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September - An experiment
| Critical Analysis #1 |
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September - An experiment |
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Not A Poet Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885Oklahoma, USA |
I do apologize in advance for the length. If you just can't stay with it, I will understand. I have sometimes been guilty of that same trait myself. September Come walk with me, just you and me, Our favorite beach beside the sea, That place where rolling surf and memories Embrace the shore, the sand, the shells and seaweed [Don't you think that's really what we need?] And watch the sunset wash the bold cerulean sky In gold and crimson flames and never wonder why, As cotton candy clouds kiss overhead, Their lacey, silver shadows gracefully floating by . . . Hesitate no more but come instead; I think there's nothing more that should be said. Though I knew her but in passing by, I'll remember 'till I die. The salty foam that slithers over rocks and sand, Curls around your legs and licks your feet then slips away Beneath the waves in solitude to sleep; The soggy fog that seeps through everything at hand, Drifting all around the ocean and the land . . . [Being there, a memory I will keep, An image of some former time and place I think . . . but truly I can't say] Lingers all around to warmly paint your face With vivid colors borrowed from the dying day. There we will know and understand The mermaids dancing hand-in-hand For unsuspecting lovers, yet-to-be, Then gaily laughing, slipping back to sea; There we will know and we will understand What might be found within this day, Its shapeless, sensuous spirit Flowing ghost-like in the breeze, Its shimmering, eerie glow to light our way To some enchanting moment we may seize. Though I knew her but in passing by, I'll remember 'till I die. And will we talk of time and space, Of force and mass and relativity, Or white capped mountain peaks and cobalt seas, And valleys dressed in flowered Sunday best? And is there time to talk of other things? [Like sailing ships and sealing wax, Or cabbages and kings?] Indeed I wonder, is there time to talk at all [My hair is turning gray and thin Although my waist is not at all] And is there time to talk at all, And time to talk at all? But of course there will be time To ask. But do I ask or do I wonder? Time to walk away, or run, to leave the peaceful shore, The crowded shopping malls . . . Time to ask for more. [But will my legs be limp and weak And can I bring myself to speak Or will my voice be thin and meek?] But indeed I've had it all before, Truly had it all before. And dare I ask, Disturb this pleasing mood? Soon I think there will be time, Time to ask, or wonder, what the future might include. But I have had it all before, yes had it all, From first to last, the worst and best, and in the way I could not understand until today; Had the fruit of love before the fall And it was good - exceptional, indeed. So what more do I need? I have had the scent of Spring, the taste of Spring - The days and ways when life begins anew - I have slept with, talked with nature heart-to-heart But still can't comprehend this complex thing. So how then should I start Composing thoughts to words worth offering to you? And what then could I need? I have felt the awesome weight of Autumn pressed Against the breast of Earth when all prepare to sleep - To sleep but dream of hope that she might keep Seeds with which to start once more The cycle like before, Splendid thoughts my simple words can but suggest. So what else can I need? And where then should I start? Shall I claim, I have slain the dragons of the id, Written words that softened hardest hearts to tears, Drank with kings and danced with queens And lived a thousand years? No, that's not it at all, it seems. No, that's not what I did. Then shall I say that when I looked around, I saw my life, sorted, typed in columns there before my eyes, And I hated all I saw, although I realize There's great subconscious need to columnize, To categorize and standardize, To rationalize yet *******ize [But I still refuse to be a line of numbers, Undemanding set of digits on a mound Of ink-stained paper folded, filed away.] So what more can I say? And what more need I say? Shall I curse [or praise instead] those powers Which bring despair whenever you're not near? Minutes spent without you stretch to hours, Each day is like a month, each week a year. Shall I battle Time lest it consume My strength and life in ways it has no right Or must I acquiesce and not presume And just go gentle into that long night? And the morning and the evening formed A nearly perfect day for us to see The ways in which our hearts and souls are warmed, Yet still the Fates ignore my fervent plea . . . Lived a thousand years? You question why I'd try to perpetrate that wondrous lie. I grow old . . . My hair is thin and gray, My arms and legs feel weak today, Perhaps I'll wear suspenders and start walking with a cane. Woops, was out for a long lunch when I discovered the misspelled cane  Hoped I would get back and correct before anyone else saw it. But Elyse is just too quick.[This message has been edited by Not A Poet (edited 09-20-2000).] |
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Elyse Member
since 2000-04-16
Posts 414Apex (think raleigh) NC |
hi pete. first let me confess to being very apt to abaondoning long poems without finishing them. im sorry, i just do. but, i did read this one all the way through and that must say something for the quality of the lines. now. on my first reading, i thought, what the heck, this is muddled and switching tone and form and subject all over the place. on a second reading, i am able to follow you more through most of this and so am not so puzzled. except from "shall i claim..." to "..and what more need i say?" what the heck, pete. it seems like you got distracted, wrote a coupla stanzas (and i still cant figure out what that word is you censored) and then returned more to your original theme. and, actually, i must confess i wasnt too impressed with the rest of those last stanzas. (except the last which i enjoyed, 'ceptin you spelled cane wrong) they seem a little close to cliche (its that damn time thing. you cant say anything about it without sounding like a copycat  )but. before we get to that weirdness, i think you have something interesting. maybe still a bit on the long side, some of the repeating could be cut down a bit i think, especailly when you repeat whole lines like "Time to talk at all" just be ware of that, and maybe see if you can condense some of your thoughts, the little mermiad section was nice, yeah, but is it needed? could you combine the best parts of it with the soggy fog (cool image) stanza? just to think about. now, about these brackets. im a fan of the aside, as i imagine you know. but, i think perhaps it might be better to assume a uniform tone in all of your brackets. some are funnier, witty, cute, and then others are serious, confiding. i think perhaps if you give them the same quality, they will seem to have more purpose and power. petie, i know you can do better than cotton candy clouds. you prove it in other parts of the poem. go! do better! now, let me say in closing how cool it is to put up something so experimental here where you know we'll be all over it like white on rice and a glass of milk in a snowstorm. ( ) and also, that i dont get the title. 'splain?? luv Elyse |
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Not A Poet Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885Oklahoma, USA |
Thanks Elyse, for taking the time to read and comment. I fully understand how you find it difficult to stay with a long poem. I am usually the same. I have studied your suggestions and I fixed the typo you found but don't want to comment further yet. Wouldn't want to influence anyone who might choose to critique, ya know. But I will answer later, if appropriate.BTW, I didn't censor the word. I guess the editor program thought it was a dirty word or something. It starts with "Bast" and fits right in though Thanks, Pete [This message has been edited by Not A Poet (edited 09-19-2000).] |
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Elyse Member
since 2000-04-16
Posts 414Apex (think raleigh) NC |
if, as it appears, people are gonna just be that way and not reply to you pete, hows about you go 'head and gimme an answer? pleeeeez?  luv Elyse |
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Trevor Senior Member
since 1999-08-12
Posts 700Canada |
Hey Pete, Just wanted to bump this up so it'll be top-side for me to critique tonight or tomorrow....or the next day She's a long one and don't want to have to be too abrupt with my critique so I'm waiting until I have enough time to get through it all in one shot.Trevor |
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Not A Poet Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885Oklahoma, USA |
Elyse, For now think "Stream of Consciousness." I have more answers but still want to wait, particularly now that Trevor has expressed some interest in commenting. I promise to give all before this thing dies. Trevor, I eagerly anticipate your critique and do apologize for making one soooo long for your to have to wade through. And I thank you in advance for taking the time and trouble to do so. Thanks, Pete |
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warmhrt Senior Member
since 1999-12-18
Posts 1563 |
Pete (Hi!), I'm sorry, but this isn't you, or the you I know. Of course, we all have the right to experiment, but, like the others, I don't get it...sorry. Kris "Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former." ~ Albert Einstein |
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mysticharm Member
since 2000-06-08
Posts 189Canada |
hi pete i'm not going to say I understand the poem, it sounds like someone who is trying to understand where all his time went but I could be waay off which I probably am lol "The salty foam that slithers over rocks and sand," ...the word 'slithers' doesn't do the feeling of sea foam justice, makes it sound creepy and crawly lol, if i had to describe it i would say it lightly caresses the rocks and sand before it returns to the sea or something similar "The soggy fog that seeps through everything at hand Drifting all around the ocean and the land . . ." ...the word 'soggy' somehow just doesn't describe dampness or moistness of fog, soggy gives the fog weight when it should be described in density ...the word 'drifting' describes a fog bank that continually is on the move but your sentence describes it more as settling all around the ocean and the land i like the poem pete, i don't quite understand it lol but i liked it just the same, wish i could offer a more intelligent response, the length didn't bother me, i was interested in seeing where it was going and as soon as I know i'll get back to you and see if i'm right LOL debbie debbie Think of saying "I Love You" as always being overdue. Love is a gift, not an obligation. unknown |
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Not A Poet Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885Oklahoma, USA |
Hi again Elyse, Well, you asked for it so here is my feeble attempt at an explanation, although I’m not sure it is really justified. I must first thank you again for having the patience to work your way through this overly long rambling essay. Rather than explain, I’ll try to set the mood. Then maybe an explanation won’t be necessary. Maybe you will be able to supply your own interpretation. Begin by imagining yourself alone, driving home after a particularly long and tiring day at work. In your case, maybe walking back to the dorm, still alone, after an evening class, probably had an exam or something else unpleasant. It’s mid evening and already slightly dark. Of course, you are consciously thinking of your driving, or walking, but still various other thoughts run through your head. At first these seem random but then a recurring train of thought sort of impresses itself upon the randomness. Now, consider that you have aged beyond your prime, middle aged or something (may be difficult for you to imagine). You know that your life had a lot of potential and you have achieved moderate success but true greatness has managed to elude you. Although you can still feel generally good about yourself, you realize that something is missing, you could have and maybe even should have been something more. There’s also some love and sexual implication but I’ll leave something for your imagination. This is the person I was trying to portray. These are the semi-random thoughts and ideas which might pop into the consciousness in this situation, while looking back on life from the autumn of his/her years. I think “stream of consciousness” is the term I recall from high school English class. The repetitions are there and necessary because that is how such a mind works. I think now you will understand the title also. Of course, there is the usual disclaimer. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. So there, in a nutshell, you have it, my friend. And thanks for asking. Kris and Debbie, Thanks to you also. I must admit that I was never satisfied with the first 3 stanzas. I was trying to set a rather light, romantic mood, within the constraints listed above. Some of the wording just never seemed to come out right. Perhaps I should just scrap that part and try another lead-in. But, I don’t seem to have any other ideas. Starting with the next stanza though, “And will we talk of time and space”, I actually liked the rest of it. That’s where the real substance, if any, lies. That’s where the speaker “spills his guts”, so to speak. Also, there is a little bonus in there toward the end Well, sorry it wasn’t a little better. But it was an experiment, after all. Maybe I'll try another sonnet Thanks for reading and commenting.Pete Imagination is more important than knowledge Albert Einstein |
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