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ShadowRider
Senior Member

since 2001-07-14

Posts 1038
USA

0 posted 2001-10-26 12:50 PM

The Alchemy of Fall

My other days somersault
   through the alchemy of Fall season
Youthful green turning brittle golden
   gravely reminded of cookie-cutter leaves
   that were once bound to stout oak
There are no more sublime eternities
   of the inevitable invasion of chalked winter
My hair, waspish in robbed, pained color
Under feathered crest wings gently folded
   perhaps never to feed on the wind again
   perhaps waiting for skylark's inspiration
Hush, hush the loud voice of dread
There is a calm to aging days.
Tomorrow,
    like a proud conquered lion,
        shall gently lick at my hand

Kevin Taylor
Member

since 1999-12-23

Posts 185
near Vancouver, BC, Canada

1 posted 2001-10-26 02:29 AM

Hi ShadowRider

I'm not sure about the title but that could be because, as a bit of a heretic, I carry a certain amount of baggage around the word "Alchemy". I'd have been more intrigued had the title been "The Alchemy of Falling (Leaves)"

I felt a little lost at the beginning line. I felt like I'd missed something... what other days? Not sure if days have ever somersaulted for me. They have done most everything else though.

I got thoroughly lost on the "There are no more sublime eternities..." line and so it is unfair to comment on anything thereafter.

"Brittle", though, has always been a favorite word of mine. I use it in at least 2 poems.

Your note regarding critique says "If i could only self edit, ~sigh~ ..."

One way I've found handy, especially on these types of poems, is to write out a prose version of what you are about to communicate. Make the prose statement very clear and use it to compare... like a sketch might be used by a painter.

If you just "write as you go" then this might not work. I'm sure that there are as many self edit methods as there are colors of fall

Kevin

"Poetry is, at once, what you get... and how you get there."

ShadowRider
Senior Member

since 2001-07-14

Posts 1038
USA

2 posted 2001-10-26 07:39 AM

The whole poem dealt with Aging…and experience. The 'Alchemy' was not the act
of changing leaves, entirely, but the metaphor for the changing of days into
golden memories, or treasured events. The 'other days somersaulting' referred
to the exuberance of youth, or just the happiness of yesteryears experienced.
I was trying to go for the magic of how youthful, naïve we are, but are bolstered
by strength (the stout oak), but how we shed G*d's allotted number of days
like a tree lives on, but goes naked each season.

The 'no more sublime eternities of the inevitable invasion of winter' I thought was
was a good way of describing how I no longer was in awe of growing older,
or afraid of it, because, like a chilling season, it is unstoppable, long, and
wonderfully beautiful to experience at the same time.

Enjoyed your editing tips and thank you for taking the time to critique

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