Another Love ( that dare not speak its name) edit 2.edit 1.erthona,ella,chris
#1
Edit 2 mostly billy
.
What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved?
Heads no longer turn with wide-eyed glance, flush with the glow
of hearts on fire and blood the fuel; no quickening breath,
no trilling pulse. It is too late to start again, to make new flames
with sticks of green. Bright days that mellow young, plump fruit
are not for me, now I am in my vintage years and should be drunk.
Damned noble rot still sweetens up what ought not tempt me now
and so I close these eyes that secretly caress. No touch of mine
will safely find that softness once again. With purpose dead,
all that remains is risqué flattery and hope; but no, not even that...
for such is not the love that shines. Another hides behind the sham,
that dare not speak and must not speak: this the greatest loss of all.
When days with names we can’t recall begin to count each night away,
we best forget not just the days, but what love meant…
when last it shone our way.



Edit 1

What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire
and blood the fuel? It is too late to start again, to make new flames
with sticks of green; long years that mellow bright, crisp fruit
are not for me, now I am in my vintage time and should be drunk.
Damned noble rot still sweetens up what ought not tempt me;
though my eyes can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find
that softness once again. With purpose dead, all that is left
is risqué flattery and hope, but no not even that...
for such is not the love that shines. Another hides behind
dimmed eyes, that dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014


original

What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire and blood the fuel?
It is too late to start again, to make new flames with sticks of green;
long years which mellow bright, crisp fruit are not for me, now I am in my vintage time .
Damned noble rot can sweeten up what ought not tempt me; though my eyes
can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find that softness once again.
With purpose dead, all that is left is risqué flattery and hope, but no
not even that…for such is not the love that shines. Another hides
behind the watery eyes, and dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014
Reply
#2
i think you have way too much punctuation re commas, a lot or few of them could go. there's a lot of pain in the poem and it hides just below what ever surface a poem has. it feels a bit over the top but i think that may be more a problem with me than the poem and only mention it here in passing. in general there's a lot of feelings that bubble to the surface and in doing so creates in the this reader a sense of deep loss more than a sense of not getting any more stiffies. (i couldn't think of a better phrase to describe a lower libido) Smile i like a ot of the phrasing and how it stops just this side of too much (apart from the first line)

thanks for the read as always

(05-15-2014, 03:44 PM)tectak Wrote:  What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath it feels like there's a clause missing from or open eyed? sorry but i can't make or open eyed work as it stands.
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire
and blood the fuel? i also have trouble with this question and blood the fuel? it reads more like a statement It is too late to start again, to make new flames
with sticks of green; long years that mellow bright, crisp fruit
are not for me, now I am in my vintage time and should be drunk.
Damned noble rot still sweetens up what ought not tempt me; i'm not sure you need all the me's as it's a given from the language it's about you
though my eyes can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find some nice ca and mi sounds make this line almost perfect for the ear.
that softness once again. With purpose dead, all that is left
is risqué flattery and hope, but no not even that...
for such is not the love that shines. Another hides behind
dimmed eyes, that dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014


original

What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire and blood the fuel?
It is too late to start again, to make new flames with sticks of green;
long years which mellow bright, crisp fruit are not for me, now I am in my vintage time .
Damned noble rot can sweeten up what ought not tempt me; though my eyes
can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find that softness once again.
With purpose dead, all that is left is risqué flattery and hope, but no
not even that…for such is not the love that shines. Another hides
behind the watery eyes, and dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014
Reply
#3
(05-15-2014, 05:49 PM)billy Wrote:  i think you have way too much punctuation re commas, a lot or few of them could go. there's a lot of pain in the poem and it hides just below what ever surface a poem has. it feels a bit over the top but i think that may be more a problem with me than the poem and only mention it here in passing. in general there's a lot of feelings that bubble to the surface and in doing so creates in the this reader a sense of deep loss more than a sense of not getting any more stiffies. (i couldn't think of a better phrase to describe a lower libido) Smile i like a ot of the phrasing and how it stops just this side of too much (apart from the first line)

thanks for the read as always

(05-15-2014, 03:44 PM)tectak Wrote:  What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath it feels like there's a clause missing from or open eyed? sorry but i can't make or open eyed work as it stands.
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire
and blood the fuel? i also have trouble with this question and blood the fuel? it reads more like a statement It is too late to start again, to make new flames
with sticks of green; long years that mellow bright, crisp fruit
are not for me, now I am in my vintage time and should be drunk.
Damned noble rot still sweetens up what ought not tempt me; i'm not sure you need all the me's as it's a given from the language it's about you
though my eyes can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find some nice ca and mi sounds make this line almost perfect for the ear.
that softness once again. With purpose dead, all that is left
is risqué flattery and hope, but no not even that...
for such is not the love that shines. Another hides behind
dimmed eyes, that dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014


original

What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire and blood the fuel?
It is too late to start again, to make new flames with sticks of green;
long years which mellow bright, crisp fruit are not for me, now I am in my vintage time .
Damned noble rot can sweeten up what ought not tempt me; though my eyes
can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find that softness once again.
With purpose dead, all that is left is risqué flattery and hope, but no
not even that…for such is not the love that shines. Another hides
behind the watery eyes, and dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014

Excellent stuff, billy I will work on all your points. I left the somewhat disjointed veracity-verse stuff almost as was....a friend of twenty years popped his clogs last year, some three years after his wife had died, after which by a year we had an in-depth conversation about how he was not so much unloved by anyone but unable to GIVE love to someone. The wine worked too well and I would not have put this up if he was still alive...but I feel able be more creative with his thoughts nowSmileBest,
tectak
Reply
#4
Shoot you double posted this thing, which changes my critique. Why are your edits posted as new threads? Tongue Nonetheless, it is an emotive poem. Well, the few suggestions I now have on this version are substituting 'hearts afire' for 'hearts on fire' and perhaps consider 'all the remains is risque flattery' for 'all that is left is risqué flattery' and possibly lose one of those 'speak's with a substitution: 'that dare not speak and must not tell'. These address some aesthetics and alliteration more than anything else. See what you think. Cheers/Chris
My new watercolor: 'Nightmare After Christmas'/Chris
Reply
#5
(05-15-2014, 07:53 PM)ChristopherSea Wrote:  Shoot you double posted this thing, which changes my critique. Why are your edits posted as new threads? Tongue Nonetheless, it is an emotive poem. Well, the few suggestions I now have on this version are substituting 'hearts afire' for 'hearts on fire' and perhaps consider 'all the remains is risque flattery' for 'all that is left is risqué flattery' and possibly lose one of those 'speak's with a substitution: 'that dare not speak and must not tell'. These address some aesthetics and alliteration more than anything else. See what you think. Cheers/Chris

Hi chris,
thanks for commenting...I rather feel I owe you oneSmile
First things first...I DO add to a thread in Workshopping until it gets too ungainly or I make a revisionary edit. New poem, new thread.
"heart afire" is just too archaic for me and may be read as a come'on by a certain contributor. Are you there, Heart?Smile
I cannot see a valid reason for changing to "all that remains" from "all that is left", but no doubt you will explainSmileOh, yes, I see it. Two ises. Thanks.
Now the but.....your note on the double speak I found interesting. I am undecided. Normally, bad word, I would argue against what looks like accidental repetition...but does this look accidental? It was a deliberate reinforcement technique but perhaps has failed.
Watch this space.
Best,
tectak
Reply
#6
What an inelegant haircut. Unless you find a better barber, I would leave it long.

Heart's on fire indeed,
been drinking too much mead?


dale the querulous
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.
Reply
#7
(05-16-2014, 04:39 AM)Erthona Wrote:  What an inelegant haircut. Unless you find a better barber, I would leave it long.

Heart's on fire indeed,
been drinking too much mead?


dale the querulous
Teasy bloody weasy.
Best,
tectak
Reply
#8
(05-15-2014, 03:44 PM)tectak Wrote:  Edit 2 mostly billy
.
What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved?
Heads no longer turn with wide-eyed glance, flush with the glow
of hearts on fire and blood the fuel; no quickening breath,
no trilling pulse. It is too late to start again, to make new flames
with sticks of green. Bright days that mellow young, plump fruit
are not for me, now I am in my vintage years and should be drunk.
Damned noble rot still sweetens up what ought not tempt me now
and so I close these eyes that secretly caress. No touch of mine
will safely find that softness once again. With purpose dead,
all that remains is risqué flattery and hope; but no, not even that...
for such is not the love that shines. Another hides behind the sham,
that dare not speak and must not speak: this the greatest loss of all.
When days with names we can’t recall begin to count each night away,
we best forget not just the days, but what love meant…
when last it shone our way.



Edit 1

What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire
and blood the fuel? It is too late to start again, to make new flames
with sticks of green; long years that mellow bright, crisp fruit
are not for me, now I am in my vintage time and should be drunk.
Damned noble rot still sweetens up what ought not tempt me;
though my eyes can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find
that softness once again. With purpose dead, all that is left
is risqué flattery and hope, but no not even that...
for such is not the love that shines. Another hides behind
dimmed eyes, that dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014


original

What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire and blood the fuel?
It is too late to start again, to make new flames with sticks of green;
long years which mellow bright, crisp fruit are not for me, now I am in my vintage time .
Damned noble rot can sweeten up what ought not tempt me; though my eyes
can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find that softness once again.
With purpose dead, all that is left is risqué flattery and hope, but no
not even that…for such is not the love that shines. Another hides
behind the watery eyes, and dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014

Hi Tectak: I like the change to wide-eyed; I happen to like the punctuation the way it is written. I have been interested in various opinions of punctuation; poets have told me to just forget them? More than all, that I could say about things like alliteration at this point, the poem is full of soul shared openly and I really like it. Loretta
Reply
#9
(05-19-2014, 07:57 AM)LorettaYoung Wrote:  
(05-15-2014, 03:44 PM)tectak Wrote:  Edit 2 mostly billy
.
What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved?
Heads no longer turn with wide-eyed glance, flush with the glow
of hearts on fire and blood the fuel; no quickening breath,
no trilling pulse. It is too late to start again, to make new flames
with sticks of green. Bright days that mellow young, plump fruit
are not for me, now I am in my vintage years and should be drunk.
Damned noble rot still sweetens up what ought not tempt me now
and so I close these eyes that secretly caress. No touch of mine
will safely find that softness once again. With purpose dead,
all that remains is risqué flattery and hope; but no, not even that...
for such is not the love that shines. Another hides behind the sham,
that dare not speak and must not speak: this the greatest loss of all.
When days with names we can’t recall begin to count each night away,
we best forget not just the days, but what love meant…
when last it shone our way.



Edit 1

What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire
and blood the fuel? It is too late to start again, to make new flames
with sticks of green; long years that mellow bright, crisp fruit
are not for me, now I am in my vintage time and should be drunk.
Damned noble rot still sweetens up what ought not tempt me;
though my eyes can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find
that softness once again. With purpose dead, all that is left
is risqué flattery and hope, but no not even that...
for such is not the love that shines. Another hides behind
dimmed eyes, that dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014


original

What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire and blood the fuel?
It is too late to start again, to make new flames with sticks of green;
long years which mellow bright, crisp fruit are not for me, now I am in my vintage time .
Damned noble rot can sweeten up what ought not tempt me; though my eyes
can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find that softness once again.
With purpose dead, all that is left is risqué flattery and hope, but no
not even that…for such is not the love that shines. Another hides
behind the watery eyes, and dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014

Hi Tectak: I like the change to wide-eyed; I happen to like the punctuation the way it is written. I have been interested in various opinions of punctuation; poets have told me to just forget them? More than all, that I could say about things like alliteration at this point, the poem is full of soul shared openly and I really like it. Loretta
Hi loretta,
Thanks for your comments. Regarding "poets" who tell you to "forget" about punctuation. Three things...First: Those who can, do. Second: To forget something you need to have known it in the first place. Third: If you want to join The Mediocrity Club...just fail. It is considered a virtue by the Mediocrity school.
Best,
tectak
Reply
#10
(05-15-2014, 05:49 PM)billy Wrote:  i think you have way too much punctuation re commas, a lot or few of them could go. there's a lot of pain in the poem and it hides just below what ever surface a poem has. it feels a bit over the top but i think that may be more a problem with me than the poem and only mention it here in passing. in general there's a lot of feelings that bubble to the surface and in doing so creates in the this reader a sense of deep loss more than a sense of not getting any more stiffies. (i couldn't think of a better phrase to describe a lower libido) Smile i like a ot of the phrasing and how it stops just this side of too much (apart from the first line)

thanks for the read as always

(05-15-2014, 03:44 PM)tectak Wrote:  What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath it feels like there's a clause missing from or open eyed? sorry but i can't make or open eyed work as it stands.
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire
and blood the fuel? i also have trouble with this question and blood the fuel? it reads more like a statement It is too late to start again, to make new flames
with sticks of green; long years that mellow bright, crisp fruit
are not for me, now I am in my vintage time and should be drunk.
Damned noble rot still sweetens up what ought not tempt me; i'm not sure you need all the me's as it's a given from the language it's about you
though my eyes can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find some nice ca and mi sounds make this line almost perfect for the ear.
that softness once again. With purpose dead, all that is left
is risqué flattery and hope, but no not even that...
for such is not the love that shines. Another hides behind
dimmed eyes, that dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014


original

What is the point of love if not to shine upon the loved;
no heads turn now or open eyed, with quickened breath
and trilling pulse, flush with the glow of hearts on fire and blood the fuel?
It is too late to start again, to make new flames with sticks of green;
long years which mellow bright, crisp fruit are not for me, now I am in my vintage time .
Damned noble rot can sweeten up what ought not tempt me; though my eyes
can still caress, no touch of mine will safely find that softness once again.
With purpose dead, all that is left is risqué flattery and hope, but no
not even that…for such is not the love that shines. Another hides
behind the watery eyes, and dare not speak and must not speak;
This is the greatest loss of all, when days with names we can’t recall
begin to count each night away, we best forget not just the days,
but what love ever meant…when last it shone our way.

Tectak
2014

I critque that there is any more necessary to make this a more beautiful read. I'm sorry, Loretta
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