4/3/5

[canofworms]

Latest revision:

"Karl Karl Karl" the crow caws
From its perch on a log outside my window.
It is April 2005 and I have yet to propose. 
Again "Karl Karl Karl" the crow caws from the log floating by my window as the spring thaw floods the muddy river. It swells and surrounds the shotgun shack I built for us. 
I am young and strong and defiant. A modern Ulysses, polytropos without a beard. Even Mother Nature's wrath for building on her river's bed seems a mere nuisance. I can rescue my fair maiden, my damsel, my waif, my wife, where all have failed: the doctors, her mother, her father, even God himself.
"Karl! Karl! Karl!" the crow caws outside my window, his black eyes screaming at me, head cocked to one side. 
But still I sleep. And moonlight dances on the surging river rising higher and higher. The water lapping against the cedar shakes, making its way into my dreams. 
Day breaks and I roll out of bed to find water at my feet, the window closed. I look for my black eyed tormentor I see nothing but water surrounding the house. 
I am inundated. 

And for a brief moment I almost heed the warning.
Maybe I understand but then decide to forget.
I knew who he was and what happened. 
I knew he was dead. 
I knew it was because of her and what she had done to him. 
And there is no mistake the crow cried  "Karl!"
like some Shakespeare ghost with prophetic, tragic  revelations. 
Tragic because it makes no difference, the players will make the same decisions every time. 
All the while the gallery watches, hoping that it will be different this time around.
A cockney voice down front cries  "Don't do it!" Another "It's a trap!" 
But the players will make the same decisions every time. 
                  
                  Her lilting voice come-hithers me 
                  to bed and sweet perfume 
                  Anon I said and walked toward 
                  this siren song, my doom.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Original: 

"Karl Karl Karl" the crow caws
From its perch on a log outside my window.
It was April 2005 and I had yet to propose. 
Again "Karl Karl Karl!" the crow cawed from the log floating by my window as the spring thaw flooded the muddy river. It swelled and surrounded the shotgun shack I built for us. 
I was young and strong and defiant. I stood a modern Ulysses, polytropos without a beard. Even Mother Nature's wrath for building on her river's bed seemed a mere nuisance. Old lady across the street said, it had been over the eaves in '68 and Grandma lost her mind in '84. I'd row my dented Jon boat a quarter mile to my Continental on the berm. I could rescue my fair maiden, my damsel, my waif, my wife, where all had failed: the doctors, her mother, her father, even God himself.
"Karl! Karl! Karl!" the crow caws outside my window, his black eyes screaming at me, head cocked to one side. 
But still I sleep. And moonlight dances on the surging river rising higher and higher. It does. The water lapping gently against the cedar shakes, making their way into my dreams. 
as day breaks and I roll out of bed to find water at my feet, the window closed. I look out for my black eyed tormentor I see nothing but water surrounding the house. 
I am inundated. Echoing in my ears "Karl!"
And for a moment there I almost get it. Maybe I did and just didn't want to. 
But the warning "Karl Karl Karl!" went unheeded. 
I knew who he was and what happened. I knew he was dead. I knew it was because of her and what she had done to him. 
And there was no mistake in my mind that the crow cried 
"Karl! Karl! Karl!"
Like some Shakespeare ghost, pleading that I run away and save myself from this doom. A slow train wreck that everyone in the audience has seen coming for four hundred years. 

A lilting voice come-hithers me 
to bed and sweet perfume 
Anon I said and walked toward 
this siren song, my doom.

[CRNDLSM]

Feel free to critique or rewrite or suggest as you wish. 

I haven't ever been big on perfect punctuation, but do my best.  years of living with someone who corrected my punctuation over my shoulder, before I could correct it myself, made me want to do so even less.  

Punctuation, how hard is it to be on time?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Karl Karl Karl" the crow caws
From its perch on a log outside my window.
It was April 2005 and I had yet to propose. To the lady that killed karl?
Again "Karl Karl Karl!" the crow cawed from the log floating by my window as the spring thaw flooded the muddy river. It swelled and surrounded the shotgun shack I built for us. 
I was young and strong and defiant. I stood a modern Ulysses, polytropos without a beard. Even Mother Nature's wrath for building on her river's bed seemed a mere nuisance. Old lady across the street said, it had been over the eaves in '68 and Grandma lost her mind in '84 for me this line almost doesn't work, unless one of them is the killer of Karl or the lady you proposed to, unless propose has nothing to do with marriage. I'd row my dented Jon boat a quarter mile to my Continental on the berm. I could rescue my fair maiden, my damsel, my waif, my wife, where all had failed: the doctors, her mother, her father, even God himself.rescue the killer? Is this the old lady across the street
"Karl! Karl! Karl!" the crow caws outside my window, his black eyes screaming at me, head cocked to one side. 
But still I sleep. And moonlight dances on the surging river rising higher and higher. It does. The water lapping gently against the cedar shakes, making their way into my dreams. 
as day breaks and I roll out of bed to find water at my feet, the window closed. I look out for my black eyed tormentor I see nothing but water surrounding the house. Fairly suspenseful
I am inundated. Echoing in my ears "Karl!"
And for a moment there I almost get it. Maybe I did and just didn't want to. 
But the warning "Karl Karl Karl!" went unheeded. 
I knew who he was and what happened. I knew he was dead. I knew it was because of her and what she had done to him. 
And there was no mistake in my mind that the crow cried 
"Karl! Karl! Karl!"the beating of the hideous heart
Like some Shakespeare ghost, pleading that I run away and save myself from this doom. A slow train wreck that everyone in the audience has seen coming for four hundred years. 

A lilting voice come-hithers me crow caws
to bed and sweet perfume water bed death
Anon I said and walked toward not a fan of 'anon'
this siren song, my doom.

So it sounds like you let the water take you in your grief.  You're the slow train walking towards it cause of something mysterious that haunts you.  And it seems  you've blended genres, a poem about a story you wrote.  The poem being the four lines at the end.  I really like the descriptions of the water and don't care much for the back story, with the exception of the shack. 

[canofworms]

Feel free to critique or rewrite or suggest as you wish. 

I haven't ever been big on perfect punctuation, but do my best.  years of living with someone who corrected my punctuation over my shoulder, before I could correct it myself, made me want to do so even less.  

Punctuation, how hard is it to be on time?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Karl Karl Karl" the crow caws
From its perch on a log outside my window.
It was April 2005 and I had yet to propose. To the lady that killed karl? --YES, marriage
Again "Karl Karl Karl!" the crow cawed from the log floating by my window as the spring thaw flooded the muddy river. It swelled and surrounded the shotgun shack I built for us. 
I was young and strong and defiant. I stood a modern Ulysses, polytropos without a beard. Even Mother Nature's wrath for building on her river's bed seemed a mere nuisance. Old lady across the street said, it had been over the eaves in '68 and Grandma lost her mind in '84 for me this line almost doesn't work, unless one of them is the killer of Karl or the lady you proposed to, unless propose has nothing to do with marriage.   --OK. I'd row my dented Jon boat a quarter mile to my Continental on the berm. I could rescue my fair maiden, my damsel, my waif, my wife, where all had failed: the doctors, her mother, her father, even God himself.rescue the killer? Is this the old lady across the street
"Karl! Karl! Karl!" the crow caws outside my window, his black eyes screaming at me, head cocked to one side. 
But still I sleep. And moonlight dances on the surging river rising higher and higher. It does. The water lapping gently against the cedar shakes, making their way into my dreams. 
as day breaks and I roll out of bed to find water at my feet, the window closed. I look out for my black eyed tormentor I see nothing but water surrounding the house. Fairly suspenseful
I am inundated. Echoing in my ears "Karl!"
And for a moment there I almost get it. Maybe I did and just didn't want to. 
But the warning "Karl Karl Karl!" went unheeded. 
I knew who he was and what happened. I knew he was dead. I knew it was because of her and what she had done to him. 
And there was no mistake in my mind that the crow cried 
"Karl! Karl! Karl!"the beating of the hideous heart
Like some Shakespeare ghost, pleading that I run away and save myself from this doom. A slow train wreck that everyone in the audience has seen coming for four hundred years. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This stanza is a nod to Shakespeare, although I could never write in iambic pent.- too many syllables-- and  thus archaic  words and melodrama are given a pass. or at least that's my intent.
 
A lilting voice come-hithers me crow caws.  -this is literally her sleeping in bed. 
to bed and sweet perfume water bed death 
Anon I said and walked toward not a fan of 'anon' -nod to Shakespeare
this siren song, my doom.

So it sounds like you let the water take you in your grief.  You're the slow train walking towards it cause of something mysterious that haunts you.  And it seems  you've blended genres, a poem about a story you wrote.  The poem being the four lines at the end.  I really like the descriptions of the water and don't care much for the back story, with the exception of the shack. 

THANKS!
Its actually a dream I had on that day.  I know the day because of when the flood hit. 
there was no crow. it was in my mind. Crows don't call in the middle of the night. 
Thinking about it years later, after she tried to destroy me, I believe it was my subconscious warning me of things to come.

---

So to take your advice
I removed the part about the Old lady.
How is my punctuation on this?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Karl Karl Karl" the crow caws
From its perch on a log outside my window.
It was April 2005 and I had yet to propose.
Again "Karl Karl Karl!" the crow cawed from the log floating by my window as the spring thaw flooded the muddy river. It swelled and surrounded the shotgun shack I built for us.
I was young and strong and defiant. I stood a modern Ulysses, polytropos without a beard. Even Mother Nature's wrath for building on her river's bed seemed a mere nuisance. I'd row my dented Jon boat a quarter mile to my Continental on the berm. I could rescue my fair maiden, my damsel, my waif, my wife, where all had failed: the doctors, her mother, her father, even God himself.
"Karl! Karl! Karl!" the crow caws outside my window, his black eyes screaming at me, head cocked to one side.
But still I sleep. And moonlight dances on the surging river rising higher and higher. It does. The water lapping gently against the cedar shakes, making their way into my dreams.
as day breaks and I roll out of bed to find water at my feet, the window closed. I look out for my black eyed tormentor I see nothing but water surrounding the house.
I am inundated. Echoing in my ears "Karl!"
And for a moment there I almost get it. Maybe I did and just didn't want to.
But the warning "Karl Karl Karl!" went unheeded.
I knew who he was and what happened. I knew he was dead. I knew it was because of her and what she had done to him.
And there was no mistake in my mind that the crow cried
"Karl! Karl! Karl!"
Like some Shakespeare ghost, pleading that I run away and save myself from this doom. A slow train wreck that everyone in the audience has seen coming for four hundred years.

A lilting voice come-hithers me
to bed and sweet perfume
Anon I said and walked toward
this siren song, my doom.

[Lizzie]

Hi canofworms. So, it seems like what you have here is, at the core, a pretty timeless theme of the man-eater, the Pandora, the Delilah (and then the explicit reference to the Sirens). I get that the crow is important to the scene, but it's overdone -- you only need one or two references, and repeating it actually weakens its impact. The more you repeat it, the more it feels like you're trying to rip off "The Raven."

It's clear that you have a good handle on the English language, but it's still a sprawling piece. Needs a lot of trimming. Some things don't need to be repeated, like in line 4 you repeat almost verbatim the line about the window and the log that you have in line two. You don't need to hammer points home like that -- trust in your reader a little bit to remember and make connections.

Since this is in basic, I'll only make one more point, and that's that the line about watching a train wreck for the last 400 years...trains haven't existed that long. I understand that you're not being literal, but I keep reading that bit and being bothered by the logical inconsistency.

Hope this helps some.

Lizzie

[Donald Q.]

Personally I think this needs a format overhaul. It reads like prose.

[canofworms]

Hi canofworms. So, it seems like what you have here is, at the core, a pretty timeless theme of the man-eater, the Pandora, the Delilah (and then the explicit reference to the Sirens). I get that the crow is important to the scene, but it's overdone -- you only need one or two references, and repeating it actually weakens its impact. The more you repeat it, the more it feels like you're trying to rip off "The Raven."

It's clear that you have a good handle on the English language, but it's still a sprawling piece. Needs a lot of trimming. Some things don't need to be repeated, like in line 4 you repeat almost verbatim the line about the window and the log that you have in line two. You don't need to hammer points home like that -- trust in your reader a little bit to remember and make connections.

Since this is in basic, I'll only make one more point, and that's that the line about watching a train wreck for the last 400 years...trains haven't existed that long. I understand that you're not being literal, but I keep reading that bit and being bothered by the logical inconsistency.

Hope this helps some.

Lizzie

I hear what you are saying. 

It's hard to mention any black bird making any noise without the reader thinking the Raven. 
The problem is that black birds have always been in the public mind as menacing and as long as man has been around they have been cawing and freaking us out. 

I'll give these suggestions a  a shot. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As far as sounding like prose.  
What I'm trying to do is space the sound of the the crow with my frantic prose thoughts. 
and to create a sense of urgency,

But it's hard to tell this tale without sounding like the raven. But Poe's bird (pun intended) called nevermore. not the name of a dead lover.

As far as the sirens... I refer to myself as Ulysses in the beginning and then draw it back to the sirens at the end. 
I resisted the urge to define my defiance of mother nature as "Hubris" Which was Ulysses's main flaw. My hubris is thinking I can fix anything do anything... 
~~~~~~
I'll see if I can do that without seeming so disjoited.

[canofworms]

Actually, I want to ask you all something.

My repetition and changing genres and writing prose is all on purpose.
Its actually prose with a verse denouement

Like when I repeat the crow imagery. I'm trying to create a sense of urgency and anxiety in the reader.
I want to make it clear that this was disturbing and flashing in my minds eye like a nightmare, because it was a nightmare.
Like a flash of the imagery. then my retrospection. A flash and more dissection..
---But then again, I hear you. I can't talk about a crow without sounding like a Poe wannabe.
Each line is read fast without a break until the next new line.

I think I need to read it aloud... I'll try and do that through youtube,

---

When I read it aloud there are too many karls. So I rewrote it using more of the advice given.

OK. So I took out more of the back story and a few Karl's and wrote this first part in present tense.

"Karl Karl Karl" the crow caws
From its perch on a log outside my window.
It is April 2005 and I have yet to propose.
Again "Karl Karl Karl!" the crow caws from the log floating by my window as the spring thaw floods the muddy river. It swells and surrounds the shotgun shack I built for us.
I am young and strong and defiant. A modern Ulysses, polytropos without a beard. Even Mother Nature's wrath for building on her river's bed seems a mere nuisance. I can rescue my fair maiden, my damsel, my waif, my wife, where all have failed: the doctors, her mother, her father, even God himself.
"Karl! Karl! Karl!" the crow caws outside my window, his black eyes screaming at me, head cocked to one side.
But still I sleep. And moonlight dances on the surging river rising higher and higher. The water lapping against the cedar shakes, making its way into my dreams.
Day breaks and I roll out of bed to find water at my feet, the window closed. I look for my black eyed tormentor I see nothing but water surrounding the house.
I am inundated.
Here is where I change to past tense.
And for a brief moment I almost got the warning call.
Maybe I did and just didn't want to.
I knew who he was and what happened. I knew he was dead. I knew it was because of her and what she had done to him.
But there is no mistake that crow cried to me
"Karl!"
Like some Shakespeare ghost, pleading that I run away and save myself from this doom. A meandering disaster that everyone in the audience has seen coming for four hundred years.

This last verse conveys that instead of heeding the warning and leaving, Like a quixotic sap I stayed. I feel like I need some transition into this...I want to say that I should have left but..then i decided to get back in bed with her



Her lilting voice come-hithers me
to bed and sweet perfume
Anon I said and walked toward
this siren song, my doom.

[ellajam]

Moved from Basic at worm's request.

How to post an edit

[canofworms]

Moved from Basic at worm's request.

How to post an edit

Thank you EllaJam.  I put the revised piece at the top with the initial underneath.