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I don't remember what prompted me to break my own rule and offer explanation so early in the game, but look at the mischief it caused! That's pretty much the reason I don't do it -- people tend, through no fault of their own, to pay attention to the "Spark Notes" rather than drawing their own conclusions.
I would always use an article with "the Lethe"... Keats be buggered! I wouldn't say "drink from Thames" (well, not unless I wished severe gastric distress upon someone).
I do like your reading, thanks Edward. Good poetry should, in my opinion, be applicable to several situations as people are much the same throughout the world and throughout history.
I am desperately holding on to cave/Lethe/dark/underground as to me, those are the keys to the impetus for the poem. I realise that the situation has moved on and that new readers' experiences are different but I'm afraid I'm going to be steadfast on those points. As there's no real technical need to change, just different viewpoints (which are valid and welcome, but subject to being discarded as I've mentioned before), I find I must hold my own.
It could be worse
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I merely meant, that it would have been tempting to have cut it off there, although I accept it would have been something quite different from what you intended. I am sufficiently shallow that if I saw that it sounded slick, no matter what my original, deep plan had been, I should say "Poke that!" and call a halt.
Just as you say "Poke Keats!" But there are others, Francis Thompson eg (last line, last word, you don't have to read):
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-no-strange-land/
As to 'cave' and 'Lethe' in the poem, I am too polite to explain the connection I made, and then shocked myself at meaning I gave to 'Lethe'. Perhaps I was influenced by Sartre, the old woman-hater: "Le Diable, c'est vous!" (cheerfully following "L'enfer, c'est les autres" --now there, he had a point.)
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01-12-2012, 10:46 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-12-2012, 10:46 AM by Leanne.)
I read In Camera at university -- until I did, I'd been told by various lecturers that my writing was influenced by Sartre, but I had no idea what they were on about since I'd never read him! I find it difficult to argue with his opinion of other people
As to your interpretation... hmm... well, it's probably quite valid but you should still be ashamed.
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(01-12-2012, 10:46 AM)Leanne Wrote: I read In Camera at university -- until I did, I'd been told by various lecturers that my writing was influenced by Sartre, but I had no idea what they were on about since I'd never read him! I find it difficult to argue with his opinion of other people 
As to your interpretation... hmm... well, it's probably quite valid but you should still be ashamed.
I think that is bang out of order-- as I think a lot of things are. But I shall give Sartre another go: they are putting on 'Huis Clos' at the Donmar, so if I am able to get tickets, I shall see what they make of it. Why only the title is left in French, the Lord knows. It used to be 'Vicious Circle'.
Of course I am ashamed-- that is not the 'Condition humaine' but it is mine. So many things have acquired symbolic status. The poor old rose (acc to one American woman, her 'who-ha') has been ruined: 'O rose thou art sick!' nudge, nudge, wink wink. 'Gather ye rose-buds while ye may' and so on. I scarce dare leave my front door, where a few are still dangling, vying for the title of Last Rose of Summer. Life is v hard, you know.
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(01-12-2012, 08:30 AM)Leanne Wrote: Ray, thanks, thinking your comments over for now... but the last one seems odd to me because when I read it aloud, I don't stress "can" at all -- I read it as:
but i DON'T/ think i can BREATHE
or at a pinch, I can stretch it to iambs I guess, as long as there's an anapaest to start:
but i DON'T/ think I/ can BREATHE
then an anapaest for "underGROUND" to close on a strong stress.
To me it's the "breathe" that's important, maybe I should record it and see how it sounds.
Ha, yes, I see what confused me about the rhythm.
You can ignore the 'can' rhythm/stress thing, that was just me
trying to figure out how to speak/read your lines with a pleasing
rhythm. I found my real problem when you showed me how you
scanned it:
but I DON'T/ think I can BREATHE
underGROUND
I realized I pronounce 'underground' differently (and, looking
at a few dictionaries, find I'm in the minority).
I say: 'UN-de-grown', with the middle syllable almost swallowed
and with the end 'd' dropped.
But most people say: 'UN-der-GROUND' or even: 'un-de-GROUND'.
(Though some may drop the 'd'.)
So I was speaking it like this:
but I DON'T/ think I can BREATHE
UN-de-grown
That reading made the 'UN' on the second line quite jarring.
Oddly enough, if you break 'underground' into two words:
but I don't think I can breathe
under ground
I would pronounce it almost correctly. (Not that I'm suggesting
that, I'm just pointing out the oddity.)
Interesting. It's an example of one of the parts of a piece that's
transferred to readers when the writer delivers it with their own
voice, but that readers have to fill in for themselves when it comes
from the page.
P.S. I just asked my wife to say it and she uses your way. My sister,
on the phone this morning, used it my way. (I guess my sister and
I must belong to some local species of redneck.)  Anybody else
say it that way?
a brightly colored fungus that grows in bark inclusions
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Hey, brilliant woman, I love you <3
PS. If you can, try your hand at giving some of the others a bit of feedback. If you already have, thanks, can you do some more?
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(12-28-2011, 03:09 PM)Leanne Wrote: Revision 10/01/12
Sometimes I tilt my head to the side
and cross-eyed, try to imagine your view
through that close woven canvas you wear
as your gray-shadowed sleeve
I can’t find the itch that straddles my back,
though I seek it in your blank stare
and scratch with the barbs that ride
upon your tepid breath
I know the blood has been freed from my skin
by the footprints you leave with my shoes
as you waltz carefree into the cave
to drink from the Lethe once more
I stand before the mirror and you
try to suture my skin to my bloodied clothes,
not realising that it is not wholeness I desire,
but fragmented honesty
Sometimes I wonder if I’d be happier like this,
with my eyes pleasantly scaled and dark
and no questing blades to score my flesh
with lines not parallel like yours
but I don’t think I can breathe
underground
Love it.
Original version
Sometimes I tilt my head to the side
and cross-eyed, try to imagine your view
through that close woven canvas you wear
as your gray-shadowed sleeve
I can’t find the itch that straddles my back,
though I seek it with your blank stare
and scratch with the fangs that ride
upon your tepid breath
I know the blood has been freed from my skin
by the footprints you leave with my shoes
as you waltz carefree into the cave
to drink from the Lethe once more
I stand before the mirror and you, knives sheathed,
try to suture my skin to my bloodied clothes,
not realising that it is not wholeness I desire,
but fragmented honesty
Sometimes I wonder if I’d be happier like this,
with my eyes pleasantly scaled and dark
and no questing blades to score my flesh
with lines not parallel like yours
but I don’t think I can breathe
underground
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Really? Gosh, thanks
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(01-24-2012, 07:25 AM)Aish Wrote: Hey, brilliant woman, I love you <3
Yup, she is.
(01-07-2012, 08:48 AM)Leanne Wrote: It's quite true that if I read another "he soared too high and his wings caught on fire" reference I may just puke 
Write a poem about it...

(12-28-2011, 05:40 PM)Aish Wrote: Beautiful, fitful, uncomfortable.
I think I should read this a few more times, but I couldn't contain myself I was so overjoyed with your layers and animus tugging. I am still struck by the mythological constructs of Hypnos and reincarnation, Thanatos and Somnus, shroud of literal and figurative construct, all woven in with what smacks of a bruised psyche and internal personality conflicts. Beauty so often breeds pain, and you are quite masterful when it comes to layering your pieces with fragments of universal truths/the human condition and mythos.
I shall return, promise.
Holy crap. U perceived all that from the depths of the words? I am so at the top layer. I was just enjoying figuring out who is describing what and to whom from the words and now I know that I was barely seeing just 2 of the (how) many(?) dimensions of the poem.
Being poetically challenged is a worse handicap then I thought..
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(02-11-2012, 08:02 AM). . . . Wrote: (01-07-2012, 08:48 AM)Leanne Wrote: It's quite true that if I read another "he soared too high and his wings caught on fire" reference I may just puke 
Write a poem about it...

I should eh? But I won't pollute serious critique with it.
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Hello Leanne,
I have to admit that I had to read through your work a few times to be able to look up words that I did not fully understand. But once I did, it unearthed an image of our protagonist. What made you get rid of the knife? No evidence? My favorite part is the irony in the last line, after all it's a breath that keeps us together. Thanks for sharing the post!!
PAX
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Dearest Leanne,
we will be forever bumping your poems in the years to come. It is only because we miss you when you don't post anything new. Maybe write us a new one? you sweet, heroic goddess.
with love,
true
Pax, thanx for the bump
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My poems have fallen and they can't get up
Thanks for reading but we'll just have to see on the new stuff. Chaotic thoughts lead to too much esoterica, it seems.
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