Cicada summer - final edit

[tectak]

#2 Edit


At dawn they escape
seventeen years underground
climb up into light so bright
they can only cling helplessly.
Twigs and reeds sag under their weight,
pendulate, paused while their shells
darken and split, revealing
glittering black gargoyles with
red pinhead eyes. They crawl free
leaving husks like shucked gloves.
Thumb-sized wings pump,
stretch and set. Then
the din begins - before flying
they reproduce their pain:
agony of first light, struggle
to change, ruptured skin, 
birth shock, stretching wings -
all given voice until the air shakes
and shrieks like an unoiled machine.
Disguised inside that alien finale
coming and going like radio waves
you can hear a faint ecstatic choir
like the one in St. Augustine’s cathedral
that so frightened you as a child.



OK. Let's not get hung up on punctuation this is almost as good as you could get it without losing some of the charm having said that a little can go a long way towards clarity it is important.

So, L1-L3. Is it to be:
"At dawn they escape.
(After) seventeen years underground
they climb up in to light so bright...."
or:
"At dawn they escape (from)
seventeen years underground.
They climb up in to light so bright..."

You may say it matters not and I agree BUT whichever YOU choose make it clear. Why not?
It is the disconnect of L4 that is problematical...though not seriously. What characteristic of light, bright or otherwise, induces "helpless clinging."
Disputed imagery annoys me, too. After all, it is your poem, you know what you saw...but was what you saw adequately proscribed or described by light causing "helpless clinging"? The light I give you, it is without doubt causitive of something; temporary blindness, I would suggest. I will take a view here. I suspect that helpless clinging is NOT caused by light but by exhaustion. Yes? You see, it is  not until L9 that metamorphosis exposes eyes...veracity vortex, going down.
Now you have to take a hit. The whole idea, let's call it a concept rather than a conception, is WORTH spending some serious time on. I can feel your frustration with the way this cookie crumbles...but it does crumble. The whole damn thing breaks up into smaller and smaller chronological crumbs. I can only ask you to go back to it and make more, much more, of your cameo observations. Do not lose what could be a fine metaphor for the struggle of birth, struggle of life and the inevitability of death in teacup.
Good luck with it. It is all yours....what do I know about cicadas?

Best,
tectak







This is another I've worked on for so long I can't see it any more - any help would be appreciated.

#1 edit

Underground  
for seventeen years they waited;
this dawn they escape.
As the sky lightens they climb,
cling to tree trunks, branches, twigs;
reeds bend under their weight.
Their pallid skins darken
then split, to reveal black gargoyles
with red pinhead eyes. Crawling free,
they leave ghostly husks behind.
Thumb-sized wings pump up,
stretch and set. Then the din begins:
first painful light, struggle to climb,
ruptured skin, birth shock,
the urge to mate, do it again,
all given voice until the air shakes
and shrieks like an unoiled machine. Within
that alien orchestration you can hear
the faint mechanical chant of a choir –
the one in St. Augustine’s cathedral
that so frightened you as a child.




Underground  
for seventeen years
they grew and waited;
this dawn they escape.
As light strengthens
they climb high, cling
to tree trunks, branches, twigs;
reeds bend under their weight.
Their creamy skins darken,
split, reveal black gargoyles with
glassy red pinhead eyes. Crawling,
they leave their husks behind. Crinkled
thumb-sized wings pump up,
stretch and set. Then
the din begins: first painful light,
struggle to climb, torment of split skin,
birth shock, the urge to mate, do it again,
all given voice until the air shakes
and shrieks like an unoiled machine. Within
that alien orchestration you can hear
the faint mechanical chant of a choir –
the one in St. Augustine’s cathedral
that so terrified you as a child.