Memories of Galway (edit 3)

[tectak]

Edit 2. Billy X 2,erthona

Galway trips to bodhran drums. The rhythm bounces bones
and massages the land into the flesh of those who stay.
Bromine brown, the home hearth peat hangs sepia clouds in reeking air.
Embalmed and gladdened by the smoke, kippered cousins drift like shoals
on Nimmo's south-east pier; fishers all, they shoot the craic, and judge the fickle sky.

The bodhran pulse, sound metronome of life, drifts wind-sheared from the shore;
mixing madrigals of wild excess with songs of shifting shingle and hissing marram grass.
A drowning sun spits gilded flecks upon the hammered pewter bay; where shadow-men,
cast long from black stone quays, flit broken-imaged on the flashing sea.
Then molten red, before the night turns round, ruby dripped ropes are hauled.

Bearded chains strain taught, pluck straight, and flick fat mussels into brine.
Anchors weighed, encrusted more than trust would choose, 'cept to a Galway man,
hang and clang against the heaving bows; the emptied harbour echoes with the sound.
The bodhran makes a maudlin mile, the sombre thuds afloat on dense night air.

A mile, a fractioned second's leap; but soon the boats will ply the tide and league by league
the fading beat will substitute for hearts of men. The Galway fleet is on the swell;
sure, all is well, boys. All is well.


Tectak
Galway
2004
In s1l5 originally was "ghuagach" meaning fickle. Changed to avoid cries of foul, on grounds of obscurity. It is not obscure in Ireland but we are not in Ireland. Irish readers please note. Put it back if you wish but help me with the correct spelling. The word I heard used on many fishing trips but the Irish argued the "h"
after the "g" until all were better informed but none the wiser. Then we came home.[/color]
This is an exercise in lyrical and lilting irish verse. There are way too many adjectives per stanza but it was great fun to write....you may enjoy destroying it!

[Erthona]

TT,

There are some very nice descriptions here, but in some instances it seems you are trying to pack five pounds of sausage into a 3 pound sleeve.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"The bromide brown of home hearth peat hangs sepia clouds to reek the air."

Although I like the descriptions, "peat hangs sepia clouds to reek the air" seems a bit awkward.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"along west pointing quays."

Generally when a sentence ends inside of a line, it tells me I have not lineated well, especially when it is not a case of enjambment.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
S3L2 I don't understand bringing the "to board." down to the second line.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To me, the elongated lines of the poem do not fit well the image of the "Bodhran". And although there are some images here, the overall focus seems to wander, and the mark was missed.

Dale

[billy]

Galway trips to Bodhran drums; the rhythm bounces bones
and massages the land into the flesh of those who linger here. strong opening lines that evoke another age. though if you didn't know what a bodhran was you could be forgiven for thinking it a place near galway
The bromide brown of home hearth peat hangs sepia clouds to reek the air. too much to take in, i want to use a comma though i know none are required when i was there the peat was almost black
Embalmed and gladdened by its smoked intent, kippered cousins drift in groups
along west pointing quays. Fishers all, they meet for craic, and to judge the fickle sky. should it be 'for the craic'?

The Bodhran pulse, sound metronome of life, drifts wind-sheared from the shore;
mixing madrigals of wild excess with songs of shifting shingle and hissing grass.
The sinking sun casts gilded flecks upon the hammered pewter bay, where shadow men,
cast long from black stone piers, flit broken-imaged on the flashing sea.you had me up to piers, then lost my enjoyment

Then molten red, before the night turns round, the dripping ropes are hauled the enjambment doesn't work that well in places, this being one of them, if you're going to make it lyrical let the line run on instead of making me pause. (jmo)
to board. Bearded chains strain taught then straight, to flip fat mussels into brine.
Anchors weighed, encrusted more than trust would choose, 'cept to a Galway man,
hang and clang against the heaving bows; the emptied harbour echoes with the sound. excellent ending to the stanza a galway man would fall in love with it.

The Bodhran jumps a nautical mile, the sombre thuds still heard through dense night air. for me 'nautical mile' isn't lyrical
A mile, a fractioned second now; but soon the boats will ply the tide and league by league
the muffled beat will subsititute for hearts of men. The Galway fleet is on the swell; substitute
Sure all is well, boy. All is well.


Tectak
Galway
2004
In s1l5 originally was "ghuagach" meaning fickle. Changed to avoid cries of foul, on grounds of obscurity. It is not obscure in Ireland but we are not in Ireland. Irish readers please note. Put it back if you wish but help me with the correct spelling. The word I heard used on many fishing trips but the Irish argued the "h"
after the "g" until all were better informed but none the wiser. Then we came home.[/color]
This is an exercise in lyrical and lilting irish verse. There are way too many adjectives per stanza but it was great fun to write....you may enjoy destroying it!

first off, despite my comments above, the language of the poem was almost beautiful. the word choices excellent though at time as you mentioned, rather a lot. at times i think too many. i'm not sure the footnote is worth it. after reading it i lose a lot of what the poem gave me and i'm left with an instruction. i like a lot of the imagery, though i'm not sure if the poem is about the bodhran or galway. probably because you went back to it. i am surprised no mention of guinness, black bush, or bushmills.

i did enjoy the read a lot. i could enjoy it more if it had a smallish edit.

thanks for the read (all jmo)

[tectak]

TT,

There are some very nice descriptions here, but in some instances it seems you are trying to pack five pounds of sausage into a 3 pound sleeve.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"The bromide brown of home hearth peat hangs sepia clouds to reek the air."

Although I like the descriptions, "peat hangs sepia clouds to reek the air" seems a bit awkward.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"along west pointing quays."

Generally when a sentence ends inside of a line, it tells me I have not lineated well, especially when it is not a case of enjambment.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
S3L2 I don't understand bringing the "to board." down to the second line.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To me, the elongated lines of the poem do not fit well the image of the "Bodhran". And although there are some images here, the overall focus seems to wander, and the mark was missed.

Dale

Hi erthona,
Thanks fo this. The kernel of this piece is where the seed germ lies. There is a lot of chaff. After the crits are in I will re-write. Points raised thus far seem to suggest that surgery to remove rather than reroute is essential. The bodhran beat continually referred to was meant as a "backround hum", almost ethereally all pervading. I noticed it on a couple of late fishing trips out from the old port. Galway is a dance/music city with the bodhran throb from many directions when you are in a quiet harbour. All points on board.
Best,
Tectak

---

Galway trips to Bodhran drums; the rhythm bounces bones
and massages the land into the flesh of those who linger here. strong opening lines that evoke another age. though if you didn't know what a bodhran was you could be forgiven for thinking it a place near galway
The bromide brown of home hearth peat hangs sepia clouds to reek the air. too much to take in, i want to use a comma though i know none are required when i was there the peat was almost black
Embalmed and gladdened by its smoked intent, kippered cousins drift in groups
along west pointing quays. Fishers all, they meet for craic, and to judge the fickle sky. should it be 'for the craic'?

The Bodhran pulse, sound metronome of life, drifts wind-sheared from the shore;
mixing madrigals of wild excess with songs of shifting shingle and hissing grass.
The sinking sun casts gilded flecks upon the hammered pewter bay, where shadow men,
cast long from black stone piers, flit broken-imaged on the flashing sea.you had me up to piers, then lost my enjoyment

Then molten red, before the night turns round, the dripping ropes are hauled the enjambment doesn't work that well in places, this being one of them, if you're going to make it lyrical let the line run on instead of making me pause. (jmo)
to board. Bearded chains strain taught then straight, to flip fat mussels into brine.
Anchors weighed, encrusted more than trust would choose, 'cept to a Galway man,
hang and clang against the heaving bows; the emptied harbour echoes with the sound. excellent ending to the stanza a galway man would fall in love with it.

The Bodhran jumps a nautical mile, the sombre thuds still heard through dense night air. for me 'nautical mile' isn't lyrical
A mile, a fractioned second now; but soon the boats will ply the tide and league by league
the muffled beat will subsititute for hearts of men. The Galway fleet is on the swell; substitute
Sure all is well, boy. All is well.


Tectak
Galway
2004
In s1l5 originally was "ghuagach" meaning fickle. Changed to avoid cries of foul, on grounds of obscurity. It is not obscure in Ireland but we are not in Ireland. Irish readers please note. Put it back if you wish but help me with the correct spelling. The word I heard used on many fishing trips but the Irish argued the "h"
after the "g" until all were better informed but none the wiser. Then we came home.[/color]
This is an exercise in lyrical and lilting irish verse. There are way too many adjectives per stanza but it was great fun to write....you may enjoy destroying it!

first off, despite my comments above, the language of the poem was almost beautiful. the word choices excellent though at time as you mentioned, rather a lot. at times i think too many. i'm not sure the footnote is worth it. after reading it i lose a lot of what the poem gave me and i'm left with an instruction. i like a lot of the imagery, though i'm not sure if the poem is about the bodhran or galway. probably because you went back to it. i am surprised no mention of guinness, black bush, or bushmills.

i did enjoy the read a lot. i could enjoy it more if it had a smallish edit.

thanks for the read (all jmo)

Many thanks billy.
The first comment needs a little explanation. To "trip" is to dance nimbly.
I will change the lineation. The image of "shadow men" is of course silhouette. The "cast long"(shadows/fishing lines) implies low sun. The flitting broken images are the shadows on the water. Sorry, it is a strong image but badly expressd."nautical" was originally "maudling". Should it go back?
The piece is about Galway the old. Galway the new is a different bucket of fish.
Although written in 2004 it was a memory from 1975. Funny thing, memory.
Best,
Tectak

[billy]

Edit 1. Billy,erthona

Galway trips to Bodhran drums; the rhythm bounces bones
and massages the land into the flesh of those who linger here.
The bromide brown of home hearth peat hangs sepia clouds to reek the air.
Embalmed and gladdened by its smoked intent, kippered cousins drift in groups
along west pointing quays; fishers all, they meet for craic, and to judge the fickle sky.

The Bodhran pulse, sound metronome of life, drifts wind-sheared from the shore;
mixing madrigals of wild excess with songs of shifting shingle and hissing grass.
The drowning sun spits gilded flecks upon the hammered pewter bay, where shadow men
cast long from black stone piers, flit broken-imaged on the flashing sea.
Then molten red, before the night turns round, the dripping ropes are hauled. this works much better for me

Bearded chains strain taught, pluck straight, and flick fat mussels into brine. did i say i love this line, specially as it is now.
Anchors weighed, encrusted more than trust would choose, 'cept to a Galway man,
hang and clang against the heaving bows; the emptied harbour echoes with the sound.
The Bodhran jumps a maudling mile, the sombre thuds still heard through dense night air.

A mile, a fractioned second now; but soon the boats will ply the tide and league by league
the muffled beat will subsititute for hearts of men. The Galway fleet is on the swell;
sure all is well, boy. All is well.


Tectak
Galway
2004
In s1l5 originally was "ghuagach" meaning fickle. Changed to avoid cries of foul, on grounds of obscurity. It is not obscure in Ireland but we are not in Ireland. Irish readers please note. Put it back if you wish but help me with the correct spelling. The word I heard used on many fishing trips but the Irish argued the "h"
after the "g" until all were better informed but none the wiser. Then we came home.[/color]
This is an exercise in lyrical and lilting irish verse. There are way too many adjectives per stanza but it was great fun to write....you may enjoy destroying it!

maudling works better i think. though should it be maudlin?
substitute still needs correcting (i can't believe i'm acting like a grammar cop
i knew what trips meant, and thanks for the explanation. many would have said google it i just felt that in this instant many who don't know about the revelry over there may be misled.

the edit though small improves the piece a lot as far as my opinion goes.

[tectak]

Edit 1. Billy,erthona

Galway trips to Bodhran drums; the rhythm bounces bones
and massages the land into the flesh of those who linger here.
The bromide brown of home hearth peat hangs sepia clouds to reek the air.
Embalmed and gladdened by its smoked intent, kippered cousins drift in groups
along west pointing quays; fishers all, they meet for craic, and to judge the fickle sky.

The Bodhran pulse, sound metronome of life, drifts wind-sheared from the shore;
mixing madrigals of wild excess with songs of shifting shingle and hissing grass.
The drowning sun spits gilded flecks upon the hammered pewter bay, where shadow men
cast long from black stone piers, flit broken-imaged on the flashing sea.
Then molten red, before the night turns round, the dripping ropes are hauled. this works much better for me

Bearded chains strain taught, pluck straight, and flick fat mussels into brine. did i say i love this line, specially as it is now.
Anchors weighed, encrusted more than trust would choose, 'cept to a Galway man,
hang and clang against the heaving bows; the emptied harbour echoes with the sound.
The Bodhran jumps a maudling mile, the sombre thuds still heard through dense night air.

A mile, a fractioned second now; but soon the boats will ply the tide and league by league
the muffled beat will subsititute for hearts of men. The Galway fleet is on the swell;
sure all is well, boy. All is well.


Tectak
Galway
2004
In s1l5 originally was "ghuagach" meaning fickle. Changed to avoid cries of foul, on grounds of obscurity. It is not obscure in Ireland but we are not in Ireland. Irish readers please note. Put it back if you wish but help me with the correct spelling. The word I heard used on many fishing trips but the Irish argued the "h"
after the "g" until all were better informed but none the wiser. Then we came home.[/color]
This is an exercise in lyrical and lilting irish verse. There are way too many adjectives per stanza but it was great fun to write....you may enjoy destroying it!

maudling works better i think. though should it be maudlin?
substitute still needs correcting (i can't believe i'm acting like a grammar cop
i knew what trips meant, and thanks for the explanation. many would have said google it i just felt that in this instant many who don't know about the revelry over there may be misled.

the edit though small improves the piece a lot as far as my opinion goes.

Gracious thanks, billy. Corrections applied. Still working on the massages line. It stumbles along rather than trips.
I think one more edit should do it.
Has ascerbic Leanne got another job as a panda at the local zoo. She eats shoots and leaves these days.
Best,
Tectak

[billy]

she eats, shoots and leaves...that more like annie oakly

i think she's busy with some personal stuff outside the forum, she has said she'll get on when she's got any free time.