Water Jar

[brokenprism]

Not the moment when the old Dodge,
groaning up the access road,
falls silent in the clearing.

Not the moment when the black iron
wedges, lined up like teeth in the pink
cedar-flesh, take a bite.

Not the argument of hammers
burning off the fog with sparks,
not the fog, or the sparks,

or the voltage running up an arm
and down an arm, the arm
married to the eye, the eye to the

wedge, the wedge to the
cloven stump and turpentine
ascending with a shriek 

freed spirits rushing in the lungs
rushing in the lungs
rushing in the lungs, rush 

but the moment. When Felix.
Brushing a wisp. Of his gray
hair. Hands me. The water jar.

[nuclearwastemisshap]

I really really like this except for the last 3 lines. The punctuation threw me off. There seems to be no reason for it and the whole thing loses its flow. Breaking up sentences or verses with punctuation can have a dramatic effect but I didn't see how it works here. Otherwise I like it and it reminded me of being in the woods with my dad chopping and chainsawing wood.

[No1wouldriotforless]

Agreed. Maybe line breaks instead of punctuation near the end.

[ellajam]

Not the moment when the old Dodge,
groaning up the access road,
falls silent in the clearing.

Not the moment when the black iron
wedges, lined up like teeth in the pink
cedar-flesh, take a bite.

Not the argument of hammers
burning off the fog with sparks,
not the fog, or the sparks,

or the voltage running up an arm
and down an arm, the arm
married to the eye, the eye to the

wedge, the wedge to the
cloven stump and turpentine
ascending with a shriek 

freed spirits rushing in the lungs
rushing in the lungs
rushing in the lungs, rush 

but the moment. When Felix.
Brushing a wisp. Of his gray
hair. Hands me. The water jar.

Hi, bp, I really like this. It builds momentum beautifully. I think the punctuation did what you intended (with the exceotion of the squares, what are those? ). The only other way I can think of to slow it as much as you did would be to drop the words, and I don't know that that would be better.


I'm not sure about the rushing repetition, you already had me rushing, I think that actually slowed me down prematurely.

Thanks for the read, I enjoyed it.

.

[HalfOpenArms]

I'd like to echo what the above commenters have said: Beautiful poem, awkward punctuation!!!

As for the repetition of the "rushing" line, I like it. I vote that you keep it as is.

[crow]

I think you just have to rename this. "Kindness"? It seems like the "moment" in question is . . . the moment when it's less about what the narrator is doing than about what's being done to the narrator? More specifically, it's not about the moment the car stops, when the chainsaw hits the timber, when the chain gets jammed, the moment the ax-man lands accurate blows, or the chemical moment (didn't quite understand the "turpentine" part, probably because I'm not that great at cutting trees down . . .)

So. Felix means "happy."

Is the final line the moment where the narrator allows himself a drink? Of water?

Boy, I want one or two lines describing how wonderful that is . . .

[Truerenigma]

Not the moment when the old Dodge,
groaning up the access road,
falls silent in the clearing.

Not the moment when the black iron
wedges, lined up like teeth in the pink
cedar-flesh, take a bite.

Not the argument of hammers
burning off the fog with sparks,
not the fog, or the sparks,

or the voltage running up an arm
and down an arm, the arm
married to the eye, the eye to the

wedge, the wedge to the
cloven stump and turpentine
ascending with a shriek 

freed spirits rushing in the lungs
rushing in the lungs
rushing in the lungs, rush 

but the moment. When Felix.
Brushing a wisp. Of his gray
hair. Hands me. The water jar.

There's is a lot to like here. But what's with the squares?