Eight Movements

[Todd]

Hi Leanne,

This may turn into more of a discussion than an individual critique. There's a lot going on here and it's a bit challenging to take in in one large bite. I'll give it a try though. Let's start with the title:

Eight Movements

I go down weird paths here. I start by going five stages of grief, seven stages of man, seven deadly sins, and then I get to eight...what is eight. Each one of these sections is in a dramatically different style going with the occum's razor view I thought maybe you were isolating eight poetic movements (i.e., imagist, confessional, etc.). If that's the case, I may not be familiar with enough of them to place each section in its school. I had other ideas but settled on that one to start.

i.

The owl sat the pussycat on his knee
and said “little girl, won’t you come with me
to a wonderful candyland fantasy
where I’ll do as I please, for no-one shall see.”

So we start with something that should make us think of Lear's The Owl and the Pussycat. It has a bit more of a sinister feel to it though with the little girl and the candyland fantasy. The owl strikes you at worst a pedophile at best someone taking advantage of someone inexperienced. It could also deal with the speaker of the poem constructing a childish framework to deal with a horrific experience. I think this section is compelling, eerie and holds together. No nits from me.

ii.

Paint me inside your head
striped red
dangling kittenish on silken thread
tongue engorged, carcass bled

Again, scary images and the AAAA rhyme scheme gives it a juvenile younger sense to it all. Paint me inside your head feels slightly pornographic. It's like saying construct an image of me that you can accept don't actually see the real me. Since I'm already in the mindset since part i I see the stripes as whip marks the red as welts or blood. I really like L3 here. The me on L1 brings us closer from the story earlier to the speaker. Kittenish ties well with the pussycat. Silken gives a sensual sense but at the same time it's thread holding the speaker up. It's tenuous. Then you move to the final line and the scene shifts to something like a dead deer on a hook being bled out. These first two sections are disturbing and strong. This could of course be a metaphorical death of innocence--which is where I'm going.

iii.

caveat emptor

Here we see what appears to be the moral of the fable. Let the buyer beware. Or in this context, Be careful of the honeyed words of people that show an interest--it often ends badly. It's a nice shift from the earlier parts. It works for me.

iv.

More of a mini poem here (it's been a few months but a kyrielle? Notes will be under each stanza

You thought my fame would let you lie
upon a feather bed, not rise
for trivia like babies’ cries
or doubt that shut out half the sky.

Great line break on lie for the double meaning. I may be reading this wrong Leanne but I'm getting a shift of speaker...I feel like I'm with the owl now addressing the pussycat again. The owl is the light of fame and the pussycat is the moth ready to get singed when the reality doesn't meet the expectations. The feather bed is a good image for the imagined life of ease that awaited the pussycat. I'm in love with the refrain. I like it so much that I may want to see you interweave it into your ending, but let me work the content more to see if that would even make sense. You do a good job with the prepositions mixing it up each time. It's significant that it is half the sky. I'm taking this to be a comment on the naitivity of the pussycat. As Louise Gluck said in her poem Mock Orange a type of: " the low, humiliating premise of union" I think the "pussycat" sees her lover or at least the light of his fame. I think her side of the sky is the one missing. She is losing her identity in the new situation.

You stole from me that cold July.
Two minutes in between my thighs;
the embryo that would arise
was doubt that shut out half the sky.

I see a speaker change here again. While it could be the same speaker throughout it feels like the pussycat is beginning to vocalize regret and the vaneer of the partner is wearing thin. This stanza has some of the strongest lines in the poem.I love that it's that cold July. We already know what's been stolen. The embryo didn't bring closeness but doubt. This feels psychologically honest for the relationship you're building


And in the end, it passed me by,
that elder dream that turned my eyes
within; what kind of fool relies
on doubt that shuts out half the sky?

elder dream seems a bit odd (not bad just unexpected here). I think of something ancient or deep with the word and I'm not sure from my interpretation that it's the best choice. It's very possible I'm just not connecting properly with it. I love the break on eyes and than the addition of within on the next line. The speaker seems to recognize that the doubts they have been experiencing have been fed by the partner intentionally (that's how I took the fool statement and the refrain here).

The kited dragon cannot fly
when tethered; so by toothed surprise
she snaps and breaks the hated ties
to doubt, and soars to claim the sky.

Dragon is an interesting choice. It makes me revaluate the title. I'm thinking of a chinese festival now. Eight is a lucky number I think in that culture. Therefore maybe this is leading to ultimate escape for the speaker (which would be lucky). I'll see if the content bears it out. Kited is also good in it gives a sense of the youth again being exploited and held down (tethered). This could be the ending of the poem if the speaker was less experienced in their reflections...it's message could be I got away...but it's more complicated than that. I'm sure the "she snaps" can be taken two ways. One with the string of the image. One with an emotional outburst (really well done).

v.

There was shit on my shoe
and I licked it off
thinking it was toffee

Savouring taste and texture
and the only thing stopping it going down
was the bile rising to drown it

Remembering the times
I should have wiped you on the kerb
but licked you off
instead

Thank you for this part. Like I said earlier, a weaker more immature poem would have ended soaring in the sky. Someone who has lived and suffered realizes that victories are transitory and have their own setbacks. I don't want to mess up the format you are going for Leanne, but I would consider shortening this part to make it hit stronger. Here's what I think is the essense of the section (not an attempt at rewriting just a stripping away for you to think about):

There was shit on my shoe
and I licked it off
thinking it was toffee

Remembering the times
I should have wiped you on the kerb
but licked you off
instead

Just my initial thoughts on this part.

vi.

With saccharine smiles they mouth “artist”
into irrelevance, somewhere below the packages
for their tv dinners
They, with their Strawberry Shortcake imaginations
sugar flakes on instant replay
with clichés cut up to there

We leave them alone
But they scurry behind us
Begging for scraps to turn into foetid misconception
Longing to think we care enough
To be offended by their disregard

Never dreaming that their universe
Is far too small to register in our view
And we feel nothing
Not even contempt
For those who will never rise

For me, I wasn't able to come along with you on this section. The we was too hard for me to fit. I like S1 quite a bit but the entire thing feels a bit too disconnected to me. If I was sure how it connected I could offer suggestions maybe. Since I'm not I'll just give you the feedback of my initial read. Strawberry Shortcake imaginations is very cool though


vii.

Stationary days
As the organ plays
Alone

Sunlight set ablaze
Burning with clichés
Outgrown

Crippled elder phrase
Dreams of ways to raise
The tone

Wanders through the maze
Softly sings his praise
To stone

Sheep of silence graze
As the future stays
Unknown

This has a neat chanting feel to it. I love the cadence of it all. It definitely gives the feeling of a reaction to high-church liturgy. No nits. I especially love "Softly sings his praise to stone" and "Sheep of silence graze as the future strays" (great playing with the image there. I also like that you leave it on the word unknown. There is no consolation in this universe outside of the speaker themselves.


viii.

As I must die, let it be like Pericles. Let fever dreams and
gastric leakage drown the truth I do not want to know: that one
who can stand the higher dictates of distant gods
is utterly debased by the greatness of man.

Let the quiet delirium descend, that the daimon may
dance me puppetwise above the charnel streets; lift me clear of eternal
stagnation, to dine with Aristophanes, laughing sideways at the clouds.

Love the historic references. There's something about these longer lines that feel really good here to end the poem. I take back my earlier comment on half the sky (which though still good I prefer where it is without the weaving into this section). You have some great phrasing here. I love gastric leakage drowning the truth. I also love dancing puppetwise above the charnel streets, and laughing sideways at the clouds.

*This is absolutely a work in progress, so please don't hold back on any criticism -- it doesn't hang together properly yet and all suggestions will be most gratefully received*

I'm not sure how much help any of that was, but this feels very ambitious. Ambitious it turns out is fun to read--so, thanks for that.

Best,

Todd