Tomorrow Is October For Me Too

[rowens]

I put you in a sacred cup.
Like a child, I whine,
And cry,
For you.
Not old enough to drink:
To see into the eyes of a woman,
Grown, with pain.
What she tells me I cannot understand.

But I can understand well enough.
I am as young in pain as the child
They will not take to drink;
A pain as fresh, as the dead leaves each year,
After a glorious summer seen from the inside out.
Yes, from inside.

Because, I am the summer,
The sea;
The autumn, and its goblin's veil;
I am winter's cozy nook;
And springtime's drip Of Saviour's blood.

I am the child that lies within—
That even memories can't save
From the crooked spine
Of your blindness' path.
And you won't come to play with me.

[addy]

A bit cryptic, but thematically its strong. You've got a wonderful narrative voice. It was a great read

I put you in a sacred cup.
Like a child, I whine,
And cry, Not sure "cry" is a strictly necessary addition
For you.
Not old enough to drink:
To see into the eyes of a woman,
Grown, with pain.
What she tells me I cannot understand.

But I can understand well enough.
I am as young in pain as the child
They will not take to drink;
A pain as fresh, as the dead leaves each year,
After a glorious summer seen from the inside out.
Yes, from inside. interesting inversion of the image: faded summer, fresh fall

Because, I am the summer,
The sea;
The autumn, and its goblin's veil;
I am winter's cozy nook;
And springtime's drip Of Saviour's blood. I like this collection of imagery, although this last line didn't fit in as much as the others imo... it refers to a Catholic easter, but to what end I'm not sure. It ties back to the "sacred cup" at the beginning, but the rest of the poem seems more pagan and the title suggested an autumn leaning and not a spring one. Perhaps I am missing something

I am the child that lies within—
That even memories can't save
From the crooked spine
Of your blindness' path.
And you won't come to play with me. For me this is unfortunately the weakest line in the poem. You may need to rework this close... of course that's just my take

[billy]

I put you in a sacred cup.
Like a child, I whine,
And cry,
For you. not sure the 2nd and 3rd line do anything for the poem as they seem a bit redundant.
Not old enough to drink:
To see into the eyes of a woman,
Grown, with pain.
What she tells me I cannot understand.

But I can understand well enough. 'well enough' feels like packing
I am as young in pain as the child
They will not take to drink;
A pain as fresh, as the dead leaves each year,
After a glorious summer seen from the inside out.
Yes, from inside.

Because, I am the summer,
The sea;
The autumn, and its goblin's veil; reminds me of Christina Rossetti's Goblin Market
I am winter's cozy nook; loved the 1st 4 lines of this stanza.
And springtime's drip Of Saviour's blood.

I am the child that lies within—
That even memories can't save
From the crooked spine excellent three lines
Of your blindness' path.
And you won't come to play with me.

stupidly i read addy's reply and i agree it does feel cryptic, i see a pseudo catholic and pagan fusion thing going on. the narrative has an excellent voice.

i did notice the lack of caps in your other poem and the use of caps here.
i wanted to remark on the ee cummings style (i think it was him ) but didn't. i do prefer this format grammar-wise.

thanks for the read.

[rowens]

this is simply my take on poetry, i don't know how valuable it is in other feedbacks, and my take can be criticized too. 'fusion' is a good description. poems exist on a spiritscape that functions like an organism. sometimes poems cough, and jerk off, and die on the page. right? and there's the 'writing', and the 'intention', and they fuse into one spiritual organism.
i usually don't want my poems to run smoothly, but this one i did, so i offered it for criticism.
the speaker is a child, but it's a child that is a woman getting older, a world getting older, a civilization, a culture, a perception getting older. clinging, like a child, to its seasonal cycles, its holiday flavors. but we're looking at not simply each season passing, but all the seasons lumped together into different paradigms, and these paradigms themselves passing.
the criticism of the 'writing' seems right. and the 'intention' is this: the child is spirit; but as an organism, it thinks like an organism that can think. it babbles, "i whine, and cry". it gets testy and haughty, "but I can understand well enough". and it even tries to sound more sophisticated than itself, by saying "like a child" at the beginning, when of course it is a child. as for the ending, an 'intention' you're still welcome to criticize, it speeds up, it gets harshly matter of fact, and then it breaks down like the simple, lonely child it is, and pouts, "and you won't come to play with me."

[billy]

thanks for the insight rowens, though telling me takes away some of the mystique but for me
it was the mystique that made it good. when i read it again it will hold none of the "what does he mean" mean quality that draws me into into certain poems.

any chance of giving a bit of feedback to to a few of the other poets who post .

[rowens]

i can try to find something to say. i've read some of the poems already.

[billy]

that would be great

[rowens]

What I said doesn't take anything away from the personal voice talking to a specific person, which is why it was written.---I'm looking through all these other poems.

[paul k.]

howdy guys,

thanks for an interesting read!
i am no English native speaker, though this poem in particular reminded me of some Walt Whitman's writings (maybe because of a child image?).
didn't know if i got it right, maybe it's all about my scarce knowledge of English poetry.

looking forward to your new posts,
Paul

[Philatone]

I put you in a sacred cup.
Like a child, I whine,
And cry,
For you.
Not old enough to drink:
To see into the eyes of a woman,
Grown, with pain.
What she tells me I cannot understand.

...the contrast between the first and second line (one of authority vs. one of weakness in a way) really disrupted me, which may or may not be bad. The "you" is puzzling me

But I can understand well enough.
I am as young in pain as the child
They will not take to drink;
A pain as fresh, as the dead leaves each year, ....great line
After a glorious summer seen from the inside out.
Yes, from inside.
...who is "the child"? is it a specific one or a general, abstract one? who is the they? these characters are getting to be a burden of sorts

Because, I am the summer,
The sea;
The autumn, and its goblin's veil;
I am winter's cozy nook;
And springtime's drip Of Saviour's blood.
...this is the stanza that leaves me on an island. it feels distinct and separate from the rest and its meaning eludes me

I am the child that lies within—
That even memories can't save
From the crooked spine
Of your blindness' path....for all of the images used previously, this line was a bit of a let-down. it was abstract when i needed something i could connect to
And you won't come to play with me.

[rowens]

"from the crooked spine of your blindness' path" is the part that i never liked about this poem. The words could be different, and made better, but they would still be elusive, unless you consider theyre addressing the woman grown with pain. The poem read on its own doesnt have the benefit of the explanations I gave above. It's more emotional than intellectual, in a spiritual manner, it's a sentimental lament.

[billy]

Does that fact affect the read? if so doesn't it diminish the poem for everyone else but the author?

[rowens]

I guess it depends on what the reader wants. In an earlier reply you told me I diminished the mystique when I elaborated on meaning. I said 'fusion' was a good description of my take on poetry, because you used that word describing something else. But immanence is better. But that's poetry in general; so never mind.... These are the things I wanted to get feedback on, what's been said so far in the replies. Now I was wondering is it a stretch to link the 'you' of the first stanza with the 'woman', and see the whole poem as addressed to that 'woman', when it says "Not old enough to drink: To see into the eyes of a woman, Grown, with pain...", when she, or her life, has been placed in a cup, or vessel, by the speaker? As the speaker, her spirit, is lamenting that she has loss touch with that silly "child that lies within"?

[billy]

i was on about it still being elusive.

when i mentioned mystique i'm on about the mystery that holds a her or it. i wasn't on about invisibility

when you tell me what the poem is about it's more or less lost to me, any feeling of the meaning becomes too cold.
i suppose i'm greedy in that i want mystique but i also what to be able to understand the mystique that surrounds the subject. the mystique of poetry, or Monroe, i'm not sure if mystique is suppose to obscure it completely.

of course when you tell me what the poem is about i can instantly see what you me but i'm bound too. you telling me what the poem is about and showing me the poem isn't you showing me two things that are the same except to you and i agree, possibly to others.

the 1st line, now that holds and begins the mystique but then it becomes too elusive and the mystique fades into a puzzle.

i can see that its about your take on poetry, but i also see that it's extremely generic and could be about other things,

"this is my poem, it's about mother nature" can you see it?

[rowens]

It's not about my take on poetry. Since it was the first thing I commented on I was breaking down how I read things so others can decide if they think I take a warped view. You're right, it has a simple, general expression that could be taken many ways, or no way at all. What I was asking was my personal view of my poem warped past the point of anyone ever coming close to seeing it as I do without an outside explanation? It's a poem, it's not me, so somebody can tell me, "No, it doesn't mean that to me. I can't share that message you claim, even after you try to make it more clear."

[billy]

this is simply my take on poetry, i don't know how valuable it is in other feedbacks, and my take can be criticized too. 'fusion' is a good

i presumed that was what it was about. but what you're saying is "fusion is a good thing in poetry"
fair enough, it seems i got it wrong.

after some circumspective rereading (are they actual words?)
you ask the question;
was my personal view of my poem warped past the point of anyone ever coming close to seeing it as I do without an outside explanation?

the speaker is a child...was your take which i now remember. but in answer to the question you ask; it could have been about a few things, a more definitive core would have helped. and i think it still holds true that it felt too generic, a sort of unbranded read.

that said, i don't think it would take more a few words to give a strong direction to where you'd like the reader to go?

[rowens]

Above and beyond any more complex meaning I gave to this poem, it's a simple sentimental love poem written for someone. I'm not God, but in a sentimental sense in this poem, I'm more jealous than God could ever be. Because God doesn't exist, and I do. But if God is in this child then God does exist. Even if all he exists for is to share a bit of personal sentiment.