The Onion

[tomoffing]

Revision 1

For Seamus Heaney

I lean, palms pressed upon cool marble,
over a book of your recipes
as dappled light filters to me
from leaves camouflaging the back field.

Dog-eared, well-thumbed,
inclined agin a rolling pin,
its precise phrasing instructs me
to peel and slice an onion.

Dropping the brown bulb
to the board, I'm awakened,
immediately, by the dead knock
of its weight on the wood.

I nick and strip its papery skin,
center, then split into two pale discs,
like morning suns.
Eclipsing one, I begin to dice.

My dull blade chaws and stutters
through thick rotations, tearing layers
into one another and releasing
a keen earthy tang

that confronts and quickens-
then blurs my senses;
a concentrative furrowing
that needles the very middle of the mind.

But the sting subsides
as the diced flesh pops, spits
and sizzles in smoking oil,
simmering to golden translucent clarity,

liberating a sweet-savoury aroma
that stimulates a deeply satisfying
insatiable hunger to understand something
so much simpler and yet more accomplished than I.


Original
Light filters to me through leaves
camouflaging the back field
as I lean, palms pressed upon cool marble,
over a spine-broken book of your recipes;

dog-eared, well-thumbed,
inclined agin a rolling pin,
it instructs me
to peel and slice an onion.

Clasping the gleaming orb
worked from earth, my elbow yields
to density, then rebounds
from the board's wooden knell.

I nick and strip it's sere brown skin,
center and split to reveal
two pale discs of morning sun
and eclipsing one, begin to slice.

My dull blade chaws and stutters
through thick rotations, tearing layers
into one another and releasing
a keen earthy tang

that confronts and quickens
then blurs the senses
with concentrated tears; a furrowing
that needles the very middle of the mind.

But the sting is salved
when I scrape the grey mulch
into smoking oil and it spits and sizzles,
simmering to golden translucent clarity,

liberating a sweet-savoury aroma
that stimulates a deeply satisfying
insatiable hunger to understand something
so much simpler and yet more accomplished than I.

[tectak]

Light filters to me through leaves
camouflaging the back field Awkward syntax...partly due to overwordiness.
as I lean, palms pressed upon cool marble, "As" is a non-dependant filler. If you were not leaning against cool marble would the other conditions vanish? Drop the as. Period after field. Capital "I", new sentence. Period after recipes.
over a spine-broken book of your recipes; Over over-over modified.

dog-eared, well-thumbed, Capital D on dog
inclined agin a rolling pin, Like agin, but not a lot
it instructs me
to peel and slice an onion. You cannot be serious! This is the end of the first sentence. Punctuate to clarity

Clasping the gleaming orb Faux-poetic, as someone on this site will agree
worked from earth, my elbow yields
to density, then rebounds What this mean?
from the board's wooden knell. You are off on a ship afloat in alphabet soup. board's wooden knell means nothing to me. Help

I nick and strip it's sere brown skin, Again, over-modified
center and split to reveal Read and repent.It makes no sense
two pale discs of morning sun
and eclipsing one, begin to slice. Would be nice if clearly expressed

My dull blade chaws and stutters
through thick rotations, tearing layers
into one another and releasing
a keen earthy tang

that confronts and quickens
then blurs the senses
with concentrated tears; a furrowing
that needles the very middle of the mind.

But the sting is salved
when I scrape the grey mulch What? Enough
into smoking oil and it spits and sizzles,
simmering to golden translucent clarity,

liberating a sweet-savoury aroma
that stimulates a deeply satisfying
insatiable hunger to understand something
so much simpler and yet more accomplished than I.

...needs work...but doesn't everything.
Workshop it.
Best,
tectak

[ellajam]

Hi, I really enjoyed this one, so much said here. Here are some notes.

Light filters to me through leaves
camouflaging the back field
as I lean, palms pressed upon cool marble, Marble brought me to the kitchen, the next line confirmed it, nice.
over a spine-broken book of your recipes;

dog-eared, well-thumbed,
inclined agin a rolling pin, I'd prefer "against".
it instructs me
to peel and slice an onion.

Clasping the gleaming orb Too soon, I thought Where's the dull skin?".
worked from earth, my elbow yields
to density, then rebounds
from the board's wooden knell.

I nick and strip it's sere brown skin, Well done here, love the eclipse.
center and split to reveal
two pale discs of morning sun
and eclipsing one, begin to slice.

My dull blade chaws and stutters
through thick rotations, tearing layers I wondered why you didn't find the knife sharpener in a well used kitchen. Now I don't know if you are in someone else's kitchen as I thought or if you just have their cookbook.
into one another and releasing
a keen earthy tang

that confronts and quickens
then blurs the senses I like that it blurs all senses, but not a fan of "concentrated".
with concentrated tears; a furrowing
that needles the very middle of the mind.

But the sting is salved
when I scrape the grey mulch Grey? I'm confused.
into smoking oil and it spits and sizzles,
simmering to golden translucent clarity, I like the move to clarity.

liberating a sweet-savoury aroma
that stimulates a deeply satisfying
insatiable hunger to understand something
so much simpler and yet more accomplished than I. Beautiful last line.

[justcloudy]

This is not feedback (don't get angry mods!) but Tom I was really hoping this would be a poem about The Onion. ;D

[tomoffing]

Thanks for the crit tec,

If you have a chance could you help me out on my questions/comments below to aid the revision and editing?

Light filters to me through leaves
camouflaging the back field Awkward syntax...partly due to overwordiness.
as I lean, palms pressed upon cool marble, "As" is a non-dependant filler. If you were not leaning against cool marble would the other conditions vanish? Drop the as. Period after field. Capital "I", new sentence. Period after recipes.
over a spine-broken book of your recipes; Over over-over modified. are you referring to over-modification of the verse, or this line specifically?

Point taken and understood re the "as" dependency too btw

dog-eared, well-thumbed, Capital D on dog
inclined agin a rolling pin, Like agin, but not a lot
it instructs me
to peel and slice an onion. You cannot be serious! This is the end of the first sentence. Punctuate to clarity


Clasping the gleaming orb Faux-poetic, as someone on this site will agree granted, this is horrific
worked from earth, my elbow yields
to density, then rebounds What this mean?
from the board's wooden knell. You are off on a ship afloat in alphabet soup. board's wooden knell means nothing to me. Help

This stanza is trying to convey the action of dropping the onion's weight onto the chopping board. Would a more deliberate description of the onion itself in line 1 frame this better? or are the actions themselves confusing?


I nick and strip it's sere brown skin, Again, over-modified
center and split to reveal Read and repent.It makes no sense i cant see the over mod here? How would you more simply present the actions involved in slicing an onion? (im not being impetuous, just trying to understand
two pale discs of morning sun
and eclipsing one, begin to slice. Would be nice if clearly expressed

My dull blade chaws and stutters
through thick rotations, tearing layers
into one another and releasing
a keen earthy tang

that confronts and quickens
then blurs the senses
with concentrated tears; a furrowing
that needles the very middle of the mind.

But the sting is salved
when I scrape the grey mulch What? Enough
into smoking oil and it spits and sizzles,
simmering to golden translucent clarity,

liberating a sweet-savoury aroma
that stimulates a deeply satisfying
insatiable hunger to understand something
so much simpler and yet more accomplished than I.

...needs work...but doesn't everything.
Workshop it.
Best,
tectak

thanks again mate, t

---

This is not feedback (don't get angry mods!) but Tom I was really hoping this would be a poem about The Onion. ;D

i wish cloudy, not sharp enough yet for that kind of subject matter.
Funny you say that though, I was reminded of this classic onion effort yesterday.
beckett blanket

[tectak]

Thanks for the crit tec,

If you have a chance could you help me out on my questions/comments below to aid the revision and editing?

Light filters to me through leaves
camouflaging the back field Awkward syntax...partly due to overwordiness.
as I lean, palms pressed upon cool marble, "As" is a non-dependant filler. If you were not leaning against cool marble would the other conditions vanish? Drop the as. Period after field. Capital "I", new sentence. Period after recipes.
over a spine-broken book of your recipes; Over over-over modified. are you referring to over-modification of the verse, or this line specifically? I was being a clever arse...the "spine-broken" is too strong to be inconsequential....yet it is

Point taken and understood re the "as" dependency too btw

dog-eared, well-thumbed, Capital D on dog
inclined agin a rolling pin, Like agin, but not a lot
it instructs me
to peel and slice an onion. You cannot be serious! This is the end of the first sentence. Punctuate to clarity


Clasping the gleaming orb Faux-poetic, as someone on this site will agree granted, this is horrific
worked from earth, my elbow yields
to density, then rebounds What this mean?
from the board's wooden knell. You are off on a ship afloat in alphabet soup. board's wooden knell means nothing to me. Help

This stanza is trying to convey the action of dropping the onion's weight onto the chopping board. Would a more deliberate description of the onion itself in line 1 frame this better? or are the actions themselves confusing? Ask a question. Q)How do I drop an onion on to a chopping board?
A)Clasp the gleaming earth born orb, once excavated, and with both elbows, carefully yield to its volume/unit weight ratio, allowing said globe to deform, in accordance with the coefficient of restitution betwixt board and onion, in such a way as to cause the said board to resonate in a bell-like fashion. Alternatively, place the onion on the board.



I nick and strip it's sere brown skin, Again, over-modified
center and split to reveal Read and repent.It makes no sense i cant see the over mod here? How would you more simply present the actions involved in slicing an onion? (im not being impetuous, just trying to understand Slice onion through middle. Avoid nickstripcentresplit. Perhaps I should have said over-complicated....but sere brown?
two pale discs of morning sun
and eclipsing one, begin to slice. Would be nice if clearly expressed

My dull blade chaws and stutters
through thick rotations, tearing layers
into one another and releasing
a keen earthy tang

that confronts and quickens
then blurs the senses
with concentrated tears; a furrowing
that needles the very middle of the mind.

But the sting is salved
when I scrape the grey mulch What? Enough
into smoking oil and it spits and sizzles,
simmering to golden translucent clarity,

liberating a sweet-savoury aroma
that stimulates a deeply satisfying
insatiable hunger to understand something
so much simpler and yet more accomplished than I.

...needs work...but doesn't everything.
Workshop it.
Best,
tectak

thanks again mate, t I was an engineer...then a poet(?)..."keep it simple, stupid" was a regular method-statement cryptic.....er, when I was an engineerBest,
tectak

---

This is not feedback (don't get angry mods!) but Tom I was really hoping this would be a poem about The Onion. ;D

i wish cloudy, not sharp enough yet for that kind of subject matter.
Funny you say that though, I was reminded of this classic onion effort yesterday.
beckett blanket

[crow]

tomoffing,

tectak did a tremendous job, here. I second everything in those edits, and am going to add a few points, but mine are mostly overarching. That said, I wanted to chime in on one micro edit:

You wrote:
I nick and strip it's sere brown skin,

There were edits, then you asked, "how would you more simply present the actions involved in slicing an onion?"

Tectak answered, "Slice onion through middle. Avoid nickstripcentresplit. Perhaps I should have said over-complicated....but sere brown?"

I'm going to say something very similar, if not identical: "sere" isn't a word. I mean, it is, and certain poets and pedants know it, but it's so far outside the modern lexicon that it might as well not exist. What you're trying to say is "I strip back the dry outer layer," right? So, find a way to express that such that we don't need to haul out reference libraries.

Now, my macro is, (besides noting that baseball is a dreadfully aggressive miscue early on), who cares?

Let me say that in a way, as best I can, that isn't baldly hostile: If this is a poem about cutting up an onion, you'd better do a better job bringing me in.

For instance, the choice to say "blurs the senses" instead of "blurs my senses" is an aggressive way to distance the reader and narrator from the dicing of the onion. I want a stronger way into the action, not out of it.

[ralex003]

Light filters to me through leaves
camouflaging the back field
as I lean, palms pressed upon cool marble,
over a spine-broken book of your recipes;

dog-eared, well-thumbed,
inclined agin a rolling pin, Is there a typo in this line?
it instructs me
to peel and slice an onion.

Clasping the gleaming orb
worked from earth, my elbow yields
to density, then rebounds
from the board's wooden knell.

I nick and strip it's sere brown skin,
center and split to reveal
two pale discs of morning sun
and eclipsing one, begin to slice.

My dull blade chaws and stutters
through thick rotations, tearing layers
into one another and releasing
a keen earthy tang

that confronts and quickens
then blurs the senses
with concentrated tears; a furrowing
that needles the very middle of the mind. Nice way to expand on the way onions make our eyes water. You really flesh this out. This poem has layers like an onion.

But the sting is salved
when I scrape the grey mulch
into smoking oil and it spits and sizzles,
simmering to golden translucent clarity, Mouthwatering, sensual imagery. Nothing negative for me to say here.

liberating a sweet-savoury aroma
that stimulates a deeply satisfying
insatiable hunger to understand something
so much simpler and yet more accomplished than I. This makes me think about how simple and onion is and yet how layered it is. If you think about it, aren't we like onions with many layers to our personalities? What a great idea.

Great poem about something as simple as peeling an onion. I like that your topic is narrowed down from following a recipe to performing a specific step in that recipe. I'm a novice poet and have been working with this in my poetry. I just love this focus.

[AnywherebutHere]

Light filters to me through leaves
camouflaging the back fieldI am not sure how this description fits well with the whole slicing of the onion, I had to read it twice to understand it, It seems like filter description to me
as I lean, palms pressed upon cool marble, I think you can do without palms pressed upon cool marble, and go straight to the next line, or add as I lean meticulously over..." or another descriptive word, I don't think you need a whole phrase.
over a spine-broken book of your recipes;

dog-eared, well-thumbed,
inclined agin a rolling pin,
it instructs me
to peel and slice an onion.

Clasping the gleaming orbothers have also pointed this out, this line is trying to hard to be poetic and mysterious, I don't feel like it goes well with the whole vibe of the poem.
worked from earth, my elbow yields
to density, then rebounds
from the board's wooden knell.

I nick and strip it's sere brown skin,
center and split to reveal
two pale discs of morning sun
and eclipsing one, begin to slice.What I see from this stanza is that the onion has split, before you even slice. That is the imagery I got out of this.

My dull blade chaws and stutters I don't think a blade would chaw or stutter
through thick rotations, tearing layers
into one another and releasing
a keen earthy tang

that confronts and quickens
then blurs the senses
with concentrated tears; a furrowing
that needles the very middle of the mind. The concentrating tears I feel does not make sense, or the last line. Your tears can "overflow" or be "uncontrollable" when cutting and onion, maybe consider that when trying to get the feeling of really cutting an onion which most people have done.

But the sting is salved
when I scrape the grey mulch
into smoking oil and it spits and sizzles,
simmering to golden translucent clarity, I feel you can end this with a sentence. I do like the imagery in this however instead of "and it spits" I will suggest "that spits and sizzles"

liberating a sweet-savoury aroma
that stimulates a deeply satisfying
insatiable hunger to understand something
so much simpler and yet more accomplished than I.

I thought overall the poem was good, just needs a bit more work on connecting all the images together so they flow without having to think too hard.

[crow]

Tom--sorry for the confusion. Here's a quick edit. I'll be more comprehensive soon.

The Onion

Revision 1

I lean, palms pressed upon cool marble,
over a book of your recipes
as dappled light filters to me
from leaves camouflaging the back field.
--the key word is "your"
--"back field" is hard to figure . . .

Dog-eared, well-thumbed,
inclined agin a rolling pin,
its precise phrasing instructs me
to peel and slice an onion.
--consider "to 'peel and slice an onion.'"
--these aren't instructions most recipes would give. They'd give the gauge of the chop--julienned, diced, minced--but I think you're cool to leave as is

Dropping the brown bulb
to the board, I'm awakened,
immediately, by the dead knock
of its weight on the wood.
--important! wood or marble?

I nick and strip its papery skin,
center, then split into two pale discs,
like morning suns.
Eclipsing one, I begin to dice.
--pretty. there's an ambiguity as to whether "its" or "I" is being split into two pale discs. I like it.

My dull blade chaws and stutters
through thick rotations, tearing layers
into one another and releasing
a keen earthy tang
--"a keen earthy tang" is not how I experience the sharp, acrid sulfur of a cut onion

that confronts and quickens-
then blurs my senses;
--you want two hyphs to make the dash

a concentrative furrowing
--concentrative isn't a word, so I take it to mean concentric-ative

that needles the very middle of the mind.
--I really want "my mind" vs "the mind"

But the sting subsides
as the diced flesh pops, spits
--I'd like the Oxford comma after spits
and sizzles in smoking oil,
simmering to golden translucent clarity,
--"clarity" is, somewhat ironically, a muddy image

liberating a sweet-savoury aroma
--in non-forum txt, you'll want an en-dash between sweet and savoury

that stimulates a deeply satisfying
insatiable hunger to understand something
--totally lost. satisfying vs insatiable makes me confused . . .
so much simpler and yet more accomplished than I.
--"so" is a cheat here. find a word that means "so much simpler"

[ChristopherSea]

Whoops, I must have replied to someone else's thread comment instead of your poem's and I was deleted (my apologies to them).

What I first said was: to always post the revision above the original. I saw counter advice and noticed a second post, but there is no need or utility in it. Sometimes our knee-jerk reactions to critiques bastardizes the poem and we need to see the progression to edit properly. This applies to both the reader and the poet.

As for the poem itself, it is quite the protocol for chopping an onion and a Food-Network worthy effort. However, in slicing into the pulp, releasing the sulfuric acid and other aromatics, thereby exposing those layers, there was a missed opportunity to reveal the strata of the man behind the knife or at least the narrator of the poem. You could still do it. See what you think. Cheers/Chris

[Caleb Murdock]

I just want to say that I prefer the original opening stanza to the revised one. I didn't agree with any of Tectak's comments on that stanza. I particularly love "spine-broken".

In the first version, I agree that calling it a "gleaming orb" before you remove the brown skin is a problem, but all you needed to do was substitute another adjective for "gleaming". I'm not sure how I feel about "knell", although I noticed it.

Cutting the onion releases a "tang", but doesn't that imply a taste (before you have tasted it)? Some word that means "aroma" would be better.

I agree that "grey mulch" didn't make much sense.

In closing, I just want to say that it is important to be true to the music in your head. Your original first stanza was more musical and interesting than the new one.

[crow]

I like the revised S1, but I agree that spine-broken is pretty wonderful.