Lockdown edit 2 and fro!
#1
I previously posted this in basic but I would like to post my latest edit in mild to elicit a more detailed response. I might add I have no real understanding of composing poetry but please don’t feel you are wasting your time analysing. I greatly appreciate any feedback which hopefully can be used in future. Many thanks in advance. (Apologies also if posting in two different sections is frowned upon. I will delete where applicable.)

Newbie


The dog knows.

Held prisoner by the despondent eyes of
our rescue
I escape to my garden
with joyous contraband of cigars and booze

Released in daydream
of garden pubs, disembargoed beers,
freely gathered friends all;
with a reignited liberty-
I exhale upon the weeds:

nature’s non conformers
that thrive; exalted in
our absence 

From my garden, I wilt indoors;
an acquiescent hostage keep
where doubts smoulder and
our happiness
must lie

We're in a lockdown.

The dog knows.

 




The dog knows.

Held prisoner by the despondent eyes of
our rescue
I escape to my garden
with joyous contraband of cigars and booze

Released in daydream
of garden pubs, disembargoed beers,
freely gathered friends all;
with a reignited liberty - I exhale upon the weeds:
nature’s non conformers
that thrive; exalted in
our absence 

From my garden, I wilt indoors;
an acquiescent hostage keep
where doubts smoulder and
our happiness
must lie

We're in a lockdown.

The dog knows.

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#2
Hey new, welcome and thanks for posting this.  Hey, the capitilised first words of every line sort of detradt, but that's a minor thing.
Below are some in-line comments:

(05-30-2021, 01:05 PM)newbie Wrote:  Even the dug knows we're not compatible Hmm? "dug" not "dog" since the word appears twice, must be intentional. Interesting first line, though.
How can that sideways look from your year old rescue
Splayed in one of his countless hair shedding comfort zones
Mean so much as I exit the indoors to the garden Yes, dogs do know things.
For the all too frequent cigar and drink  You slide in a drinking problem  here.
Fuck it
My space I say And here you claim it as your right, your space. OK

I work amidst the virus need a period here
Every other cunt has the luxury of zoom and work from home Stuck at home ain't too cool, either, but OK
Another reminder of my wasted youth and potential potential AH -HA, now we begin to get to the real root of it.
I am working class 
Like it or fucking lump it
A key worker 
Applaud me you sighs Yes, at first there were applause, but how quickly that wore off. I ain't familiar with the "sighs" slang, but I get it.

I'll build a fucking bar out here Now the dreaming begins. OK
Countless hours planning 
Staring at the weeds
Not that they bother me 
Natures misunderstood 
Non conforming Interesting how you bring in the weeds (and how you relate to them)
A garden bar won't solve this problem 
Plough what you will into it.  The dream on hold...)

It's been a year and a half to remember 
A jab in the arm
A cure all
Dependant on how I react dependent with an "e" not "a'
This could be the best time of my life Hope starts to creep in...
But for my children?
And the memories of a half filled parentage But there is guilt
With the vow of mine won't have that  Akward line here, I'm afraid, but I get what you mean.
All thoughts in the world don't excuse a parents' purpose  How about "dreams" instead of "thoughts"? Best line in the poem, this.

Back in from the garden to the gaff And it's back to reality...
Where my doubts can smoulder on 
That's where the happiness must lie resignation apparent
And only the dug they wanted knows what's what  Ending where you started works here.  Still "dug", not "dog"?  Makes it a bit confusing since now I have to wonder what "dug" may be slang for.  I do think regular old "dog" would work better.  Maybe it's a language thing that I just don't get.

There's a lot of resentment and self-recrimination built into this piece, along with that feeling of being stuck in a life that you made, and now seem to regret.  Speaks to a failing marriage that only the dog seems to understand. I'm not sure how much you may want to work on this one, as it seems you just needed to get it off your chest.

Might as well keep getting on with it, as they say... Thanks for the read,
Mark
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#3
Hi Mark, thanks for taking the time to comment
Yes it's very much a maudlin ramble, life ain't so bad!
Ill take on board your suggestions
Its great to get feedback and see what others take from the poem
Newbie
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#4
(05-30-2021, 01:05 PM)newbie Wrote:  Even the dug knows we're not compatible
How can that sideways look from your year old rescue
Splayed in one of his countless hair shedding comfort zones
Mean so much as I exit the indoors to the garden
For the all too frequent cigar and drink
Fuck it
My space I say

I work amidst the virus
Every other cunt has the luxury of zoom and work from home
Another reminder of my wasted youth and potential potential
I am working class 
Like it or fucking lump it
A key worker 
Applaud me you sighs

I'll build a fucking bar out here 
Countless hours planning 
Staring at the weeds
Not that they bother me 
Natures misunderstood 
Non conforming 
A garden bar won't solve this problem 
Plough what you will into it.

It's been a year and a half to remember 
A jab in the arm
A cure all
Dependant on how I react
This could be the best time of my life 
But for my children?
And the memories of a half filled parentage
With the vow of mine won't have that 
All thoughts in the world don't excuse a parents' purpose 

Back in from the garden to the gaff
Where my doubts can smoulder on 
That's where the happiness must lie
And only the dug they wanted knows what's what

Hi newbie, first off this isn't maudlin at all.  Angry, yes, but never maudlin.  You have a very authentic voice in this poem.

I did lose you once I got to the lines I highlighted.  I have a vague sense of what you are saying, but it's hard to follow.
"Poetry is the rhythmic, inevitably narrative, movement from an overclothed blindness to a naked vision."  Dylan Thomas
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#5
Hi Tranquility base and many thanks for your feedback,
I can see how this poem is hard to follow,
I never spent much time reflecting on it before posting
It was very much written 'in the moment' lol (I'd had a few scoops!)
I think it does serve as a snapshot of lockdown though and I should try and tighten it up
I've been enjoying reading the poetry on here
Think I was a little too keen to post something!
Newbie
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#6
(05-31-2021, 06:45 PM)newbie Wrote:  Hi Tranquility base and many thanks for your feedback,
I can see how this poem is hard to follow,
I never spent much time reflecting on it before posting
It was very much written 'in the moment' lol (I'd had a few scoops!)
I think it does serve as a snapshot of lockdown though and I should try and tighten it up
I've been enjoying reading the poetry on here
Think I was a little too keen to post something!
Newbie

Nothing wrong with writing "in the moment" and then leaving it alone.  Although this site, by its very nature, pushes you to edit, it's also possible to over edit and lose the original energy of the poem. 

You never explained "dug" instead of "dog".  Is that slang or your own way of referencing it?
"Poetry is the rhythmic, inevitably narrative, movement from an overclothed blindness to a naked vision."  Dylan Thomas
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#7
Yes Tranquility, dug is just slang for dog.
The term cunt could also be misconstrued, in this context it is not intended to be offensive it just means person.
I do think this poem will benefit from an edit. I'll post a revised effort when I can.
Thanks again for the feedback.
Newbie
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#8
(05-30-2021, 01:05 PM)newbie Wrote:  The dog knows.
Held prisoner by the despondent eyes of
our rescue
I escape to my garden
with a contraband of cigars and alcohol              just "with contraband of cigars and alcohol". (just dropped the "a")

Garden pubs occupy my thoughts                      what about "My thoughts occupy garden pubs" instead?
embargoed beer with friends
gathering freely with a reignited liberty              "in" instead of "with a" ?
I exhale at the weeds
they thrive in our absence                                 "that"
natures non conformers                                    nature's

From my garden I concede indoors                    I don't think "concede" works here.  "surrender"?  
an acquiescing hostage hold                              acquiescent ?
where doubts smoulder
and happiness lies                                           "and happiness must lie"  (I liked the resistance to this conclusion in the original so I added the "must")
The dog knows a lockdown when he sees it.

Hi again newbie, this is quite a rewrite.  I miss the plain speaking of the original but this is a good distillation and reads as such.
"Poetry is the rhythmic, inevitably narrative, movement from an overclothed blindness to a naked vision."  Dylan Thomas
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#9
Thanks again Tqb for your further input, as you may see I've taken some of your advice in what i doubt will be my finished version. Can't say I'm fully happy with outcome and may well have abandoned my first effort if it wasn't for the ethos of edit and improve that this site encourages. I’ll keep working away at it.
I can humourously describe my first effort as dogshit lol! Haphazardly traipsed over this site's welcome mat!
Although my latest edit better reflects what I am trying to convey its still uncertain if a turd can be polished!
Newbie
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#10
(06-03-2021, 04:06 AM)newbie Wrote:  Although my latest edit better reflects what I am trying to convey its still uncertain if a turd can be polished!
Newbie

If I found this on the road, I'd have it made into a ring  Smile  Anyway, heck of a rewrite.
"Poetry is the rhythmic, inevitably narrative, movement from an overclothed blindness to a naked vision."  Dylan Thomas
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#11
[New version moved to Moderate forum for further feedback with poet’s permission.] Thumbsup
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara 
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#12
(05-30-2021, 01:05 PM)newbie Wrote:  The dog knows.

Held prisoner by the despondent eyes of
our rescue I imagine the dog was a 'rescue' from a shelter, and his eyes are despondent from his time as a 'prisoner', but you are held prisoner by the dogs eyes because you are in a shelter waiting for rescue.
I escape to my garden
with joyous contraband of cigars and booze I don't think the contraband is joyous considering circumstances, maybe more like a fix from an addiction, like a decompression I couldn't consider a joy.

Released in daydream
of garden pubs, disembargoed beers, ii like the disembargoed beers
freely gathered friends all; what makes the friends 'freely gathered' just because it's a daydream and imaginations wander?
with a reignited liberty-
I exhale upon the weeds: I like the use of weeds after cigar.

nature’s non conformers I would think nature's noncomformers are the lawn grasses, the weeds want the yard to confirm.  I'm just being contradictive it's fine.
that thrive; exalted in
our absence 

From my garden, I wilt indoors; nice imagery
an acquiescent hostage keep 
where doubts smoulder and
our happiness
must lie I like the double meaning in 'lie'

We're in a lockdown.

The dog knows.  Does the dog wait for rescue in a shelter?  Does it look at you right now in your lockdown like you looked at him at the shelter.  Were they despondent then?  Does the dog see you now as another inmate in a new shelter?  

I'm not sure the dog knows anything, but I like the displacement of what you seem to know about the dog.  I don't have any advice but thought I'd try and reason against your word choices.  Not sure if I managed to do that either.  Thanks for sharing

 
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
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#13
.
Hi newbie,
not sure either revision is a step forward,
but then I really liked the opening line of the original.


So, if you'll allow a step back (but hopefully not backwards)


Even the dug knows we're not compatible.
How can sideways looks from your year old rescue,
splayed in one of his countless hair shedding comfort zones,
mean so much?

I slink out to the garden
tail between my legs
for the all too frequent cigar
and drink. Fuck it.
My space, I say

I'll build a fucking bar out here
Countless hours staring at the weeds
Not that they bother me
natures misunderstood
non conforming
thriving in our absence.

It's been a year and a half to forget .
A key worker. Every other zooming cunt
with the luxury work from home.
Applause ........................................'sighs'?
This could be the best time of my life

But for my children? .........................................I find this section very confusing.
and the memories of a half filled parentage
no vow of mine will have that.
All thoughts in the world don't excuse a parents' purpose .
A garden bar won't solve this problem,
plough what you will into it. ........................... like these last two lines.

I wilt back indoors, Where my doubts can smoulder ........is 'smoulder' building on 'cigar'? Like 'wilt'.
where the happiness must lie
A jab in the arm
some panacea

And only the dug they wanted knows what's what ... like the return of the dug, but maybe there's a stronger ending to be had?


Biggest problem, for me, was I wasn't sure who the 'we're' at the beginning was (didn't/doesn't seem likely it refers to the children at the end).


Best, Knot



.
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#14
Thanks for the feedback!
CRNDLSM, ‘freely gathered’ is referring to social distancing measures in place during lockdown (uk at least),
I really like your point about the weeds and conforming, I suppose its all a matter of perspective and who ultimately decides where they can grow.
KNOT, that’s a valid point, previous version got lost along the way and ultimately I decided to attempt again with more specific draft.
I’m not convinced this is the answer but I’m happy to leave it alone for time being.
It’s an attempt to capture aspects of uk lockdown and it’s effects. I was particularly aware of the number of people buying dogs/adopting rescues and the huge increase in people building garden pubs/summerhouses. I attempted to work these factors into poem.
Once more many thanks for taking time to read and comment; it’s much appreciated!

Newbie
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