05-21-2015, 02:42 AM
"The sun has lost; the gloss of day
has weathered into grieving gloom. (Ah, knowing what is coming the alliteration is already being overplayed, this feels like a forced rhyme, except it is alliteration)
Wind-whipped, the ravens scull the air;
a raucous ride on swell of storm. (Why "swell of storm" and not the swelling of the storm, or rather the "storm swells"? The way it is throws me out of the poem and it just feels awkward)
Against glass-grey, great clouds parade, (although Todd likes this it causes me to have to stop and figure out what this is suppose to mean. In the normal course of things wouldn't it be "glassy grey". Is this your attempt to practice "keening"? A practice from the Old Norse into the Old English where they would combine two words to create an image, such as "storm-road". Never was a fan. More of the same follows below)
plucked and unravelled from below
by fussing fingers' nervous tugs.
Until threadbare, the bladders burst
to stain the thin horizon's line.
Pollen smokes from rape fields flailed,
near swathed by hail. Too early
for the seed to form, grim farmers eye
the acres lost and sigh;
familiar though the sight may be,
this May Day makes a lasting memory."
___________________________________________________________
For me this was fatiguing. Having to climb through all of the alliteration (which I began to anticipate in the first read through) and word play. Maybe if it were not so obvious at first it would not have bother me so much later on where it does not seem quite so egregious, but there are four instances of alliteration in S1. Personally I think this pastoral (and yes I am aware of what is under this) is ruined by too much clever word play. Underneath all the fanciness is a good solid poem, but all this other ...stuff, kept distracting me from it. Of course it could just be me (as I know it often is from your viewpoint). I would offer more but I can't see the rape for the flailing fields! Or maybe the fields are flailing because they are rape?
Sorry not much of a critique,
Dale
has weathered into grieving gloom. (Ah, knowing what is coming the alliteration is already being overplayed, this feels like a forced rhyme, except it is alliteration)
Wind-whipped, the ravens scull the air;
a raucous ride on swell of storm. (Why "swell of storm" and not the swelling of the storm, or rather the "storm swells"? The way it is throws me out of the poem and it just feels awkward)
Against glass-grey, great clouds parade, (although Todd likes this it causes me to have to stop and figure out what this is suppose to mean. In the normal course of things wouldn't it be "glassy grey". Is this your attempt to practice "keening"? A practice from the Old Norse into the Old English where they would combine two words to create an image, such as "storm-road". Never was a fan. More of the same follows below)
plucked and unravelled from below
by fussing fingers' nervous tugs.
Until threadbare, the bladders burst
to stain the thin horizon's line.
Pollen smokes from rape fields flailed,
near swathed by hail. Too early
for the seed to form, grim farmers eye
the acres lost and sigh;
familiar though the sight may be,
this May Day makes a lasting memory."
___________________________________________________________
For me this was fatiguing. Having to climb through all of the alliteration (which I began to anticipate in the first read through) and word play. Maybe if it were not so obvious at first it would not have bother me so much later on where it does not seem quite so egregious, but there are four instances of alliteration in S1. Personally I think this pastoral (and yes I am aware of what is under this) is ruined by too much clever word play. Underneath all the fanciness is a good solid poem, but all this other ...stuff, kept distracting me from it. Of course it could just be me (as I know it often is from your viewpoint). I would offer more but I can't see the rape for the flailing fields! Or maybe the fields are flailing because they are rape?
Sorry not much of a critique,
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 goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.