A Poem

pcwares

Siochain faoi bhlath


Raucous, rancid, riddled bellows of Unionist glare,
Twas they who trapped out tongue in forever-snare,
Blessed by the mass rock, beaten blackened tanned,
The risings cocked, nationalist fire re-fanned.

Sitting in a smoke ridden Council house in West Belfast,
Two brothers of the cause are tied to the Nationalist chair steadfast,
Numbered cowards become numbered addresses, Upon
The glorious parchment their soul caresses.

Yet dispatch arrives…,
Its darkness now and quiet controls ,As
Only the forever moon takes up its patrols,
Paid G-Men return from whence they came,
No longer will they walk our sullen streets of flame.

Sighs of inner relief are conveyed in silenced eyes fill,
Nervous sweats turned cold chill.
Together yet thought apart,
They’re motioned towards the lure of the hearth.

Wretched parchment is engulfed
Becomes crippled.
Shrivelled in flame.
Ascends heavenward;

Their Souls the same.

by Banus

county

another anti_british poem

BEAT

county, its a poem. You either like it or you dont, pure and simple.

I quite enjoyed it, well written...paints a picture.
loved it.

pcwares

I suppose i mused over the backdrop of the average soldier in the IRB/IRA. What i surmised from my few visits to the North was that a climate of action rather than intense study of the various cogs that make the facade of being a soldier exist as the primary language of communication.

The language, the history - the real history of collusion, circular and counter in effect, the reasoning behind each order handed down to the 'imagined' ground soldier in the 'imagined' council estate. Would this be part of the IRA cirruculum/re-education, a portloaise higher diploma course if you will. I imagined from chit-chat with the black cab drivers recruitment is based on circumstantial, clicky cosy chats in pubs where once in you, you have problems getting back out. Unless you leave the area.

These soldiers each have their own subjective experience of what it is to be part of the community they live in, their own subjective perceptions of the 'enemy' and their own subjective opinions on how to react to this threats. This belief system however is layered or caked upon their own instinctive value systems. So in my opinion to be a soldier in the IRA is a conscious denial of ones own value systems. The mental cloud of the ingroup constructionism paradign twists perception into an endless stream of reinforcing propaganda. Resultant effect - a ready and willing volunteer.

The point of this poem which i wrote driving around in a black taxi in Belfast is that when something as monumental ;in the lives of a peoples plagued by this fog which descends and lifts at the whim of GHQ; as the Peace Process or previous cease fire announcements -then and only then does their own beliefs flood out into their consciousness, becoming men capable of volition of destiny. Choice by circumstance.

Of course this subject is so intense, drawn out, at times cynically tiresome and banal, wide, traumatic that this poem and these few words are just a snapshot by a southener with no real experience of growing up in the North.

I dont subscribe to the words ive written - it was just a thought. A feeling which made sense, to me, in a poem rather that prose/story.

BEAT

You shouldnt feel the need to defend your work or yourself, but I appreciate the time you took to explain the piece and your standpoint on it. I feel you have a talent for writing...keep it coming. I'd love to see some more.

oddlyaromatic

I think you always gotta be ready to defend your work. You can't win everybody over, ever, but you should at least have an idea of how your poem rewards a reading by an ideal reader. And if somebody doesn't appreciate it, they should respect that defence.

This didn't really do it for me. After the first verse I kinda thought it could go either way.

Raucous, rancid, riddled bellows of Unionist glare,
Twas they who trapped out tongue in forever-snare

I liked these lines. "blackened tanned" didn't sit so well with me. I found the rhyming a little convient throughout. "Tied to the Nationalist chair" is a nice image, but the rhyme kinda cheapened it I think. It seems like your rhyme scheme forces you into expressions you wouldn't otherwise choose. Of course, all rhyme schemes do that, but in the great ones you don't even notice. "whence they came" seemed a bit too archaic for me. But I have been drawn lately to poets like Eva Salzman and Tony Curtis, who place a premium on ordinary, everyday words and sounds. I think it is a value I have contracted. Anything that sounds out of place irks the hell out of me.

"Sullen streets of flame" struck me as a shade too romantic.

There is a discrepancy between your explanation and your poem - the explanation is interesting, rational and intelligent. And effortlessly so. The rhyme and content of this poem struck me as less so, but with more effort. I think I know why though: "just a snapshot by a southener with no real experience of growing up in the North"

When you explained yourself you were writing what you know, what you feel. When you wrote the poem, you were not. Putting yourself in so many other shoes in one poem is really difficult, let alone the subject matter of the North. Making it rhyme adds a kind of atmosphere as though you've figured it all out and put a bow on it. Even though a close reading doesn't reflect that, the impression kind of persists.

The parchment image at the end was pretty dynamite, though. When it stopped being overtly political it worked. When it mentioned places and politcal standpoints I felt patronized.

Hope I didn't offend, latin beat clearly enjoyed the poem- and nothing I've said means I think you did wrong - but you didn't push the buttons in my head that I like a poem to push.

pcwares

...

the raven

oddlyaromatic, you gave a thorough and honest criticism, more than a lot of "people" can do; sincerely, good work.

pcwares

Thanks.

Well i had the billow sail raised and your salty coastal wind filled it and took it to sea to ponder on the critic.

oddlyaromatic

Eh? Confusing .

Thanks raven. Nice to see a friendly voice.

el_tiddlero

this don't do whole lot for me to be honest, "peace under flower" (lit) or even blossoming peace (which is what i translated it as) i don't think. To have such a positive title and yet such negative imagery seems confused. Regarding "Twas they who trapped out tongue in forever-snare" should this be OUR tongue.... makes little sense if its not....
i've read your explanation of how/where you wrote it and i understand the desire to take on subjects like this but in fairness i don't think you've managed it well. It reeks of an effort to explain a situation even you dont fully understand and at points it feels like you are in fact sitting in a taxi writing down random words as you travel around Belfast..... thats fair enough, but if its a stream of consciousness/let the words flow piece you were aiming for then setting such a political agenda right at the outset does you no favours.....
overall i found it difficult to read, tragically confused, way out of its depth and with no real point despite its obvious agenda.......
my advice would be to keep it simple, no one ever understood an idea that was shrouded in pretention and its wise to keep that in mind if poetry is an art you wish to persue and master....

pcwares

Brush up on your irish before making uneducated, thoughtless and foundless comments. -The fkin title is key - wouldnt u agree. It means ffs - A growing Peace. For gods sake you appear to be sounding off a contusion of frustration. No. it is storyboard - not a stream of consciousness. It is designed to get the 'romantic southern notions' evoked in the first part. And your reaction would indicate your also guilty of these romantic ideas of flyin columns etc and heroic Dan breen/tom barry/Kevin Duffy type heroics.

It is intended to a lengthy poem and is an unfinished work. It is intend to develop as our sourthern attitudes to the north become 'wiser'. And it isnt confusing and no its not out of its depth in my opinion. Although it is unfinished and still is in production. Its clear and theres not an agenda. You obviously have missed the crucial finishing lines. But your entitled to your opinion.

pcwares

el_tiddlero

i would have thought that a blossoming peace is the same as a growing peace, or close enough that it makes little odds, in fact blossoming would seem to me to be more poetic but thats just IMO......
síocháin ag fás would be a growing peace, bláth means flower..... nuff said faoi mo chuid ghaeilge is dóigh liom.....
as for 'romantic southern notions' i don't recall saying anything about notions of any kind about the north in any way... to be fair the whole situation doesn't hold any interest for me given that its pretty much just a fight over which end you open a boiled egg at all over again!!
pretty unusual to have "crucial finishing lines" in an unfinished work but i guess thats how i missed them.... they weren't written yet!!!

pcwares

The level of your irrational bs is outstanding. It would be more appropriate moved to your own thread.

Stroll trolling around my thread. You had your say.

pcwares

BEAT

alright, for furture reference this forum is not designed for arguments or name calling. It is here for people to post thier works and others to post thier opnions on it.
If you can not take criticism then it isnt wise to post on a public viewing forum. I am locking this thread and please take note of my comments for your future posting.

If anyone wants to attack anyone else take it to the thunderdome.