07-14-2014, 01:20 PM
(Edit #1 - thanks tec, ella, bena - my own comments below)
Mechanized Man
Mechanized Man, who dreads each day’s dead legs,
we pity you, who schemes to make time fast.
Worse, at day’s end you oddly dare to beg
of Fortune that this year won’t be your last.
Your body rests but tight wound mind refutes
this choice: define your time or be defined
too soon. You wake, a fool, believing truth
this lie: that life’s a race, you fell behind.
Instead, a wiser man will cherish how
each breath delights, each breath’s a life begun.
He’ll split a second slowly then, and now
divide – divided moments shine, undone.
Mechanized Man, who strains to count his lot,
must envy the wise man: his clock ticks not.
Mechanized Man (original)
Mechanized Man, who dreads each day’s rote tasks
Invents grand schemes to rapidly ratchet his gears,
Then, spent, at day’s death, on weary knee asks
Of Fortune this: the luck to live long years.
His body rests but mind tight wound attends
A measured choice so stark: define my time
Or life’s by time defined. He wakes, pretends
This truth’s a lie. He’ll keep each beat in line.
Alarms are silenced quick. Today allows
Another chance, another pace to run,
Just split a second slowly now, and now
Divide; divided moments shine undone.
Mechanized Man, who strains to count his lot,
Envies the one now dead: His clock ticks not.
First of all – thank you for the critique of the original.
I placed the theme of the sonnet in the dead center of the poem so it’s almost impossible to miss. It was there before but now clearer and yes, less inverted. Tec, the theme was not meant to be “life sucks then you die” but rather that if you don’t find value (beauty?) in each moment your life is wasted. I hope that message is much louder now.
Regarding your critique that poem and theme aren’t worth the number of lines I’ve used to explore – I’ll politely disagree. The Mechanized Man may be familiar to all of us but his hubris is not, as is often expounded, his sleepwalking (sleepwaking?) through life. I posit that a greater irony is his paradoxically wanting to rush through his days to slack his misery, then in the same breath wishing to live forever, all the while missing the trick to long life - don't lose a moment. Many of us are this man and worse, deny it. Thus, I thought 14 lines of thoughts on the subject not egregious. I think the point you made valid though – I had too much stuffing and not enough meat.
Great edits from all – a couple of those inversions were silly, and the second and third stanzas needed a complete rework
I hope I’ve given the reader some distance from the MM through the use of we/you as well as inserting the pity line. Also, I’ve added a foil to offer a little hope (and further distance) in an otherwise dark poem: the wiser man. I *hate* “wiser man” but can’t find another word to describe him, yet. "Slower man"? Open to suggestions.
Obviously, a poem about time could approach meter in many ways. In this rewrite I feel I rushed, not finding all (or any) of the weighty spondees or speedy dactyls and anapests available. For instance, in this edit I’ve lost something I loved: the speed with which (in the original) the second line and its final two anapests demanded, in the face of 12 syllables instead of 10. This worked so beautifully with the idea of the MM rushing through a long (12 beats) day. It’s gone now – but that type of meter meeting meaning is delicious to my ear. Maybe it comes back in the next rewrite. Worse i've got a pesky pyrrhic in the second foot of line 4 which, unless you force yourself to accent "that" makes the line read a little hitchy.
OK – a lot’s changed – I look forward to your comments.
(A little about me – I like traditional forms and actually think the inversions that strict meter often leads to can be quite pretty. The act of deciphering more complicated inversions the second time through a reading is an opportunity for me to ponder meaning, seek for more, and it is an enjoyable part of my poetry reading process (really!). I’m aware it’s thought little of in modern poetry. That’s fine with me.
Also, I’m obsessed with rhythm – I come from a musical family. The poetry I write (and most that I enjoy reading) strives to be read aloud with any cadence, syncopation, or metrical flair it may contain. I look for rhythm in free verse right from the start as well. If there’s no obvious metronome to be discovered I hope at least to find clever turns and rhythm meaningful to the moment in the poem.
My current circumstances are unfortunate - I'm to report to prison for a 3 1/3 to 10 year term on July 21. Thus, our workshopping will have to done this week. I hope I can spend some of my time away working on poetry. Mechanized Man is the first poem I've written in 22 years, and I'd forgotten how much I enjoy trying to work out the puzzle that is an unfinished idea and an unfinished poem. Cheers!)
Mechanized Man
Mechanized Man, who dreads each day’s dead legs,
we pity you, who schemes to make time fast.
Worse, at day’s end you oddly dare to beg
of Fortune that this year won’t be your last.
Your body rests but tight wound mind refutes
this choice: define your time or be defined
too soon. You wake, a fool, believing truth
this lie: that life’s a race, you fell behind.
Instead, a wiser man will cherish how
each breath delights, each breath’s a life begun.
He’ll split a second slowly then, and now
divide – divided moments shine, undone.
Mechanized Man, who strains to count his lot,
must envy the wise man: his clock ticks not.
Mechanized Man (original)
Mechanized Man, who dreads each day’s rote tasks
Invents grand schemes to rapidly ratchet his gears,
Then, spent, at day’s death, on weary knee asks
Of Fortune this: the luck to live long years.
His body rests but mind tight wound attends
A measured choice so stark: define my time
Or life’s by time defined. He wakes, pretends
This truth’s a lie. He’ll keep each beat in line.
Alarms are silenced quick. Today allows
Another chance, another pace to run,
Just split a second slowly now, and now
Divide; divided moments shine undone.
Mechanized Man, who strains to count his lot,
Envies the one now dead: His clock ticks not.
First of all – thank you for the critique of the original.
I placed the theme of the sonnet in the dead center of the poem so it’s almost impossible to miss. It was there before but now clearer and yes, less inverted. Tec, the theme was not meant to be “life sucks then you die” but rather that if you don’t find value (beauty?) in each moment your life is wasted. I hope that message is much louder now.
Regarding your critique that poem and theme aren’t worth the number of lines I’ve used to explore – I’ll politely disagree. The Mechanized Man may be familiar to all of us but his hubris is not, as is often expounded, his sleepwalking (sleepwaking?) through life. I posit that a greater irony is his paradoxically wanting to rush through his days to slack his misery, then in the same breath wishing to live forever, all the while missing the trick to long life - don't lose a moment. Many of us are this man and worse, deny it. Thus, I thought 14 lines of thoughts on the subject not egregious. I think the point you made valid though – I had too much stuffing and not enough meat.
Great edits from all – a couple of those inversions were silly, and the second and third stanzas needed a complete rework
I hope I’ve given the reader some distance from the MM through the use of we/you as well as inserting the pity line. Also, I’ve added a foil to offer a little hope (and further distance) in an otherwise dark poem: the wiser man. I *hate* “wiser man” but can’t find another word to describe him, yet. "Slower man"? Open to suggestions.
Obviously, a poem about time could approach meter in many ways. In this rewrite I feel I rushed, not finding all (or any) of the weighty spondees or speedy dactyls and anapests available. For instance, in this edit I’ve lost something I loved: the speed with which (in the original) the second line and its final two anapests demanded, in the face of 12 syllables instead of 10. This worked so beautifully with the idea of the MM rushing through a long (12 beats) day. It’s gone now – but that type of meter meeting meaning is delicious to my ear. Maybe it comes back in the next rewrite. Worse i've got a pesky pyrrhic in the second foot of line 4 which, unless you force yourself to accent "that" makes the line read a little hitchy.
OK – a lot’s changed – I look forward to your comments.
(A little about me – I like traditional forms and actually think the inversions that strict meter often leads to can be quite pretty. The act of deciphering more complicated inversions the second time through a reading is an opportunity for me to ponder meaning, seek for more, and it is an enjoyable part of my poetry reading process (really!). I’m aware it’s thought little of in modern poetry. That’s fine with me.
Also, I’m obsessed with rhythm – I come from a musical family. The poetry I write (and most that I enjoy reading) strives to be read aloud with any cadence, syncopation, or metrical flair it may contain. I look for rhythm in free verse right from the start as well. If there’s no obvious metronome to be discovered I hope at least to find clever turns and rhythm meaningful to the moment in the poem.
My current circumstances are unfortunate - I'm to report to prison for a 3 1/3 to 10 year term on July 21. Thus, our workshopping will have to done this week. I hope I can spend some of my time away working on poetry. Mechanized Man is the first poem I've written in 22 years, and I'd forgotten how much I enjoy trying to work out the puzzle that is an unfinished idea and an unfinished poem. Cheers!)