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| Critical Analysis #2 |
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Locus |
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jbouder Member Elite
since 1999-09-18
Posts 2534Whole Sort Of Genl Mish Mash 
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The polished brass surround is cast a rich red gold. The subtle sheen of the black ceiling catches hints Of orange in dim flashes, dancing in harmony With the throaty whisper rising from the wood. Cross-stacked oak and locust crack and hiss in protest To many years consumed in moments. In its glow, He sits too close to the fire. Legs crossed, head down, Eyes gliding across the page in imitation Of flames skimming along a roughly split surface And winding to probe a new fissure in the grain. The same blaze that warms the room surely burns the man. Still he sits, unmoved like the brick hearth. A page turns. A piece of wood surrenders with a sickly rasp And crumbles, falling brightly through the iron grate. On cue, a squad of sparks rushes the open flue. As though roused from a narcissistic reverie, The flames’ defiant roar seems to dare the still man To stand his ground against their fury. He looks up. With ardent eyes, the man appears to contemplate The flames for the first time. Lifting his pen to a Blank page, he pauses, straining to hear some word lost In the last seething of the locust. Then I heard The locust say, “In this place, the fire serves you – But in the grand scheme of being, we are both fuel.” The polished brass surround reflected the movement Of his arm. The subtle sheen of the ceiling dimmed In the shadows not reached by the flames’ failing light. The man seemed to ponder the shrinking pile of wood Still resting by the hearth. With purpose kindled by The locust’s last words, the still man rose and walked away. [This message has been edited by jbouder (01-22-2008 03:48 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2008 Jim Bouder - All Rights Reserved | |||
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TomMark Member Elite
since 2007-07-27
Posts 2133LA,CA |
I have read several times and i like this one. Love the ending. Love the power in it. I'll read again later to make more comment.  |
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ChristianSpeaks Member
since 2006-05-18
Posts 396Iowa, USA |
The way you write creates very clear pictures in my brain. Thank you for that. I'm NOT a fan of long poetry, but here it worked well. I'm not sure, however, why the locust were in the fire. Was it just the sound? How does that work? Dane Girls like you always get to see Ireland. - Paulette Bonafonte, Legally Blonde: The Musical |
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jbouder Member Elite
since 1999-09-18
Posts 2534Whole Sort Of Genl Mish Mash |
"Cross-stacked oak and locust ..." By locust, I meant the type of wood. Not the bug.  Jim |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
This is so very good. I'm afraid I can't give it the proper time, or that I even have the know-how to return the favor of your wonderful critiques, but I'll be back to try. and wow. Me liked very much. |
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TomMark Member Elite
since 2007-07-27
Posts 2133LA,CA |
By locust, I meant the type of wood. Not the bug oh, Jim, you made the locust talk now you tell us that it is not the bug?!  Why didn't the oak talk? They should have a conversation to laugh at the thinker. Anything else is not in common sense?  love to read again. The polished brass surround is cast a rich red gold. The subtle sheen of the black ceiling catches hints Of orange in dim flashes, dancing in harmony With the throaty whisper rising from the wood. Cross-stacked oak and locust crack and hiss in protest To many years consumed in moments. In its glow, At first I read that this was a camp fire. The black celling was night sky and the orange was the moon. And the locust was THAT grasshopper singing to the ants. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I'm just not good enough to critique the construction, but it's okay if I ask about your choices, right? Why did you choose to break up stanzas (or are you briding them?) with phrases like "In its glow" "A page turns" And I wanna know why you chose to start that, and then stopped? and then, I'm a little curious about "Cross-stacked oak and locust crack and hiss in protest To many years consumed in moments." Hmmm. It's not often I hear anyone protest "to" anything--so it's an odd choice for me, unless that's a typo, which I doubt, because you are pretty meticulous. And also, I realize that capitalization of every line is perfectly acceptable, traditional, even, but it's just a personal preference of mine to not do so, especially when enjambment is utilized. (It just tends to draw my eye downward, and with enjambment, I'm distracted all the more.) I had to look hard for the nits, though, Jim. And they might not even be there once you explain. I enjoyed the wordplays much too. |
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jbouder Member Elite
since 1999-09-18
Posts 2534Whole Sort Of Genl Mish Mash |
You guys are killing me. Karen: quote: (1) I disagree and (2) Sure, you can always ask. quote: You might say I had a Gunn to my head. quote: Hmmm ... why do you think? Karen, I am certainly no expert in critiquing poetry. All I try to do is dig into the poem and recreate the poet's writing of it in my mind. Sometimes (like in Brad's "Strip") I latch onto the theme without identifying the intended objects connected to the author's allusions. Other times, I think I get pretty close to what the poet intended. Sometimes I get stuck on one word. After I've done that, I try to be as honest as I can about my experience and I hope some of what I relay is helpful. In my opinion, if you can write poetry, you can critique poetry. When you think about it, the processes of writing and critiquing are pretty similar. Some people like to count accents and decode rhyme schemes ... I like trying to see what the poet sees through my mind's eye. What did TM see? Some artwork I never saw ... and I thought that was really cool. When it comes down to it, I'm much more interested in hearing what others "see" in my poem than I am in explaining my intent. TomMark: quote: Obviously because the oak didn't have anything interesting to say. Thank you, all, for reading and for your comments. Jim |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
*grin* Okay. Now I feel comfortable saying that I think your new picture is "hot".  |
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TomMark Member Elite
since 2007-07-27
Posts 2133LA,CA |
The polished brass surround is cast a rich red gold. The subtle sheen of the black ceiling catches hints Of orange in dim flashes, dancing in harmony With the throaty whisper rising from the wood. Cross-stacked oak and locust crack and hiss in protest To many years consumed in moments. Locust making unpleasant sound on many years vs moment. In its glow, He sits too close to the fire. Legs crossed, head down, Eyes gliding across the page in imitation Of flames skimming along a roughly split surface And winding to probe a new fissure in the grain. The same blaze that warms the room surely burns the man. Still he sits, unmoved like the brick hearth. Fire is outside and surround the still man. and the author has a voice. A page turns. A piece of wood surrenders with a sickly rasp And crumbles, falling brightly through the iron grate. On cue, a squad of sparks rushes the open flue. As though roused from a narcissistic reverie, The flames’ defiant roar seems to dare the still man To stand his ground against their fury. The flame has a voice too. The still man is more intimate with the fire as being dared. He looks up. With ardent eyes, the man appears to contemplate The flames for the first time. Lifting his pen to a Blank page, he pauses, straining to hear some word lost In the last seething of the locust. Then I heard The locust say, “In this place, the fire serves you – But in the grand scheme of being, we are both fuel.” Again the locust's voice. and the man will be a fire( because he is fuel too) The polished brass surround reflected the movement Of his arm. The subtle sheen of the ceiling dimmed In the shadows not reached by the flames’ failing light. The man seemed to ponder the shrinking pile of wood Still resting by the hearth. With purpose kindled by The locust’s last words, the still man rose and walked away. Be kindled. The man starts burning as rose and walk away. The relationship of the man and the fire. Why other voices? and the still man listened only to the Locust? |
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Bob K Member Elite
since 2007-11-03
Posts 4208 |
I don't want to do my worst. It helps nobody. I'll try to take a shot at seeing if there are some helpful things I can say. And thanks again for your very kind observations. When I first started writing, I thought what I needed to do was begin at the beginning, work my way through the middle and stop at the end. I liked my Lewis Carroll then and I still do, but I've grown suspicious about adapting his advice, put into the mouth of a mock turtle, as a method for writing poems. You've got to wonder if the mock turtle even had a serious motivation for making a good tureen of soup. You've started here not at the beginning, but before the beginning; and you've given yourself the very large technical problem of what to do to keep the fascination level high until things start happening. My feeling is that PLACE is as vital in poetry as it is in real estate. You can't really sell a poem without it, and the poem frequently hinges on location! Location! Location! So you're not going off on a wild goose chase when you start to give us the "polished brass surround" and the "sheen of the ceiling." It's simply that the colors by themselves don't give us enough of a sense of place, and the noun "surround" is insufficiently visual to give a surface for the colors to be applied to. A "surround" is frequently the woodwork around a fireplace, but in itself doesn't give sufficient sense of placeness. If you'd have tossed it in after a little about the nature of the room's contrasting rose and cream colored walls, or the wattle and daub effect of somebody's faux tudor library, or the rustic western cabin where you're spending the weekend in the woods by yourself or something to give us set and setting, "surround" might carry the line well. It might also give us some feel for the "polished brass" aspect of it. "Rich red gold" is a phrase that is no longer useful for serious poetry. It has passed its "use by date" and needs replacement. It is communicative, but one of the unfortunate and unintended sub-communications is that the writer hasn't come up with a fresher substitute. The poem might do better to start with the second stanza. Forgive me, I know that you wouldn't do it this way, and you shouldn't. You need to find your own approach, but what comes to my mind is something like, He sits too close to the fire built of cross stacked Oak and locust wood, and can't help but hear Its hiss and crack of protest of too many years Consumed in moments. Head down, legs crossed, His eyes hungrily consume page after page. The same blaze that warms the room must surely Burn the man. He turns a page. A piece of wood Surrenders with a sickly rasp, and crumbles, Falling brightly through the the iron grate. Etc... I want to trim away as much as isn't a direct feed to the senses and that doesn't further the sense of an ongoing plot. It makes for a tighter and higher velocity piece of work. How that shapes up will determine what sort of ending the poem will be asking for, and I don't know how I can help you with that until you have some more focused sense of ending than what you have here. This ending is sort of a stand-in for a punch-in-the-gut or clear-sense-of-resolution-ending that takes the threads you've been exploring and offers a satisfying of sense of closure. The sense of closure is apparently derived from the rules of play, and they have been oddly enough formalized. This is more of a, and-so-it-was-morning-and-then-I woke-up kind of an ending. The poem is one worth being more ambitious than that about, I think. This is an interesting piece of work that can be considerably sharpened, and has good potential. Keep working on it. While the potential of the poem itself is high, even higher is the amount of craft-learning you can take away from this, simply by fiddling around. This is a really fortunate place to be for a poet who's learning, and a good poem to be working on. Thanks for showing, BobK. |
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carnyspook Junior Member
since 2008-01-26
Posts 15Kentucky, United States of America |
I feel like setting around a fire and reading. Many campfires I have sat around and know the talk of the wood very well. I am new to poetry so I cannot critique your poem. It was a little hard for me to follow exactly but I always kept coming back to the fire and I knew I wouldn't get lost. Good Job. |
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
Well, I thought this was great. My only problem (and this may be the problem with others as well) is that there are too many damn adjectives (and adverbs) here. The polished brass surround is cast a red gold. The sheen of the black ceiling catches hints Of orange in dim flashes. Oak and locust crack and hiss in protest To many years consumed in moments. In its glow, He sits too close to the fire. Legs crossed, head down, Eyes gliding across the page in imitation Of flames skimming along a rough-split surface. Unmoved like the brick hearth. A page turns. A piece of wood surrenders with a rasp And crumbles, falling through the iron grate. A squad of sparks rushes the open flue. He looks up. The man appears to contemplate The flames for the first time. Lifting his pen to a blank page straining to hear some word lost In the last of the locust. Then he heard The locust say, “In this place, the fire serves you – But in the grand scheme of being, we are both fuel.” The polished brass surround reflected the movement Of his arm. The subtle sheen of the ceiling dimmed In the shadows not reached by the flames’ failing light, the still man rose and walked away. If I can get back to this, I'll chop it up some more, but the idea is not necessarily to go minimalist here. The idea is get to the skeleton and then build it back up. Like I said, this is great. |
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jbouder Member Elite
since 1999-09-18
Posts 2534Whole Sort Of Genl Mish Mash |
Thanks, all, for the very good feedback. Bob, TM, SB and all the rest, I now see I need to do a better job "setting the stage" ... shouldn't be too hard a fix since, as Bob pointed out, my beginning (above) doesn't necessarily have to be my beginning. Brad, I'll do some experimenting with cleaning up the clutter. Thanks for the advice. Jim |
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