The Walk

[bwasroy]

comments deleted. Please restrict your comments to the poem.

/mod

[QDeathstar]

Ok...


I think you are defending this a bit too much. I only had a thot. But lines like "but I will give to him in song " and "nights like this no turn is wrong" and "ill pretend he's walking by my side" are used in a lot of love songs/poems.


The confession isn't that he is gay, but that he has attraction for another person who might not share the same feelings for him.


But, it's your poem.

meh. that's just it. I'm not sure what you think I might be defending. If you think the poem can speak to people dealing with the difficulties of a possibly unrequited love, sounds good to me.

I did enjoy the poem.

I just wanted to understand it more. I feel its one of those poems they might have a english lit class read, then open it up for discussion.

[Truerenigma]

Ok...


I think you are defending this a bit too much. I only had a thot. But lines like "but I will give to him in song " and "nights like this no turn is wrong" and "ill pretend he's walking by my side" are used in a lot of love songs/poems.


The confession isn't that he is gay, but that he has attraction for another person who might not share the same feelings for him.


But, it's your poem.

meh. that's just it. I'm not sure what you think I might be defending. If you think the poem can speak to people dealing with the difficulties of a possibly unrequited love, sounds good to me.

I did enjoy the poem.

I just wanted to understand it more. I feel its one of those poems they might have a english lit class read, then open it up for discussion.

Thank you Q, that's very nice to hear.

I suppose I could explain some what I was trying to do in the poem, as it doesn't seem like anyone really has any suggestion for editing, so we might as well move into analysis and q & a if that's what you'd like to do. It's important to know that it's not of any greater importance than any reader's takeaways though, and it's only useful for figuring out different ways of looking at craft, a poem, or particular poem. If it bothers any of the mods they can always move it to discussion, I guess.

[cjchaffin]

well hell, i'll throw two more cents into the bucket since i have nothing else to add critique-wise:

for me, the confession aspect is cleared up in the very beginning with the dedication - il miglior fabbro

if you know the history behind it (Eliot to Pound, The Waste Land, etc.) then the rest of the story falls in place, imho

i didn't see this as a romantic confession at all, but rather one of appreciation, a camaraderie in craft, if you will

just my take on it. prolly readin too much into it, but that's how i connected with it.

it's a beautiful poem, btw.

[milo]

well hell, i'll throw two more cents into the bucket since i have nothing else to add critique-wise:

for me, the confession aspect is cleared up in the very beginning with the dedication - il miglior fabbro

if you know the history behind it (Eliot to Pound, The Waste Land, etc.) then the rest of the story falls in place, imho

i didn't see this as a romantic confession at all, but rather one of appreciation, a camaraderie in craft, if you will

just my take on it. prolly readin too much into it, but that's how i connected with it.

it's a beautiful poem, btw.

That was my take as well.

[Truerenigma]

I will confess and tell my friend

This is a pretty common device whose name escapes me as my faculties are not up to par right now, but I'll just pretend that I'm keep the name of the device to myself since it's not easily found on wikipedia. Basically the idea is to leave an important element out of the poem. Somebody said (again, I can't remember who) something along the lines of poetry being about what is left out, and good prose is good because of what it includes. It's always difficult to decide how much needs to be included line to line, unless of course you are deliberately leaving one specific thing out of the poem.

The funny thing is I didn't even worry (still don't) at all about what the confession might be. I figured the confession could be just about anything and it makes no real difference to the poem what it is - or, as billy said below, a simple speech act. I figured it might stir up some controversy since the word confess is so full of connotations and is one of those "big deal" words - I'm happy to let people feel uncomfortable,especially those who might think I write poems just to satisfy some morbid curiosity they might have.

One way to think about is is like this: suppose I said someone went into a confessional, and you asked what they confessed, and maybe i knew or maybe i didn't, but I wasn't going to tell you anyway so i just make up something that is of no consequence. Or suppose I said so and so went into the confessional, and I don't know what they confessed, but I give you a photograph of his face and expression going in and out - which is more interesting?

but I will give to him in song

Here, by "give" I meant to imply the possibility that this is a good friend who would gladly accept the /gift/. The only way I can think of that working and the gift actually being a genuine gift is if the gift is just general honesty. (or perhaps maybe a poem, as testament of appreciation.)

as frogs sing night unto its end.

Here we are moving narrative forward by establishing imagery, sounds, and atmosphere. There is also the possible allusion milo mentioned. TBH though, if there is an allusion on my part it would only be subconscious as I love the books. (Interesting fact, my nephew's first book he was able to read on his own was frog and toad together.)

Frogs sing bass, and crickets blend

This is where I wanted to start establishing mood. He is supposed to be confessing to his friend, but then we hear crickets. It is just creating more space in the poem and saying things but not saying them. I wanted to establish some element of silence or maybe loneliness in the noise, the proverbial pin drop.

their melodies - I'll hum along,
then I'll confess and tell my friend.

stalling on N's part, he's going to just hum along to the crickets. There could be a number of reasons for this, which I'm sure anyone could fill in their own idea here. The poem is developing into a bit by bit expository, and it's in no hurry. My intent was to let the reader think about these thing their own for a bit and form their own conclusions. There are plenty of things to grasp at, I think, and the experience, environment and language are pretty simple and clear.

I've missed my turn, my aimless wend
has led me where I don’t belong

It get's a little tricky here. We start to get what appears to be a sort of confession, but it's just moving the narrative along. It is also quite suggestive of some fairly classical ideas for walk metaphors (which go hand and hand with narrative). I was thinking quite a bit about Petrarch's Sonnet 211, and his allusion to Daedalus' maze and some of the philosophical ideas there, as well as his letter to Dionisio San Sepolcrohttp://Here is a translation: http://his...pet17.html http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ascent_of_Mont_Ventoux, as well as Dante moving away from the beloved Virgil, and ho when Dante looks into Beatrice's eyes on Mt. Purgatory he sees heaven, and when Petrarch looks into Laura's eyes he sees himself. I could go on but I don't think any of it is completely necessary on a surface reading of the poem as the ideas have been simplified over time and I think we are now able to to get a bit of a grasp and understand these idea without even know what it is exactly we are understanding.

as frogs sing night unto its end.

I'll meet him just around this bend,
on nights like this no turn is wrong,

The poem isn't taking any sides, nor does it make any attempt to reconcile the two ideas.

I will confess and tell my friend.

Reinforcing the idea, and reinforcing the allusions for anyone who wants to do further reading.

But for right now I'll just pretend
he’s walking by my side so long

Now we see what's really going on, his friend, possibly his guide, is no longer with him.

as frogs sing night unto its end.

If he’s not in this marsh, well then
I’ll search beyond the wood and on.

underworlds and exc.

I will confess and tell my friend
as frogs sing night unto its end.

while doing some of the reading, and editing through drafts I decided to dedicate it and the spaces and gaps (confession etc.) to milo simply because were it not for him I never would have been able to write this poem, so it is equally if not more so indebted to him as the figures above. The tetrameter and some of the other ideas and words as well as the line-break on "so long" point to him and some of his craft. It is a friendship poem too so I felt it appropriate. So there is a bit of a side-show meta poem in overlay that are my personal favorite parts of the poem.

It might also be worth mentioning also that this poem, like most poems are in my case, started with words and was built with the words, not the ideas, the ideas sprang from the words, which I simply followed from ancient greek and Latin through the renaissance etc. all the way to Robert Frost.

That doesn't mean it isn't genuine, I make every possible effort not to include any emotion, so if there is any in it it would have to be genuine and without pose.

P.s. Explanations of pomes after the fact are kind of silly.

---

well hell, i'll throw two more cents into the bucket since i have nothing else to add critique-wise:

for me, the confession aspect is cleared up in the very beginning with the dedication - il miglior fabbro

if you know the history behind it (Eliot to Pound, The Waste Land, etc.) then the rest of the story falls in place, imho

i didn't see this as a romantic confession at all, but rather one of appreciation, a camaraderie in craft, if you will

just my take on it. prolly readin too much into it, but that's how i connected with it.

it's a beautiful poem, btw.

Thank you !

---

I must say, that is a very sane assessment^^

[billy]

like a twat i read all the feedback first.

about the confess, i take it as "i say" while in theory it can be construed as a confession, it feels more like a prelude to a personal conversation.

the poem is full of friendship and a sadness, the sadness of someone who's leaving a close friend for one reason or another. the 1st person wishes to sing as a frog and states as frogs sing night unto its end. this line intimates leaving, the night being the death of the day. (the question for me now becomes, is the person dying and saying a last farewell. when i say dying it could also be a metaphorical death. of course that's my take and as is often the case will be well wrong. the second confess in the poem does feels like a need to confess has arisen. i don't get it to be of a sexual nature, but more a sharing of something private. there's also a distinct feeling of losing one's way.

the poem is a solid ville and from what i see is very well crafted, though the two line intro is unusual; i read it as a 2nd title and also a personal message that would probably only be clear to the recipient; in this case, Milo.

the serious shit of crit;
i think you could have played with the refrains a little in order to break up the exact repetition. there's an odd place i'd use a comma but that's too much of a nit to point to as it does work as is.

thanks for the read.

for milo
il miglior fabbro

I will confess and tell my friend
but I will give to him in song


Frogs sing bass, and crickets blend
their melodies - I’ll hum along,
then I’ll confess and tell my friend.

I've missed my turn, my aimless wend
has led me where I don’t belong
as frogs sing night unto its end.

I’ll meet him just around this bend,
on nights like this no turn is wrong,
I will confess and tell my friend.

But for right now I’ll just pretend
he’s walking by my side so long
as frogs sing night unto its end.

If he’s not in this marsh, well then
I’ll search beyond the wood and on.
I will confess and tell my friend
as frogs sing night unto its end.

[Truerenigma]

like a twat i read all the feedback first.

about the confess, i take it as "i say" while in theory it can be construed as a confession, it feels more like a prelude to a personal conversation.

the poem is full of friendship and a sadness, the sadness of someone who's leaving a close friend for one reason or another. the 1st person wishes to sing as a frog and states as frogs sing night unto its end. this line intimates leaving, the night being the death of the day. (the question for me now becomes, is the person dying and saying a last farewell. when i say dying it could also be a metaphorical death. of course that's my take and as is often the case will be well wrong. the second confess in the poem does feels like a need to confess has arisen. i don't get it to be of a sexual nature, but more a sharing of something private. there's also a distinct feeling of losing one's way.

the poem is a solid ville and from what i see is very well crafted, though the two line intro is unusual; i read it as a 2nd title and also a personal message that would probably only be clear to the recipient; in this case, Milo.

the serious shit of crit;
i think you could have played with the refrains a little in order to break up the exact repetition. there's an odd place i'd use a comma but that's too much of a nit to point to as it does work as is.

thanks for the read.

for milo
il miglior fabbro

I will confess and tell my friend
but I will give to him in song


Frogs sing bass, and crickets blend
their melodies - I’ll hum along,
then I’ll confess and tell my friend.

I've missed my turn, my aimless wend
has led me where I don’t belong
as frogs sing night unto its end.

I’ll meet him just around this bend,
on nights like this no turn is wrong,
I will confess and tell my friend.

But for right now I’ll just pretend
he’s walking by my side so long
as frogs sing night unto its end.

If he’s not in this marsh, well then
I’ll search beyond the wood and on.
I will confess and tell my friend
as frogs sing night unto its end.

Thank you for sharing your reading and a bit crit billy. I appreciate it, and found your commonsensical approach quite brilliant, and touching.

[Forever*young]

for milo
il miglior fabbro

I will confess and tell my friend
but I will give to him in song
as frogs sing night unto its end.

Frogs sing bass, and crickets blend
their melodies - I’ll hum along,
then I’ll confess and tell my friend.

I've missed my turn, my aimless wend
has led me where I don’t belong
as frogs sing night unto its end.

I’ll meet him just around this bend,
on nights like this no turn is wrong,
I will confess and tell my friend.

But for right now I’ll just pretend
he’s walking by my side so long
as frogs sing night unto its end.

If he’s not in this marsh, well then
I’ll search beyond the wood and on.
I will confess and tell my friend
as frogs sing night unto its end.

Trueenigma, I have to say I truly enjoyed reading this poem. For me personally, one of the things I most appreciate and look for in poetry is RHYTHM and this poem definitely has it. The pattern/structure of the rhythm allowed the poem to flow effortlessly and almost melodically--I applaud that. Also, I like the fact that you do not specify what the confession actually is. I enjoy poems that have a touch of ambiguity. In reality, I believe it many times adds a more poetic and captivating air to the poem. The content of a poem doesn't always need to be direct nor do the words always need to be clear. If the meaning/story behind the words were always so easy to grasp and understand, where would the beauty be? In addition, the title is "The Walk" and not "The Confession", which means your focus is obviously not the confession but the details surrounding it, this making the subject of the confession irrelevant as far as I'm concerned. In any case, I did have one doubt. In the first stanza, the second line: "but I will give to him in song"... I don't know if I'm not understanding correctly but, what exactly is it that you are going to give to him? This is the only part I "trip on". Other than that, this definitely deserves to be called a poem. I loved it Keep up the good work!

[tectak]

for milo
il miglior fabbro

I will confess and tell my friend
but I will give to him in song
as frogs sing night unto its end.

Frogs sing bass, and crickets blend
their melodies - I’ll hum along,
then I’ll confess and tell my friend.

I've missed my turn, my aimless wend
has led me where I don’t belong
as frogs sing night unto its end.

I’ll meet him just around this bend,
on nights like this no turn is wrong,
I will confess and tell my friend.

But for right now I’ll just pretend
he’s walking by my side so long
as frogs sing night unto its end.

If he’s not in this marsh, well then
I’ll search beyond the wood and on.
I will confess and tell my friend
as frogs sing night unto its end.

Hi true,
I could not help but note that in all the mellee surrounding this piece some crits have decided it is a poem. I agree. For mellee subsitute Malay..It is verging on a pantoum, but is not quite that easily defined.
I am taken by the form, regardless, but can understand, to a degree, the difficulty some crits had with the profundity of the "confess" word. On an historical "information" board in a publicly accessible estate close to me, the word "confess" is used to mean, in 1750,"confide". So carry on.
Best,
tectak

[Truerenigma]

Thanks tec, yes there are a lot of stock responses and irrelevant associations that come up with many poems. In this case though the piece seems to have generated a lot of interest, and has reached many readers who are asking themselves a lot of, perhaps difficult, questions. I can't ask for much more. It would be fairly easy for me to write an informative prose piece that defines a word or two; this poem, however, was extremely difficult to be made to look simple and easy, and it is easy for me to toss and dismiss many earlier works as being mere studies to this poem and others like it.

There is no guilt for me in being proud of this poem--I could do, and have done, much worse.

A confidant and/or comrade is always a gift imo. I disagree with some of the seemingly fairly common views that poems need to exorcize that confidence.

[Truerenigma]

I love the sing song rhythm and sensibility. The love is, yes burgeoningly apparent. When is love bad? But thats irrelevant. Like the word "wend". I've employed it meself with impunity. I find the piece wholly if not in part, accomplished. By the way, the ubiquitous sound of frogs croaking, and crickets cricking on a summer's night is very effective, quite loverly as it patterns the sing-song nature of the poem.

thank you poe, I'm glad you were able to get a strong sense of the environment and setting.

---

for milo
il miglior fabbro

I will confess and tell my friend
but I will give to him in song
as frogs sing night unto its end.

Frogs sing bass, and crickets blend
their melodies - I’ll hum along,
then I’ll confess and tell my friend.

I've missed my turn, my aimless wend
has led me where I don’t belong
as frogs sing night unto its end.

I’ll meet him just around this bend,
on nights like this no turn is wrong,
I will confess and tell my friend.

But for right now I’ll just pretend
he’s walking by my side so long
as frogs sing night unto its end.

If he’s not in this marsh, well then
I’ll search beyond the wood and on.
I will confess and tell my friend
as frogs sing night unto its end.

Trueenigma, I have to say I truly enjoyed reading this poem. For me personally, one of the things I most appreciate and look for in poetry is RHYTHM and this poem definitely has it. The pattern/structure of the rhythm allowed the poem to flow effortlessly and almost melodically--I applaud that. Also, I like the fact that you do not specify what the confession actually is. I enjoy poems that have a touch of ambiguity. In reality, I believe it many times adds a more poetic and captivating air to the poem. The content of a poem doesn't always need to be direct nor do the words always need to be clear. If the meaning/story behind the words were always so easy to grasp and understand, where would the beauty be? In addition, the title is "The Walk" and not "The Confession", which means your focus is obviously not the confession but the details surrounding it, this making the subject of the confession irrelevant as far as I'm concerned. In any case, I did have one doubt. In the first stanza, the second line: "but I will give to him in song"... I don't know if I'm not understanding correctly but, what exactly is it that you are going to give to him? This is the only part I "trip on". Other than that, this definitely deserves to be called a poem. I loved it Keep up the good work!

Thank you forever*young for your applause, and for selecting my poem to take some time to read and comment on, and for pointing out the line that tripped you up.

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