying of the light is all the rage in today's interstellar society [Haha, wit!], I just can't imagine all of the lights dying so splendidly. I mean, I guess there's a hint of the poem's conclusion in that explosive image, but touching on the reverse would give that whole bit added senses of depth and mystique.

Somewhere a plan will surely be I don't like the surety of this line. Only a work on God would have this same sentiment with regards to the afterlife [the afterlight]. 
to wait until my road is black
then after one long, lonely night 
I will awake to blinding skies This should end with a period. The next stanza doesn't need to be the same sentence. Good wording, though.

The preceding stanza's a bit bland, and I feel that it could somehow be better bridged to the thought of the dying lights. The idea is there (and it's pretty good), but the crispness of the other stanzas isn't.

and all the friends whose light had died Better the beginning of a new sentence.
will glow again, and line to mark I don't like the phrase "line to mark". It feels redundant.
my final path, each proud and piercing The only feminine ending of the whole piece, and, ironically, it's the word "piercing".
in the gloom…where there will be one other star. Too long -- I don't think the poem should end on the dull and melancholic note a longer line connotes, especially with this image of another star. Splitting this line into two lines, of equal lengths to the rest, would, I think, be the best course of action.

tectak
2015 What kind of ending is "tectak / 2015"? [Sorry for bad joke.]


Overall, really, really beautiful poem. As I've already noted, the vibe I got the most from this is that of friends and whatnot dying, then visiting again in the afterlife, and although I can sense a bunch of other things in there too, I think my notes on making this focus more with those mortal elements would fit them just as well. Thanks for the good read -- excited for the better one!

[tectak]

Dicky-bowed down my silent road,
staggered streetlights pool the path. Nice alliteration on these first two lines. I have to admit, I got a bit shaken by the word "dicky-bowed". It's already a good word, but if there's a more American way to put it....Also, though the trochee at the start is cool, and however sharp the words in these lines are, the imagery these lines evoke is, at least for me, too light (as in, the Beatles track "Flying" sort of light) to need such treatment. The sharp words could be maintained, but the trochee just feels a bit awkward.
Mosaic mirrors split each glow in haloed stars;
I know them all, each a friend that I still have. This last line is a bit weak sound-wise, and these lines are too long compared to the rest: removes the clean punch of this stanza.

I do not see them after dawn, 
nor in the dusk until somewhere 'Somewhere' doesn't have the same stiff hit as the other end-words of this stanza (probably because it breaks from the meter).
a sense of coming darkness brings I would imagine that the dusk already brings a sense of coming darkness, being, well, the dusk.
their light into my room. However fitting the punch of the shorter line is here, it's still a foot short in an otherwise uniformly metered poem.

One hundred once were burning bright, I would go for a colon here, or a period, since these two lines are completely independent thoughts. And though 'one hundred' definitely has the right sound here, 'one thousand' would be a much cooler sight.
I counted them and knew their names; A period here would better evoke the different sense of time the succeeding lines present.
but some burned brighter then went out
and gaps appeared where they had been. This line feels a bit out of place, evoking rather redundantly the same image as the earlier.

I feel like I'm missing out on a good bit of poetical goodness in the preceding stanza. The first idea would be stronger if it took up a whole stanza (maybe elaborate on those names and colors?); the same goes for the second, with a more sinister sense of gloom being at least hinted at: though raging against the dying of the light is all the rage in today's interstellar society [Haha, wit!], I just can't imagine all of the lights dying so splendidly. I mean, I guess there's a hint of the poem's conclusion in that explosive image, but touching on the reverse would give that whole bit added senses of depth and mystique.

Somewhere a plan will surely be I don't like the surety of this line. Only a work on God would have this same sentiment with regards to the afterlife [the afterlight]. 
to wait until my road is black
then after one long, lonely night 
I will awake to blinding skies This should end with a period. The next stanza doesn't need to be the same sentence. Good wording, though.

The preceding stanza's a bit bland, and I feel that it could somehow be better bridged to the thought of the dying lights. The idea is there (and it's pretty good), but the crispness of the other stanzas isn't.

and all the friends whose light had died Better the beginning of a new sentence.
will glow again, and line to mark I don't like the phrase "line to mark". It feels redundant.
my final path, each proud and piercing The only feminine ending of the whole piece, and, ironically, it's the word "piercing".
in the gloom…where there will be one other star. Too long -- I don't think the poem should end on the dull and melancholic note a longer line connotes, especially with this image of another star. Splitting this line into two lines, of equal lengths to the rest, would, I think, be the best course of action.

tectak
2015 What kind of ending is "tectak / 2015"? [Sorry for bad joke.]


Overall, really, really beautiful poem. As I've already noted, the vibe I got the most from this is that of friends and whatnot dying, then visiting again in the afterlife, and although I can sense a bunch of other things in there too, I think my notes on making this focus more with those mortal elements would fit them just as well. Thanks for the good read -- excited for the better one!

Thanks River,
perceptive as always. This is one to simmer as there may well be too much "now" in it. I guess I would have been wiser using a pressure cooker and letting the steam out slowly.
Once its cooled a bit I'll take the lid off and see what's left.
Some of your queries may be entirely down to the pond...we have old street lights shaped like face down dickie (dicky?) bows, mirror mosaic reflectors...but not for a while.
The suggestion of the semicolon link is probably moot. "There once were one hundred, I counted them" Linked enough, surely
I will edit.
I eat all crit.
Thanks again,
tectak

[Tiger the Lion]

Hey Tectak. A nicely efficient piece whose central metaphor spans decades. I agree with River on this point:

"I just can't imagine all of the lights dying so splendidly. I mean, I guess there's a hint of the poem's conclusion in that explosive image, but touching on the reverse would give that whole bit added senses of depth and mystique."


I wonder if something anecdotal, almost parenthetical, might add to the reader's experience.

Eg. tell us how the first light went out when little Billy Bastard threw a rock at it and smashed its face...
or
tell us how the first went out when old Ms. Widow ploughed it with her car...

--These are not specific suggestions, of course, but I think a brief (likely allegorical) anecdote might pull more readers into your personal space. 

I could, of course be completely wrong.
Paul

[Leah S.]

I had no idea what "dicky-bowed" meant, but its placement in the sentence suggested it was a descriptive verb like 'swaggered'. Even after the explanation, I'm still not sure...some kind of bow-tie? Thing is, the poem is stunning, even with an incomprehensible first line..
I had no problem with how the lights went out, streetlights burn out in real life all the time, and sometimes do glow brighter for a second before they go out. I don't think you should tinker with this poem much, other than to find another word to describe the lights to open the poem.
I teared up reading it; it moved me the same way that the last part of Tennyson's 'Ulysses' does. Don't mess with it too much.

[tectak]

Hey Tectak. A nicely efficient piece whose central metaphor spans decades. I agree with River on this point:

"I just can't imagine all of the lights dying so splendidly. I mean, I guess there's a hint of the poem's conclusion in that explosive image, but touching on the reverse would give that whole bit added senses of depth and mystique."


I wonder if something anecdotal, almost parenthetical, might add to the reader's experience.

Eg. tell us how the first light went out when little Billy Bastard threw a rock at it and smashed its face...
or
tell us how the first went out when old Ms. Widow ploughed it with her car...

--These are not specific suggestions, of course, but I think a brief (likely allegorical) anecdote might pull more readers into your personal space. 
Thanks tiger,
I am worried by consensus....where do I say that all the lights went out at once?Or, perhaps more significantly, where did I say they didn't. It is an old one...the brightest burn out fastest. Yes?
Metaphors are bastards. They are born out wedlock and we soon forget their roots...I guess I was trying to say that "one by one" (cliche) our friends splutter out and die...it is probably not a simple metaphor which means just replace the bulb....must try harder.
Street lights were, for fifty years in the UK, shaped like dickie bows with curved underside lined with 1 inch square mirror reflectors...that bit is fact, the rest is poetry.
Best,
tectak

I could, of course be completely wrong.
Paul

---

I had no idea what "dicky-bowed" meant, but its placement in the sentence suggested it was a descriptive verb like 'swaggered'. Even after the explanation, I'm still not sure...some kind of bow-tie? Thing is, the poem is stunning, even with an incomprehensible first line..
I had no problem with how the lights went out, streetlights burn out in real life all the time, and sometimes do glow brighter for a second before they go out. I don't think you should tinker with this poem much, other than to find another word to describe the lights to open the poem.
I teared up reading it; it moved me the same way that the last part of Tennyson's 'Ulysses' does. Don't mess with it too much.

Thanks leah,
effect produced...result.
This street light thing will not be a problem to  brits over 60. You can still get these original lights at antique fairs, where they are snapped up.They lined hundreds of miles of urban and rural streets for fifty years...because of the shape of the reflector panels they looked like bow ties and cast a double cardioid illuminated area on the ground...again, reminiscent of the dickie bow tie shape.http://www.simoncornwell.com/lighting/install/wimbledon1/index1.htm
That is all.
Best,
tectak

[Wjames]

Dickie-bowed down my silent road, I had no idea what "Dickie-bowed" meant until reading your explanation.
staggered streetlights pooled the path.
Mosaic mirrors split each glow in haloed stars;
I knew them all, each a friend that I once had.

I did not see them after dawn,
nor in the dusk until somewhere
a sense of coming darkness brought
their  timely light into my room. You could cut "somewhere", you say where explicitly: in your room. 



One hundred once were burning bright,
I counted them and knew their names; "counted" doesn't seem like something you would to your "friends". It was also sort of implied when you said there was one hundred of them.
but some burned brighter then went out
and gaps appeared where they had been.

Somewhere a plan will surely be This line doesn't say very much. "Somewhere" and "surely" are basically filler, although it obviously sounds wrong without them.
to wait until my road is black You could put a period here. As it is now, it's a pretty damn complex plan.
then after one long, lonely night
I will awake to blinding skies

and all the friends whose light had died
will glow again, lined up to mark
my final path, each proud and piercing
in the gloom…where there will be one other star.

tectak
2015

An interesting piece, I think it's really great.

[tectak]

Dickie-bowed down my silent road, I had no idea what "Dickie-bowed" meant until reading your explanation.
staggered streetlights pooled the path.
Mosaic mirrors split each glow in haloed stars;
I knew them all, each a friend that I once had.

I did not see them after dawn,
nor in the dusk until somewhere
a sense of coming darkness brought
their  timely light into my room. You could cut "somewhere", you say where explicitly: in your room. 



One hundred once were burning bright,
I counted them and knew their names; "counted" doesn't seem like something you would to your "friends". It was also sort of implied when you said there was one hundred of them.
but some burned brighter then went out
and gaps appeared where they had been.

Somewhere a plan will surely be This line doesn't say very much. "Somewhere" and "surely" are basically filler, although it obviously sounds wrong without them.
to wait until my road is black You could put a period here. As it is now, it's a pretty damn complex plan.
then after one long, lonely night
I will awake to blinding skies

and all the friends whose light had died
will glow again, lined up to mark
my final path, each proud and piercing
in the gloom…where there will be one other star.

tectak
2015

An interesting piece, I think it's really great.

Thanks wj,
Hearse verse, too many wistful somewheres, you are correct. Only one will survive, the "somewhere a sense " is indicative of the Remote Controler, the light sensor, which turns on (and off) the street lights according to ambient lux levels rather than time. Counting living friends gets easier each year. If you want to party it can be challengingThe rest will be edited and credited.
Best,
tectak