|i fish we fish jewels
“the birds must be in school,” he says, “they look
like children out at recess, see?” i nod,
amazed—but not by swallows helixing
aloft in arching sky—i gape at him
his seven years so dispossessed of wile.
bisque locks blow wild, the metaphor forgot.
he baits a hook with bread, casts out, naïve
that when he strings with beads they turn to pearls.
28 Jun 09
Rated 9.7 (8.4) by 5 users.
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do i find you?
I very much like the prosy poem but am not crazy about the title...though I believe the content is more important than the header...
im a bit lost as to what you find prosy about it. though since it is in pentameter with only a spondee here and there, you have given me a naive and unintentional compliment.
how would you title it?
thanks for the read. anything more specific?
Please don't get me wrong, I like the poem and I apologize for the prose remark...It's just not what I'm used to seeing visually from a poem structure-wise...titlewise...for me, it doesn't match the strength of the poem...could be just me though...
no apology necessary, ever. i appreciate your time and thoughts.
i wasnt mad. just at a loss for a title. need help. :)
Like the new title...it's more in congruence with the body of work...
thanks. without your crit, it'd have stayed shitty. i like the modified title better.
i like your poem yes i really do
it good is good indeed and so are you
Reminds me of a story my mom always tells about when I was four. While on a walk we saw a butterfly that was more colorful than I had seen before. I said "Look Mommy, he has his clothes on!"
"frondescent" and "bisque" do not work for me. They seem out of place with the tone of candor in the rest of the poem.
I love the title and the rest of this.
the word play imbued with the awe of childlike grace creates a simple space -- in this 'lil imagist poement we dive deep to come back with the jewels gleaming in our eyes -- the words define themselves by the nature of the poem giving the reader an active modulation -- I like it
welcome back, mr. noodles:)
aye aye, welcome back noodly man, we're still all mad here
and i've just been swallowed by a walrus.
what kind of beads are those?
frondescent is a science word. i don't like the way it sounds.
i'm not reading into this poem very well.
i like fishing.
stringing beads/pearls metaphor for simple action yielding doubleplus result
also reference to transcendence of simplicity
elegance of naivete
i like bisque, its the color of his hair. not blonde, bisque. truly.
you caught me on frondescent. not a science word, just a word i always wanted an excuse to use. you can tell cant you. gravid is another. i got brume in somewhere once.
chuckles, hello. thanks.
need to think. thanks all
eventide seems a bit sore. i preferred frondescent.
nice poem, noodle.
it's great to read a new poem by you.
Lovely write. Love the line breaks, "swallow helixing", and L6 in its entirety.
I, as with others, stumble over "eventide" --it seems out of place somehow...
ahm a givin up on de fancy wordz maam
kind of you to visit, sybarite. as you can see, i am not immune to it...
thanks for the comments.
Much improved with "arching"--lovely flow to this...style I aspire to.....one day perhaps...
i like your style. so relaxed, free, but you know what you're doing.
i hate asking personal things at the wrong time. but i was wondering if you'd post one of your poems. i think it was "On the Thermodynamics of Coffee" ... i don't know for sure, but if you have anything along those lines, would you mind posting it?
i hope i haven't been obtrusive. but you write well.
what obtrusive? im flattered. heres one version. it changes whenever i look at it. theres a million parts i dont like.
ewe pull duh strings bee-yawned "too
taut" end the beads brake free as beads
end day eat pearls in duh recession; dots
how wee get dispossessed of wealth fur
seven years of bad luck -- may-bee more.
never mind my gibberish though; dis is
nicely done -- a innocent buy-standing
pearl in a sea of wily whales.
noodles i'm confused, i didn't ask you about the beads! I think you combined mine and jenakajoffer's comments together! :)
bisque is all right now that frondescent's gone. much better now :)
yeah noodle get your women straight.
beads and frondescence have you mystified!
a charming poem, such that iam charmed. but not like i am three sisters ripping on the buffy thing, but like i am a prince who has shiny teeth and nice hair. it makes me feel good just reading it, the combination of form and lyrical entropy i suppose.
DeformedLion that is just about the best comment ever
Excellent! I love the imagery, I especially like his bisque locks! Hope he caught a whopper of a fish! This sounds like one of our old lost poets who wrote one of the best poems ever watching his boy.
I can't believe it, where did you drop down from???
I thought I have favorited your cul-de-sac poem, wasn't it a cul-de-sac, you and your son on bikes?
wazup with that
thanks grammarian. youre right.
hi isabelle. been busy with PhD thing. havent written a poem in 3 years. rusty. very.
sorry women. i screwed up. didnt mix you just lumped reply. bad form.
lion. i love your comment.
hi varun. i fond you.
dont u miss me
yes, wamblicante, ever so much.
i was only kidding noodles. =-)
any further comments or should i put this one to bed?
to 'B' ore naught too 'V'
the birds form seven,
; from wile-less years come;
fools looking over
; seæs...blue-covered ones
[t]HE[y] thought beads were bids --
; metaphoric skies
a bisque too many
; hair naïvely shed
for recess...is down
; there in the hollows
of the shallows -- that --
; are pearls [t]HE[y] shan't pass...
july 29, 2009
thanks for the inspiration, noodleman sir.
hope you don't mind my burrowing your
end sorey a-bout
'aloft in the arching sky' is oversaying, after the fine 'swallows helixing'. one of the heartbreaks of mature writing and editing is being able to cut the single nice sounding phrase in order to make the poem itself work as in complete spiritual unity. the spirit of poetry is its rhythm and texture, not it's 'clever'.
'so disposed of wile' is archly arty, in this case, since you're talking about a kid as though you were gossiping about him to other mothers.
'bisque locks grow wild' is not poetry, here in the middle of things, though might work as an opening line, were you in control of a poem.
'naive that when...' isn't english, and, broken by the line, isn't redeemed as poetry, especially when you complete it with the very passive to prose 'a hook with beads.
naive, that when he casts with beads,
they bait as pearls.