I’m a old man adrift on a sea of night sweats, dreams where dodging faces surface in the waves, my body a waterlogged raft too stubborn to finally sink and let the deep devour it.
A tangle of wet sheets wait for me on waking. I groan and creak, a worm-eaten galleon rising from the bottom of sleep salt water dribbling down my chest.
Drowning in dread of another day in decline I hail the young who guard these coasts sea-borne saints who glance in my direction and turn away, indifferent to my senescent struggles.
First and Last Days
My eyes signal
that I’m still here
to angels who glance
and turn away
sometimes with pity,
sometimes with surprise.
First and Last Days
My childhood is back,
its vengeance is divine,
buzzing in my ears like flies.
But this time round I’m an orphan,
set adrift by too much time
on an ocean of night sweats
and dreams of misunderstood faces,
my body a waterlogged raft
too stubborn to sink
and let the nightmares devour it.
My eyes frantically signal
the young that I’m still a child
angels who glance
at my mortality and turn away
sometimes with pity,
sometimes with surprise.
A Little Prayer
“I’ll wait for Jesus, if he’ll wait for me” (graffiti)
(06-14-2023, 07:45 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: A Little Prayer “I’ll wait for Jesus, if he’ll wait for me” (graffiti)
I’m a broken old man adrift on a sea of night sweats …. Maybe enjamb with a break at ‘sea’ and misunderstood faces, my body a waterlogged raft …. Great image too stubborn to sink decently and let the deep devour me at last. …. I, my…don’t need the ‘me’. Also, feels stretched. Maybe ‘devour it’, which concludes the raft metaphor?
If it’s all the same to you, my life was an absurd one. Who knew absurdity could become so fragile? Now it creaks, exudes foul gases, …. ‘Gas’ rather than ‘foul gases’ should do it disgusts the young who see the pale rider behind my eyes … a nice swerve from the corporeal to the not so much and turn away, angels who glance towards the damned, sometimes with pity, sometimes with surprise. …nicely done
I know there’s a joke at the end of this empty math. I just hope I can laugh when the punchline comes. …. The last 2 lines are weaker than the rest of the poem. Can’t suggest anything at the moment, but
(06-14-2023, 07:45 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: A Little Prayer “I’ll wait for Jesus, if he’ll wait for me” (graffiti)
I am a broken old man, adrift on a sea of night sweats and misunderstood faces,not sure where this comes from my body a waterlogged raft too stubborn to sink decentlyimplied for me and let the deep devour me at last.
If it’s all the same to you, my life was an absurd one. Is there anything you can add here to flesh this out? Who knew absurdity could become so fragile? Now it creaks, exudes foul gases, disgusts the young who see the pale rider behind my eyes and turn away, angels really nice enjambment glancing towards the damned sometimes with pity, sometimes with surprise. my favorite lines
I know there’s a joke at the end of this empty math. I just hope I can laugh. when the punchline comes.
Hi TqB,
really enjoyed this. obviously I've made suggestions above. I feel I should explain the change to the first line. One, it's a strong opening and has a little resonance with 'man', but more importantly it reflects the tone of the poem. While there is a lot of self deprecation, there is an under current of the narrator having a strong sense of self and resilience and reflects that in a subtle way. Hope you find some useful.
Bryn
For some reason, I was reminded of Ray's poems on this site. He used to have little pictures and illustrations.
The above would be a nice little picture poem, with a raft theme. Maybe if the poem were shaped like a raft?
It's good, all TqB's poems are good, but maybe a slightly different representation?
A Little Prayer ................................... It doesn't read like a prayer (even if the ending is a plea.)
I’m a broken old man ........................ don't think you need this line (you have s2 after all.) adrift on a sea of night sweats and misunderstood faces, my body a waterlogged raft too stubborn to sink decently and let the deep devour me at last. .... Does this poem need this verse?
If it’s all the same to you, .................. Struggle moving from this line to the next one (but, regardless, this makes for a much better opening line.) my life was an absurd one. Who knew absurdity could become so fragile? Now it creaks, exudes foul gases, ..... maybe 'noxious' for foul? Better sonics, perhaps? disgusts the young who see the pale rider ...................... I think the 'pale rider' (and the rest of this section) is the poem taking a detour. Stick with the bodily decay and leave the rest alone. 'Damned' seems far too histrionic (and nowhere near as interesting as the 'waterlogged raft' image.) behind my eyes and turn away, angels who glance towards the damned, sometimes with pity, sometimes with surprise.
I know there’s a joke at the end of this empty math. ......... don't understand the use of 'math' here. I just hope I can laugh when the punchline comes.
(06-14-2023, 04:52 PM)busker Wrote: For some reason, I was reminded of Ray's poems on this site. He used to have little pictures and illustrations.
I'd dearly love to know how to insert pictures into a post. I've never been able to do so, and I've tried repeatedly, both using the "insert an image" from the toolbar, and creative attempts at copy and paste. Nothing works. Perhaps it's because I use a Mac. I'm baffled.
Busker, Bryn, and Knot,
Thanks for the feedback. A lot of good ideas. I know this one needs a lot of editing. I put everything I had into it, but that was yesterday. Today's a new day!
I always chop out the before and after Message Quotations and get to business.
A Little Prayer “I’ll wait for Jesus, if he’ll wait for me” (graffiti)
I’m a broken old man adrift on a sea of night sweats and misunderstood faces,
Are you or the speak(er) these things? broken, adrift, misunderstood. These adjectives are what's in the way. No need for a question mark on my behalf, whatever that means.
You are possibly a poem of other things. Other descriptive terms; or none.
my body a waterlogged raft too stubborn to sink decently and let the deep devour me at last.
The length of this stanza feels like Psychology.
If it’s all the same to you, my life was an absurd one. Who knew absurdity
There is play you could play with this Who word.
could become so fragile? Now it creaks, exudes foul gases, disgusts the young who see the pale rider behind my eyes
Do they see the pale rider? Disgust is a strong word for so little discouragement. Gases and creaks make the nights go boomboom.
and turn away, angels
Angels who turn away are angles
Notice how I used no punctuation there.
who glance towards the damned,
You mean towards the end of life.
sometimes with pity, sometimes with surprise.
I know there’s a joke at the end of this empty math. I just hope I can laugh
Why you laugh at your own thing? In this context here?
(06-15-2023, 06:30 AM)rowens Wrote: I always chop out the before and after Message Quotations and get to business.
A Little Prayer “I’ll wait for Jesus, if he’ll wait for me” (graffiti)
I’m a broken old man adrift on a sea of night sweats and misunderstood faces,
Are you or the speak(er) these things? broken, adrift, misunderstood. These adjectives are what's in the way. No need for a question mark on my behalf, whatever that means.
You are possibly a poem of other things. Other descriptive terms; or none.
my body a waterlogged raft too stubborn to sink decently and let the deep devour me at last.
The length of this stanza feels like Psychology.
If it’s all the same to you, my life was an absurd one. Who knew absurdity
There is play you could play with this Who word.
could become so fragile? Now it creaks, exudes foul gases, disgusts the young who see the pale rider behind my eyes
Do they see the pale rider? Disgust is a strong word for so little discouragement. Gases and creaks make the nights go boomboom.
and turn away, angels
Angels who turn away are angles
Notice how I used no punctuation there.
who glance towards the damned,
You mean towards the end of life.
sometimes with pity, sometimes with surprise.
I know there’s a joke at the end of this empty math. I just hope I can laugh
Why you laugh at your own thing? In this context here?
when the punchline comes.
Thanks Rowens,
I'd pretty much rewritten it in toto by the time I got to your comments.
(06-14-2023, 07:45 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: First and Last Days
My eyes signal that I’m still here to angels who glance and turn away sometimes with pity, sometimes with surprise.
First and Last Days
My childhood is back,
its vengeance is divine,
buzzing in my ears like flies.
But this time round I’m an orphan,
set adrift by too much time
on an ocean of night sweats
and dreams of misunderstood faces,
my body a waterlogged raft
too stubborn to sink
and let the nightmares devour it.
My eyes frantically signal
the young that I’m still a child
angels who glance
at my mortality and turn away
sometimes with pity,
sometimes with surprise.
A Little Prayer
“I’ll wait for Jesus, if he’ll wait for me” (graffiti)
I’m a broken old man
adrift on a sea of night sweats
and misunderstood faces,
my body a waterlogged raft
too stubborn to sink decently
and let the deep devour me at last.
If it’s all the same to you,
my life was an absurd one.
Who knew absurdity
could become so fragile?
Now it creaks, exudes foul gases,
disgusts the young
who see the pale rider
behind my eyes
and turn away, angels
who glance towards the damned,
sometimes with pity,
sometimes with surprise.
I know there’s a joke
at the end of this empty math.
I just hope I can laugh
when the punchline comes.
Hi TqB,
This does seem to be the essence of the narrator's vision. But i wonder how my interpretation is influenced by previous versions. I think the value of the differences between the versions is better measured in style and I don't mean superficially but more lyrical vs narrative. That, I think, is something for you to decide.
bryn
06-21-2023, 07:36 AM (This post was last modified: 06-21-2023, 07:42 AM by TranquillityBase.)
(06-19-2023, 10:54 AM)brynmawr1 Wrote: Hi TqB,
This does seem to be the essence of the narrator's vision. But i wonder how my interpretation is influenced by previous versions. I think the value of the differences between the versions is better measured in style and I don't mean superficially but more lyrical vs narrative. That, I think, is something for you to decide.
bryn
Bryn, Thanks for the read and comments. This one is giving me trouble. TqB
(06-19-2023, 10:23 PM)busker Wrote: For what it’s worth, the original was the real deal
Thanks Busker,
I've retrieved the original and am going to give it another going over. The first part of the poem just seemed too laborious in the days after I initially wrote it. Re-reading it now, I see possibilities in it. I kept cutting because the lines about the angels' glance were the only ones that pleased me any longer.
(If not a poem in itself, then certainly the end of one? )
.
Best, Knot
.
Knot,
Thanks for revisiting. It would make a fine ending had I not galloped off in another direction. Anyway, I've tweaked the original to follow my first inspiration, which was the night sweats, a miserable visitation brought on, I'm told, by a medication.
I think this version, overwritten as it is, says what I set out to describe in the first place.
)