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Threads: 1
Joined: Jun 2021
the mists have come,
cattle-minded and dull.
the fog obscures street signs. i,
day drunk without my drink,
struggle to make my eyes focus,
forget where i am,
stumble and pull myself
along the rock walls.
i slip off my shoes, press my soles
to the chilling pavement.
a girl, in the silence
of four thirty in the afternoon.
a lady in waiting -
i am not. a lady in dread.
here, there. neither here
nor there. a bird sings.
it could be anywhere.
the bird was blue,
or maybe red,
or maybe there was no bird.
i do not enjoy this
half-boiled beggars call,
cup shaking between my hands.
a penny, an alm, a blessing.
my cotton-lined eyelids
turn to wool.
each night, this
incessant itch and i push
my palms against the walls
but they never tremble
at my touch.
i am clenched-jaw, lovesick girl,
sleep-sick woman i am —
i would love to help you with that.
i am trained to say it,
deep in my bones.
no worries, no worries,
your face will tell me what
to do next.
silent-raging woman, downtrodden girl,
neither here
nor there, but tying myself
with ribbon, with bows, like
a balloon or a gift,
an anchor to here
and not there.
clever girl,
cattle-minded, dreadful woman,
sleep-heart-home sick —
my soles against the pavement.
my palms against the walls.
why do these mists not relent?
uncover and unclear path
to a distant place and i,
face to the sun, taste
of honeysuckle, smell
of thyme, feet planted in the earth,
watch the bird who sings
its forever twinkling songs.
i am steady in the dirt.
my lungs are full of air.
associating.
i am ready to see.
Posts: 894
Threads: 176
Joined: Jan 2021
(07-02-2021, 06:57 AM)noraaajane Wrote: the mists have come,
cattle-minded and dull. much as i like "cattle-minded", it seems too abstract, what about "cow-brained"?
the fog obscures street signs. i,
day drunk without my drink,
struggle to make my eyes focus,
forget where i am,
stumble and pull myself
along the rock walls.
i slip off my shoes, press my soles
to the chilling pavement. frightening and vivid
a girl, in the silence
of four thirty in the afternoon.
a lady in waiting -
i am not. a lady in dread. i was really taken in by the poem when I got to these lines; maybe my favorite
here, there. neither here i guess i wonder if the "here" "there" adds much, but then later in the poem, these phrases come to have more meaning
nor there. a bird sings.
it could be anywhere.
the bird was blue,
or maybe red,
or maybe there was no bird. i think you should drop the maybe in this line.
i do not enjoy this
half-boiled beggars call, great lines!
cup shaking between my hands.
a penny, an alm, a blessing.
my cotton-lined eyelids
turn to wool.
each night, this
incessant itch and i push
my palms against the walls
but they never tremble
at my touch. i guess there could be some confusion over "they": your hands or the walls. i know you mean the walls and that's how I read it. very strong lines.
i am clenched-jaw, lovesick girl,
sleep-sick woman i am —
i would love to help you with that.
i am trained to say it,
deep in my bones.
no worries, no worries,
your face will tell me what
to do next.
silent-raging woman, downtrodden girl,
neither here
nor there, but tying myself
with ribbon, with bows, like
a balloon or a gift,
an anchor to here
and not there.
clever girl,
cattle-minded, dreadful woman, see my first comment
sleep-heart-home sick —
my soles against the pavement.
my palms against the walls.
why do these mists not relent?
uncover and unclear path this is the only line that seemed really flawed; who or what is uncovering? and how do you get from there to "unclear path".
to a distant place and i,
face to the sun, taste
of honeysuckle, smell
of thyme, feet planted in the earth,
watch the bird who sings
its forever twinkling songs. "twinkling"? only failed image for me in the whole poem
i am steady in the dirt.
my lungs are full of air.
associating.
i am ready to see.
Honestly, this seems like a very accomplished, well-crafted poem and I had to really hunt to find problems with it as a reader (but that's why we are here i guess). I really enjoyed re-reading it while critiquing, if you can call these few notes a critique. I would like to suggest the title be "dys/associate", so as to bring to mind other "dys-" words.
p.s. i like your all small caps style, a tradition in its own right
Posts: 703
Threads: 141
Joined: Oct 2017
.
Hi noraaajane,
enjoyed the read, a strong, consistent voice.
(Though less enamoured by the lack of capitals.)
I though the only major weakness was verse five. As TqB mentioned 'twinkling' seems ill-chosen (might you cut the verse entirely?) - in contrast though, I do like 'cattle-minded' and would not wish to see that changed.
A few cut and paste thoughts
the mists have come,
cattle-minded and dull.
i struggle to make my eyes focus,
day drunk without my drink,
i forget where i am,
stumble and pull myself
along the rock walls. ................. does it matter what the walls are made of?
slip off my shoes, press my soles
to the chilling pavement.
the fog obscures street signs
a lady in waiting - i am not.
a lady in dread. here,
there. neither here
nor there. a bird sings.
it could be anywhere.
the bird was blue,
or maybe red,
i do not enjoy this
a girl in the silence
of four thirty in the afternoon.
half-boiled beggars call,
cup shaking between my hands. ......... bit uncertain who the beggar is, would shake their cups between my hands work?
alms, a blessing, a penny
my cotton-lined eyelids
turn to wool.
each night, this itch
incessant and i push
my palms against the walls
but they never tremble
at my touch. .................................. same issue with TqB about ambiguity, but not keen on these lines.
i am clenched-jaw, sleep-sick
woman, i am lovesick girl —
i would love to help you with that.
i am trained to say,
deep in my bones.
no worries, no worries,
your face will tell me what
to do next. silent-
raging woman, downtrodden
girl, neither here
nor there, but tying myself
with ribbon, with bows, like
a balloon or a gift, ......................................... 'gift' seems a trifle obvious, any alternatives?
an anchor to here
and not there.
clever girl,
cattle-minded, sleep-heart-
home-sick dreadful — woman
i am steady in the dirt.
my lungs are full of air.
associating.
i am ready to see.
maybe there was no bird.
Best, Knot
.
Posts: 340
Threads: 204
Joined: May 2013
(07-02-2021, 06:57 AM)noraaajane Wrote: the mists have come,
cattle-minded and dull. Could get rid of the "and"
the fog obscures street signs. i,
day drunk without my drink, Maybe use "a" instead of "my" to avoid repetition
struggle to make my eyes focus,
forget where i am,
stumble and pull myself Perhaps lose the and and turn pull in pulling
along the rock walls.
i slip off my shoes, press my soles
to the chilling pavement.
a girl, in the silence
of four thirty in the afternoon. love these two lines
a lady in waiting -
i am not. a lady in dread.
here, there. neither here
nor there. a bird sings.
it could be anywhere.
the bird was blue,
or maybe red,
or maybe there was no bird. Chefs kiss so good
i do not enjoy this
half-boiled beggars call,
cup shaking between my hands.
a penny, an alm, a blessing.
my cotton-lined eyelids
turn to wool.
each night, this
incessant itch and i push
my palms against the walls
but they never tremble
at my touch.
i am clenched-jaw, lovesick girl,
sleep-sick woman i am —
i would love to help you with that.
i am trained to say it,
deep in my bones.
no worries, no worries,
your face will tell me what
to do next.
silent-raging woman, downtrodden girl,
neither here
nor there, but tying myself
with ribbon, with bows, like
a balloon or a gift,
an anchor to here
and not there.
clever girl,
cattle-minded, dreadful woman,
sleep-heart-home sick —
my soles against the pavement.
my palms against the walls.
why do these mists not relent?
uncover and unclear path
to a distant place and i,
face to the sun, taste
of honeysuckle, smell
of thyme, feet planted in the earth,
watch the bird who sings
its forever twinkling songs.
i am steady in the dirt.
my lungs are full of air.
associating.
i am ready to see.
A couple suggestions, but I mainly wanted to say I love this idea. It is relatable the feeling of being lost in thought, and realizing holy crap im on earth living and doing a thing right now. I am a musician w/ schizoafftective I often explain to folks that a cruise control often while disassociating, I hardly can remember my performances, I zone out at my job while somehow managing it.
ANYWAYS, you capture that feeling of waking up so well, the mist the covers ones perspective to the present so well. Its a great poem thank you for posting
--bunx
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
--mark twain
Bunx
Posts: 283
Threads: 62
Joined: Aug 2017
noraaajane,
I think this is a pretty strong first draft and the title is appropriate imo, but I do have some comments/suggestions below
(07-02-2021, 06:57 AM)noraaajane Wrote: the mists have come,
cattle-minded and dull. I like "cattle-minded". The use of "dull" doesn't seem to add anything though
the fog obscures street signs. i,
day drunk without my drink,
struggle to make my eyes focus, I like "struggle to make..." instead of the more immediate "struggle to focus my eyes" because it hints at the N simply inhabiting a husk of a body instead of being in control which I think relates nicely to the title... then again my understanding of how disassociation affects a person may be problematic
forget where i am,
stumble and pull myself
along the rock walls.
i slip off my shoes, press my soles i think the use of "press" remains consistent with the feel of this poem, because we don't really press ourselves on something that we're already pulled towards. so the use of press in this case suggests that the n is not only emotionally/psychologically detached from their environment, but also physically.
to the chilling pavement "chilling" seems kind of dry
a girl, in the silence
of four thirty in the afternoon.
a lady in waiting - i think you can omit this sentence from the stanza and not lose anything
i am not. a lady in dread.
here, there. neither here
nor there. a bird sings.
it could be anywhere.
the bird was blue,
or maybe red,
or maybe there was no bird. enjoyed this stanza, especially this last line. really gives that feeling of being disconnected from the world i think, and the short sentence structures so far seem to aid that feeling.
i do not enjoy this
half-boiled beggars call,
cup shaking between my hands.
a penny, an alm, a blessing. alms
my cotton-lined eyelids
turn to wool.
each night, this
incessant itch and i push
my palms against the walls
but they never tremble
at my touch. this line can be omitted imo
i am clenched-jaw, lovesick girl, may i suggest "jaws clenched, i am..."
sleep-sick woman i am — "lovesick/sleep-sick" seem too vague. i'd go more in detail
i would love to help you with that.
i am trained to say it,
deep in my bones.
no worries, no worries,
your face will tell me what
to do next.
silent-raging woman, downtrodden girl,
neither here
nor there, but tying myself
with ribbon, with bows, like
a balloon or a gift,
an anchor to here
and not there. enjoyed this and the above 4 lines. also enjoying the repetition of "here/there" since it seems to repeat with purpose
clever girl,
cattle-minded, dreadful woman, on the other hand, i find that the repetition of these similar phrases become uninspiring around this point in the poem, because you could instead be going into depth using detail that makes the reader feel these things about the woman.
sleep-heart-home sick —
my soles against the pavement.
my palms against the walls.
why do these mists not relent?
uncover and unclear path
to a distant place and i,
face to the sun, taste
of honeysuckle, smell
of thyme, feet planted in the earth,
watch the bird who sings
its forever twinkling songs. this may be my ignorance towards how dissociation happens and how it is experienced, but how does the N now appear to be in touch with their environment? honestly i'll have to do some research
i am steady in the dirt.
my lungs are full of air.
associating.
i am ready to see. Thank you for sharing!
Kindly,
Alex
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