The air is always flat this time of night,
flat and cold and quiet, like the lake outside
in wintertime. I slow my breathing down:
I don't want to break the ice.
When I go to bed, I never shut my light,
a sun lamp. Why does no one let me walk outside?
There, the twisted trunks of oak never shift,
unlike the shadows of my bed.
Like the shadows of my bed, the wilderness at night
is home to creatures fanged and clawed; but outside,
the horrors are familiar, real and steady
in their motives, while my bed-sheets
shelter only water.
I've broken through the ice before. I remember light,
cold moonlight, crashing through the winter ice outside,
filling my lungs, choking me, washing away my steady,
never failing faith. Then, I was pulled up
by the rooster's crow.
Second edit:
The air is always flat this time of night,
flat and cold and quiet like the lake outside
in wintertime. I slow my breathing down:
I don't want to break the ice.
When I sleep, I never turn off my light,
a sun lamp. Why does no one let me walk outside?
There, the twisted trunks of oak never shift,
unlike the shadows of my bed.
Like the shadows of my bed, the wilderness at night
is home to creatures fanged and clawed. But outside,
at least, the horrors are familiar, while my bed-sheets
shelter only water.
I've been swallowed whole before. I remember light,
cold moonlight, breaking through the winter ice outside,
filling my lungs, choking me. Then, I was pulled up
by the rooster's crow.
First edit:
Pavor Nocturnus
The air is always flat this time of night,
flat and cold and quiet, like the lake outside,
in wintertime. I slow my breathing down:
I don't want to break the ice.
When I sleep, I never turn off my light,
a sun lamp. Why does no one let me walk outside?
There, the twisted trunks of oak never shift,
unlike the shadows of my bed.
Like the shadows of my bed, the wilderness, at night,
is home to creatures fanged and clawed. But outside,
the horrors are familiar, real and steady
in their motives, while my bed-sheets
shelter only water.
I've been swallowed whole, before. I remember light,
cold moonlight, breaking through the winter ice outside,
filling my lungs, choking me, washing away my steady,
never failing faith. Then, I was pulled up
by the rooster's crow.
First draft:
Vespertine
The air is always flat this time of night,
flat and cold and quiet, like the lake outside,
in wintertime. My breaths, I slow down, I steady,
I keep soft: I don't want to break the ice
and drown, get swallowed whole.
When I sleep, I never turn off my room's light,
a sun lamp. Why does no one let me walk outside
at night? There, the twisted trunks of oak are steady
in their places: there, the darkness is sure,
unlike the shadow of my bed.
Like the shadow of my bed, the wilderness, at night,
is home to creatures fanged and clawed. But outside,
at least, the horrors are familiar, real and steady
in their motives, while my bed-sheets
shelter only water.
I've been swallowed whole, before. I remember light,
cold moonlight, breaking through the winter ice outside,
filling my lungs, choking me, washing away my steady,
never failing faith. Then, I was pulled up
by the rooster's crow.
I read this as being about someone who suffers from nightmares and has a fear of darkness and imagined terrors that darkness brings with it.
I thought this was quite well written generally, and your comparison of the real dangers that lurk outdoors at night, with the imagined dangers in the shadows of your bedroom works well, in my opinion.
The recurring nightmare of drowning , falling through thin ice into the claustrophobic darkness of the freezing waters below , getting swallowed by both, darkness and suffocating water, comes across nicely.
That said, for some reason, the line "When I sleep, I never turn off my room's light, a sun lamp." seems a bit.... odd... to me. I don't mean the content: I understand what you want to say.... perhaps it's HOW you say it in this line that troubles me and you may want to reconsider it.
Incidentally, though "Vespertine" has a better ring to it, it actually refers to the EVENING rather than to the NIGHT. I suspect what you are talking about would be better described by "Nocturnal".
That said, all in all, I enjoyed this dark read.... (no pun intended).
It's not meant to be precisely that -- the speaker is not so much afraid of the dark, as he is afraid of sleep.
I happen to like the construction of that sentence: "sun lamp" contrasts with its counterpart in the fourth stanza, "cold moonlight", and I think the innocent tone of the line subtly highlights the childish nature of the speaker's fear. I'll mull over your point, though.
And as for the title change, I heartily agree that it should be changed -- it's not that it refers to something else (the evening is the night), but it refers to that same thing in a different way ("evening" implies something less sinister and more luscious than the singular term "night"; so vespertine to, well, nocturnal), is what I think you were saying. Anyway, I'll change it, though maybe not to "Nocturnal", since it connotes something a bit too technical for the poem, and for now, I'll keep the current title on the post and thread, if only because I LOVE the sound and sensual feel of the word (VESPERTINE VESPERTINE VESPERTINE -- that, and Bjork, and because Eva Green played a character named Vesper once).
If you want something new for a title here are a few:
nightfall
dusk
eventide
nightfall
the days decline (mine)
shadow time (mine)
pitch-black
a stygian night
the murky twilight (mine)
Although my favorite would be "Night Terrors"
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Your line breaks do not seem natural and why the plethora of commas? Also your playing around with the syntax does not seem to accomplish whatever it is you want it to accomplish. Example:
"My breaths, I slow down, I steady, I keep soft" why not: I slow down and steady my breathing to keep it soft.
A slightly differently twist: "I don't want to break the ice and drown, get swallowed whole." Why does this need the further explanation of "getting swallowed whole?" It is simply extraneous and adds nothing to the line. Yes I know it appears later, but the connection is so tenuous as to be non-existent. Plus if you must have it at least throw a semi colon in there instead of the comma.
Does making this more difficult to read somehow make it better? It is true that sometimes one must be lead through seeming incoherency to see something new and unsuspected, however this is not one of those time. I suspect this could be told fairly straightforward and not loose a thing, except its current muddiness. Sorry, I see no rational to justify going outside of the norm, if I am wrong I will be happy to concede. But what have you brought to this discussion that is new and not simply a rehash of something that has been said many times before.
Well, as this is mild, I've probably already said to much. Well you can always ignore what you don't like.
Dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
The air is always flat this time of night,
flat and cold and quiet, like the lake outside,
in wintertime. My breaths, I slow down, I steady,
I keep soft: I don't want to break the ice -- Seems like too many I's.
and drown, get swallowed whole.
When I sleep, I never turn off my room's light,
a sun lamp. Why does no one let me walk outside
at night? There, the twisted trunks of oak are steady
in their places: there, the darkness is sure,
unlike the shadow of my bed.
Like the shadow of my bed, the wilderness, at night, -- Too many nights.
is home to creatures fanged and clawed. But outside,
at least, the horrors are familiar, real and steady
in their motives, while my bed-sheets
shelter only water.
I've been swallowed whole, before. I remember light,
cold moonlight, breaking through the winter ice outside,
filling my lungs, choking me, washing away my steady,
never failing faith. Then, I was pulled up
by the rooster's crow.
I would advise cleaning up the repetitions and avoiding abstractions. There seems to be some rhythm there. I don't know what Vespertine is though.
I like, this poem. There is a a lot Freudian content here with the "keep soft," "get swallowed," "bedsheets shelter water," "trunks of oak". It reads fast, moves along nicely. It feels a bit like a fantasy-dream sequence. No critique or criticism here.
first and foremost i enjoyed the read, the conflict of dark and light the fear of having to live in only one of them. the syntax needs a little work and some of the cliches could be swapped out. [swallowed whole] used twice. the last two lines intimate a need to sleep while fearful, thankful to woken by the rooster. though it may not be intended i se a sort of duality of many things at play, light and dark, which in turn can represent good and bad and many more opposites. not sure how to use them but it does feel you have an over abundance of comma in the poem.
The air is always flat this time of night,
flat and cold and quiet, like the lake outside,
in wintertime. My breaths, I slow down, I steady, i read this as breasts, with a lisp, this is what bad syntax does, it plays with the words in a bad way, it doesn't work. it's not in verse so why make it looks forced? a suggestion would be [I slow down my breath/ing, I steady] or something outside of yoda-speak.
I keep soft: I don't want to break the ice
and drown, get swallowed whole.
When I sleep, I never turn off my room's light, would [the light] seem better,
a sun lamp. Why does no one let me walk outside
at night? There, the twisted trunks of oak are steady
in their places: there, the darkness is sure, here it's unsure if your afraid to be awake or to sleep. though i do like the idea of darkness being sure.
unlike the shadow of my bed.
Like the shadow of my bed, the wilderness, at night, these two lines shouts that your scared of sleeping
is home to creatures fanged and clawed. But outside,
at least, the horrors are familiar, real and steady
in their motives, while my bed-sheets
shelter only water. nice conceptualisation of drowning while trying not to sleep
I've been swallowed whole, before. I remember light,
cold moonlight, breaking through the winter ice outside,
filling my lungs, choking me, washing away my steady,
never failing faith. Then, I was pulled up
by the rooster's crow. the ending also points out the turmoil faced in the sleeping hours. good image when added to pulled up
Full on revision: Title change, reduced lines, reworded a few bits. The most blatant examples of syntax weirdness I was presented with were in the first two stanzas, so most of the major changes were done there. I can't think of any more ways to reduce them commas at the moment, so there (the commas, I think, give stops to certain lines that really work, makes the lines sound staggered and afraid, especially in the later two stanzas, but I dunno). The line breaks, however, don't seem that unnatural to me, at least in the new edit -- care to elaborate?
I don't think that's too much, Erthona -- I'm not sure I can respond to your critique that it doesn't exactly bring anything new, since I'm not sure I'm well-read enough on this subject to know whether what I'm doing is new or not in the first place. If you were talking about my syntax weirdness, though, I suppose that's less a problem of this one work, and more a problem of my own in general; heck, even my prose and general conversation has crazy syntax, says a lot of my friends. Finally, I love the phrase "plethora of commas" -- poetry for fun idea?
EDIT: Quick note: title change still temporary. That's night--well, what Erthona suggested, but in Latin. I was gonna go for something Greek earlier, but after seeing what he suggested, I compromised.
Two new edits:
The earlier, basically an edit for brevity's sake. The latter, a (re)expansion of the poem -- I find the general lack of sense in "real and steady / in their motives" and "washing away my steady / never failing faith" as enhancing the dreamlike spirit of the poem. I also returned the inversion on the third line (although with a big clean up compared to the very first draft): I find putting "I slow down" at the end really slows down the rhythm there.
(04-25-2015, 02:23 AM)RiverNotch Wrote: Night Terrors
The air is always flat this time of night, --I think this line also falls a bit flat, perhaps intentionally so? There's a matter of fact feeling to it you wouldn't expect out of the first line of a poem called night terrors.
flat and cold and quiet, like the lake outside
in wintertime. My breathing, I slow down:
I don't want to break the ice.
When I go to bed, I never shut my light,
a sun lamp. Why does no one let me walk outside? --a sun lamp throws me off. I would say omit it.
There, the twisted trunks of oak never shift,
unlike the shadows of my bed. --the 'of' here is poignant, the contorting shadows from your bed haunt you, which is much better than shadows in your bed.
--I like the contrast/wordplay with unlike v like
Like the shadows of my bed, the wilderness at night
is home to creatures fanged and clawed; but outside,
the horrors are familiar, real and steady
in their motives, while my bed-sheets
shelter only water.
I've broken through the ice before. I remember light, --good to see the ice making a comeback here. I might even take it a step further, but it's interesting that your night terrors seem not to be dreaming of frightful things but instead are being afraid of dreaming. really nice twist
cold moonlight, crashing through the winter ice outside,
filling my lungs, choking me, washing away my steady,
never failing faith. Then, I was pulled up
by the rooster's crow. --really nice ending. I knew the plunge had to come somewhere in here.
I'm not quite sure how helpful that is, but it seems like you've got a pretty polished poem here, really nice work!
-"You’d better tell the Captain we’ve got to land as soon as we can. This woman has to be gotten to a hospital."
--"A hospital? What is it?"
-"It’s a big building with patients, but that’s not important right now."
