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Newton's Cradle
Terror is never as simple as the unseen clacking ball.
It is always the doll with a butcher’s knife,
crawling through ventilation shafts,
or the stranger that follows you home—
with each imperceptible connection
acting as a marker.
We scan the skies for flying monkeys,
or wander through corn fields
to the music of the moon, with its midnight waltz
of straw zombies--simple distractions
to protect us from the truth.
The witch cackle, cackles and you will believe
that you can never go home.
A fingerprint will smudge
cancer on an X-ray
The clatter of the metal duct
will cover the creak of tiny feet on hardwood
The funnel cloud swirls
like a swarm of restless bees.
The ball is already swinging.
Death comes first
then the dying.
~~~
The original poem is here. I got a great deal of good feedback that led to this revision. Thanks all!
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
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Newton's Cradle was superstition, or was it the scientific method? Both statements are equally true, and it is not math that counters superstition but science. However we are also, or only talking about the the five balls in a cradle that demonstrate conservation of momentum and energy, thus "clacking ball". Thus
"Terror is never as simple as the unseen clacking ball."
I am assuming you mean terror is never as simple as cause and effect? So terror is a series of difficult to see connections.
The ball is swinging. Using the swing of the ball to represent the many connection of terror, and also impending death.
The fallacy is that terror leads to death, does it? Maybe in the movies.
Todd, I feel you are trying to build a case here, but I do not find that case compelling.
If you are trying to imply that cause and effect in terror is built upon many steps and that these steps proceed incrementally I am also not convinced.
I also do not think it a good argument to try and define something by what it is not.
Regardless of how you are trying to say terror proceeds, in explaining it you do not get a free pass to just skip from talking about terror to a cryptic statement about death (death does not proceed dying, death is the end result of dying).
So for me the problem with this poem is that the sum of the parts do not equal a whole, leaving me empty. Invalidating the second law of thermodynamics 
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.
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Dale, Thank you. I appreciate the comments.I don't think any of us should get a free pass. I'll consider your comments as I revise.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
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(10-11-2013, 08:04 PM)Todd Wrote: Newton's Cradle
Terror is never as simple as the unseen clacking ball.
It is always the doll with a butcher’s knife, terrifying image, chucky?
crawling through ventilation shafts,
or the stranger that follows you home—
with each imperceptible connection
acting as a marker.
We scan the skies for flying monkeys, wizard of Oz reference?
or wander through corn fields
to the music of the moon, with its midnight waltz I enjoyed this line
of straw zombies--simple distractions What do you mean by straw zombies? The scarecrow with no brain?
to protect us from the truth.
The witch cackle, cackles and you will believe
that you can never go home. Another wizard of Oz reference?
A fingerprint will smudge
cancer on an X-ray I enjoyed these lines as well
The clatter of the metal duct
will cover the creak of tiny feet on hardwood I'm getting an image of that doll in the metal duct/ventilation shaft, and the hardwood below, so the tiny feet must be unsuspecting? of what's about to happen next, but do these tiny feet represent more? Because I'm not completely sure what you're alluding to with that. I think I'm a little off with these lines.
The funnel cloud swirls
like a swarm of restless bees. A funnel cloud swirling OF restless bees would be a true nightmare, especially if you're allergic. Imagine that
The ball is already swinging. It always is, isn't it
Death comes first
then the dying. Ouch, gives a good last statement to wrap this poem up
~~~
The original poem is here. I got a great deal of good feedback that led to this revision. Thanks all!
The imagery was good here, I was a bit unsure with some parts. I get a sense of where this poem is going, but I don't feel that I got a clear destination. Of course, that could be you leaving it open to interpretation which is good, but for the take home message, I didn't comprehend it in it's entirety. Thanks for the read
I never highlight my flaws or deficits
Because none of that will matter when death visits
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It takes a careful reading to see some the deeper meaning(s) of this poem. At first, it seems to be an indictment of the Newtonian, mechanistic world-view. That much is indicated by the title, as much as the first stanza, wherein terror is identified with fantasy-scenarios that are named in opposition to the simple clacking of the Newtonian billiard ball. (And a powerful proof our nightmares are against the notion that there is only a simple law of causality. For if all was reduced to the clacking of billiard balls, cause-and-effect, what gives with human beings being terrified over completely imagined scenarios?).
However, as the poem moves forward, things become more complex. With the second stanza, a new possibility seems suggested: it is the Newtonian reality that is ultimately true, and our fantasies of animate and intelligent horror/evil only serve as a cover for it. The idea that a doll might come to life and kill me, or that someone is stalking me, then, becomes a proxy for the being-towards-death that we each busy ourselves in our efforts to forget ("simple distractions to protect us from the truth.") But being-towards-death takes upon itself the connotation of living, now, in "Newton's Cradle," wherein we are both trapped and protected by the prison bars of a mechanistic universe, and human freedom itself is but an illusion.
This brings up some interesting question. From whence does the illusion spring? Can there be such a thing as deception or error in a causally-closed universe? Or does not the facticity of these things imply the reality of agency?
Accident is brought into the equation with "a fingerprint will smudge cancer on an x-ray." Thus the idea that our freedom gives us power to determine the future in a desirable direction is contested: our clumsy hands, when acting, only occlude from us a knowledge of what conspires against our lives.
The funnel cloud image seems very opaque and perhaps irrelevant, and I'm not sure, furthermore, if the metal duct line is compelling either.
I am not sure that the poem offers a clear answer to the questions that it arouses, but it seems to point in that direction by alluding to the ever-present reality of death, which impends upon us in spite of its absence from life. That the ball should already be swinging, in the penultimate image, seems to allude to the idea that our ability to discern causes is a form of artifice: like us, the cosmos that both shelters and ultimately destroys us is in a constant state of motion, and no fixed and final laws are ever sufficient to describe or circumscribe its motions and machinations.
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(10-11-2013, 08:04 PM)Todd Wrote: Newton's Cradle
Terror is never as simple as the unseen clacking ball.
It is always the doll with a butcher’s knife,
crawling through ventilation shafts,
or the stranger that follows you home—
with each imperceptible connection
acting as a marker.
We scan the skies for flying monkeys,
or wander through corn fields
to the music of the moon, with its midnight waltz
of straw zombies--simple distractions
to protect us from the truth.
The witch cackle, cackles and you will believe
that you can never go home.
A fingerprint will smudge
cancer on an X-ray
The clatter of the metal duct
will cover the creak of tiny feet on hardwood
The funnel cloud swirls
like a swarm of restless bees.
The ball is already swinging.
Death comes first
then the dying.
~~~
The original poem is here. I got a great deal of good feedback that led to this revision. Thanks all! Hi Todd,
I will lighten up. Too much analysis causes paralysis. I want to talk about, and crit, the poem.
I liked this before and I like it now. Why?
Easy. That's right. Easy. This read holds no shocks, shunts or shivers...it is poetry for it's own sake. S1 retains the homeopathic signature of terror...look, there is nothing there...and you could leave it at that...good for you that the body we thought was dead rises again in S2!
I can complain about the form. Compaction in to homogenity would help the piece enormously...but as I said the first time round, you and your brittle line breaks are here to stay.I will have to live with the staccatto stanzas even though I do not understand why you do it...or more to the point, why you leave it done.
The last couplet....it worries me but not a lot....no, I'm not on fluvoxamine... though the journey is worth more than the destination. As I began, so I will finish. A smooth ride which I enjoyed. I felt I was looking out of your window and I don't feel that often these days.
Best,
tectak
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Hello Todd,
I like your poem, but while reading I felt it ran out of steam around the middle point; for me that point comes when the poem turns into a "list" (from "The witch cackle..." on). It starts to feel a bit bloated; for me this feeling comes because some images I think are stronger than others. I feel that in such a "theme and variations"-poem, ideally, the ideas should be uniformly strong, or discarded.
Which images "work" is of course a subjective thing; for me the whole first verse was great, the second less gripping; I guess the images "flying monkeys" and "straw zombies" didn't really trigger that "primal fear" I get from the first verse. Maybe because they're not as iconic (the doll) or realistic (the stranger)?
Like I said, visually turning the poem in a list isn't a good idea, I think. It feels like you tick off the ideas that were left. The X-Ray and the funnel cloud worked best for me, but this is of course personal (so, maybe the trick is to find as many "universal" fear-images as possible, that are at the same time as original as possible?)
Hope this is of any worth to you!
All best,
Jan
(10-11-2013, 08:04 PM)Todd Wrote: Newton's Cradle
Terror is never as simple as the unseen clacking ball.
It is always the doll with a butcher’s knife,
crawling through ventilation shafts,
or the stranger that follows you home—
with each imperceptible connection
acting as a marker.
We scan the skies for flying monkeys,
or wander through corn fields
to the music of the moon, with its midnight waltz
of straw zombies--simple distractions
to protect us from the truth.
The witch cackle, cackles and you will believe
that you can never go home.
A fingerprint will smudge
cancer on an X-ray
The clatter of the metal duct
will cover the creak of tiny feet on hardwood
The funnel cloud swirls
like a swarm of restless bees.
The ball is already swinging.
Death comes first
then the dying.
~~~
The original poem is here. I got a great deal of good feedback that led to this revision. Thanks all!
Posts: 2,359
Threads: 230
Joined: Oct 2010
10-20-2013, 10:13 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-20-2013, 10:22 AM by Todd.)
I feel rude not getting back to all of you. Please accept my apologies I appreciate the time all of you spent with this poem.
Malu: Thank you for the comments. I think I'll be setting this one down a bit and rethinking some of the connections. The clarity aren't just you. I've got some work to do. I will consider all you have said as I look to revise (for me that usually means 3-6 months just to get the distance I need.
jdeirmend: You had a very close read to my intent, and even alluded to an additional direction I may expand on. I do appreciate your comments and thought process related to the poem. I will reread your thoughts when I'm ready to revise. Thank you for taking the time. It was much appreciated.
Tom: Thank you for the comments and sticking with this one. When I revise please help me not to drain the spark out of this one. It still needs a lot of work. Again, much appreciated.
Jan: I locked your thoughts on fear, and I'll take seriously your comments on running out of steam. All I can say is thank you for spending time with it, and thank you for giving me something else substantive to take to the revision. Much Appreciated.
Thank you again all. Critique is a gift and I appreciate it.
Best,
Todd
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
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Todd, I am just glad that you read my long-winded reprise, which was written as much for my own enjoyment as anything. Out of curiosity, why not relate to me in re: the additional direction that you may expand on? Even if you don't decide to integrate it into this poem, it may serve well to put it into words. This could be good to plant the seeds for another piece, or just for the pure intrinsic benefit of discussing the possible meanings of your poem.
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(10-20-2013, 07:59 PM)jdeirmend Wrote: Todd, I am just glad that you read my long-winded reprise, which was written as much for my own enjoyment as anything. Out of curiosity, why not relate to me in re: the additional direction that you may expand on? Even if you don't decide to integrate it into this poem, it may serve well to put it into words. This could be good to plant the seeds for another piece, or just for the pure intrinsic benefit of discussing the possible meanings of your poem.
I probably will. I was mostly writing responses so that everyone knew that I had read their comments and appreciated them. Mostly, I'm still getting my thoughts in order and am not ready to reply in that way yet. I think it would come across too scattered and incoherent. So rightly or wrongly, I decided to spare the thread at this time. Though, you are probably right about planting the seeds for a new poem. On your other point, I tend to avoid at this stage discussing meanings only because on further revisions I want to be sure the poem brought the reader to a certain point and not the comments in a thread. That said, hopefully I'll get closer on the next revision.
So, I probably will comment more later before the revision.
Thanks,
Todd
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
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Todd, makes perfect sense. It's not a literary theory board, after all. Looking forward to your next revision.
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(10-11-2013, 08:04 PM)Todd Wrote: Newton's Cradle
Terror is never as simple as the unseen clacking ball.
It is always the doll with a butcher’s knife,
crawling through ventilation shafts,
or the stranger that follows you home—
with each imperceptible connection
acting as a marker.
We scan the skies for flying monkeys,
or wander through corn fields
to the music of the moon, with its midnight waltz
of straw zombies--simple distractions
to protect us from the truth.
The witch cackle, cackles and you will believe
that you can never go home.
A fingerprint will smudge
cancer on an X-ray
The clatter of the metal duct
will cover the creak of tiny feet on hardwood
The funnel cloud swirls
like a swarm of restless bees.
The ball is already swinging.
Death comes first
then the dying.
~~~
The original poem is here. I got a great deal of good feedback that led to this revision. Thanks all!
Todd, I found this spectacular. The metaphor is clearly drawn, the narrator is justly oblivious to outside pretensions. If you put me in thumbscrews I would say erase "always" and "imperceptible" and leave the rest be.
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(10-11-2013, 08:04 PM)Todd Wrote: Newton's Cradle
Terror is never as simple as the unseen clacking ball.
It is always the doll with a butcher’s knife,
crawling through ventilation shafts,
or the stranger that follows you home—
with each imperceptible connection
acting as a marker.
We scan the skies for flying monkeys,
or wander through corn fields
to the music of the moon, with its midnight waltz
of straw zombies--simple distractions
to protect us from the truth.
The witch cackle, cackles and you will believe
that you can never go home.
A fingerprint will smudge
cancer on an X-ray
The clatter of the metal duct
will cover the creak of tiny feet on hardwood
The funnel cloud swirls
like a swarm of restless bees.
The ball is already swinging.
Death comes first
then the dying.
~~~
The original poem is here. I got a great deal of good feedback that led to this revision. Thanks all!
This is brilliant. The consensus is in, imperceptible must got. That is all.
I'm actually enjoying this one more than anything new I've read on a long while. Straw zombies is a real treat. Scarecrows would've run me off.
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Hi Milo & TE: Somehow I missed both of these comments. Thank you for weighing in. I'll consider the cuts, and appreciate the feedback.
Thank you both so much. Forgive me for being late with the reply.
Best,
Todd
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
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