A poem

quincyk

I wrote part of this on Friday, and part last night.



Some of you may have heard, some may not, but an elderly woman was tragically killed by a bus in Cork on Friday morning. The bus in question was the one I take every day. Thankfully, I wasn't on the one involved in the accident, but it was shocking nonetheless. Take from this what you will.



The twisted, cruel sweet smell of death rises softly in the early morn
along the roads I've always raced only to realise I was not born
and now you're gone, a sordid mess, and so is he, but not
and so I sit in broken recollection of everything I've never lost.

the weeds skip along the pavements, the protruding waste of night
creeping in light shadows, forming dust patterns of recognition tattered over time
further still, the roof-tops gleam with a suspended moon in dead air
rolling down the hills of today, hiding from the sun's despair

the children rush in sleep, their mothers lost in dream
of high-rivers, humming prairies and solitude and everything else that is not real
accompanied by whirling siren, accompanied by thieves
who rise up in the stills of morning to carry death through the leaves

and so yes, old dear, this is what they state as meant to be
and no, sweet woman, there is no more, no word you'll hear, no promise you'll see
and yes, there was another, stifled by a sorry means
but no, dear lord, there is no end, we've just broken apart at the seams.

3cups

quincy, you're doing it again - trying too hard to be enigmatic for the sake of it. Write normally and concentrate on developing a structure and a meaning to your writing rather than stringing random words together.

Case in point: The poem opens in the morning time. However in order to be enigmatic you've introduced inappropriate references to shadows and suspended moons. Then you go back into night and refer to sleep, dreams, yet jar straight ahead into references to sirens (accident was in daylight) and thieves, which apparently (back to morning again) rise up and carry death through leaves???

Sorry my friend, apart from "and no, sweet woman, there is no more, no word you'll hear, no promise you'll see [realised/broken/forged?]", it's gobbledy-gook.

quincyk

3cups wrote: »

quincy, you're doing it again - trying too hard to be enigmatic for the sake of it. Write normally and concentrate on developing a structure and a meaning to your writing rather than stringing random words together.

Tbh, I'm not. The words I've used are, in my view, appropriate to the happening, and my own experience with the route itself.

3cups wrote: »

Case in point: The poem opens in the morning time. However in order to be enigmatic you've introduced inappropriate references to shadows and suspended moons. Then you go back into night and refer to sleep, dreams, yet jar straight ahead into references to sirens (accident was in daylight) and thieves, which apparently (back to morning again) rise up and carry death through leaves???

Perhaps it's unclear; the time-frame is based around the hours of the morning where daylight is breaking, but darkness is still there. Light is looming, but a moon still sits in the sky.


I fail to see how a shadow is inappropriate. And you've also lost me on referring sirens to day-light; a siren is a sound; it screams, be it day or night.


The dream is a day-dream; sleep is not needed.


The thieves are not a human entity asuch; it's the matter of randomness delivering death.



Perhaps the poem itself is too personal. Perhaps the images could have been more clear. Perhaps it was just a waste of time. Nevertheless, it meant something to me at the time. It still means something, I think.

brianthebard

I have to agree with 3cups, this isn't very readable. And if this is about that woman that was knocked down, then what does phrases like "only to realise I was not born" and "and so is he" add to that sentiment?

quincyk

brianthebard wrote: »

I have to agree with 3cups, this isn't very readable. And if this is about that woman that was knocked down, then what does phrases like "only to realise I was not born" and "and so is he" add to that sentiment?

*To realise I was not born is about the poet.



*So is he is about the driver of the bus.

brianthebard

But you have been born.

quincyk

brianthebard wrote: »

But you have been born.

You don't say........ Jesus wept.



For someone posting under the alias brianthebard, I find it bizarre that you feel everything has to be taken literally. If each line in every poem was taken literally, it'd be a world of intense boredom.

MojoMaker

Quincyk, that's what we mean about your work not making sense. Yes it's admirable to strive to be wordy at times, enigmatic at others, but all work - poetry or prose - ultimately makes sense, and has to make sense, that's where the talent in writing lies. Pieces that don't make sense, and by that I don't necessarily mean lofty pieces that refuse to make sense to mere mortals end up being collections of words with no real connection, and that, my friend, requires no talent whatsoever. Perhaps pause for a moment from your defence of the realm to take some real & valuable feedback onboard!

brianthebard

I don't really see what my username has to do with anything. That sentence doesn't add anything to the poem, which is why I asked you about it. I coudn't read past the first verse, I lost interest because of the way it was written and the attempts to be deliberately oblique. You had a theme and a range of emotions that were powerful and should've been given expression but instead you hid everything in such inane language that it renders the poem dull and pointless. Its a shame really.

quincyk

MojoMaker wrote: »

Quincyk, that's what we mean about your work not making sense. Yes it's admirable to strive to be wordy at times, enigmatic at others, but all work - poetry or prose - ultimately makes sense, and has to make sense, that's where the talent in writing lies. Pieces that don't make sense, and by that I don't necessarily mean lofty pieces that refuse to make sense to mere mortals end up being collections of words with no real connection, and that, my friend, requires no talent whatsoever. Perhaps pause for a moment from your defence of the realm to take some real & valuable feedback onboard!

Meh, it makes sense to me. I'm sure I can offer up a whole host of highly-regarded poems that to you or me would seem incomprehensible. Where doubt has been cast, I've attempted to explain, but it seems futile.

brianthebard wrote: »

I don't really see what my username has to do with anything. That sentence doesn't add anything to the poem, which is why I asked you about it. I coudn't read past the first verse, I lost interest because of the way it was written and the attempts to be deliberately oblique. You had a theme and a range of emotions that were powerful and should've been given expression but instead you hid everything in such inane language that it renders the poem dull and pointless. Its a shame really.

I was being sarcastic; I'm sorry. To me, it adds to the poem. If the way I write frustrates you, then fair enough - I'm sure you'll know not to read when you see my name in a thread from now on.


To me, it had a point. I don't see the shame, tbh. It's a poem. If it's good, it's good. If not, fair enough. It doesn't matter much.

MojoMaker

quincyk wrote: »

I'm sure I can offer up a whole host of highly-regarded poems that to you or me would seem incomprehensible.

Above all else, good writing is never incomprehensible though

I think you need to change who you're reading, it may be skewing your opinion of what constitutes good writing and clearly affects your production adversely, as you have admitted yourself.

But seriously dude, your prose was quite good, don't ruin that talent by trying too hard to be oblique and/or enigmatic in your poetry!

Oh yeah, and learn to recognise the indefensible!

quincyk

MojoMaker wrote: »

Above all else, good writing is never incomprehensible though

I think you need to change who you're reading, it may be skewing your opinion of what constitutes good writing and clearly affects your production adversely, as you have admitted yourself.

But seriously dude, your prose was quite good, don't ruin that talent by trying too hard to be oblique and/or enigmatic in your poetry!

Oh yeah, and learn to recognise the indefensible!

Depends on the reader.


And I read many different stylists, who are all unique in their own way. I'm not going to change that, though I see where you're coming from.


The poems are poems; They're just something I indulge in now and then. Nothing serious.