14 responses

  1. Hi! I just wanted to tell you that I really liked the past few haiku :). This one is especially charming– I feel like the personality of everything shone within its tiny frame emanates something – along with the snow itself! I like this one a lot a lot! Anyway, I’ve got nothing today. I’ve been feeling especially out of touch with the world these days, but I do have something in the works that may be interesting. We’ll see. Stay safe and be well!

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  2. Patrick, my poem of the hour. Would you say my poetic quality is slipping a bit? Believe it or not, Keats,Yeats and Stevens remain my lodestars.

    Delusion

    All I know is that
    If it’s mine it must
    Be a superior thought
    Or I’d say God must
    Me grooming me
    To be the next Dostoevsky.
    Take today: I feel
    My influence solving
    All the problems of the world
    And everyone I’ve seen
    In the grocery store tonight
    Knows it—they look my
    Way as if they see a halo
    Round my head and why else
    Does the cashier card me for the
    Beer I buy except to see herself
    This savior by a name, adding,
    With a grin, “Does this work?”
    As she scans the largest tube
    Of K-Y jelly in the store.

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  3. So how about this one–written in about a minute—“autonomically.” Worthy of Dickinson? Alternate titles: “January Boat Accident,” “Titanic Redux”

    Hypothermia

    The ice
    About
    Is cold and bright
    My warmth
    Does not contend
    Its plight
    But slowly
    Goes with
    New delights:
    Last visions
    Of a summer day
    One final fade
    One touch
    One voice.

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  4. Thanks. I changed the title to “To Build a Fire” to give it more literary heft. Also toyed with another ending. I’ve already use “vision,” “voice” and “touch” in previous poems. And hit upon this:

    Last feelings
    For a summer night
    One final face
    Of God
    Of Love

    I try to avoid pushy religious imagery and leave that to the reader to fill in. Do you think a pantheist, secular humanist, or Zebediah Grey could equally go with this?

    The switch to “night” extends the Frostian patina of the rhyme though on a perhaps Dickinsonian mindset (cf. “As dying persons recollect the snow”)

    To Build a Fire

    The ice
    About
    Is cold and bright
    My warmth
    Does not contend
    Its plight
    But slowly
    Goes with
    New delights:
    Last feelings
    For a summer night
    One final face
    Of God
    Of Love.

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  5. Hold your fire! I had a couple of beers and this last poem sounded skimmy and misworded to me. I have longer, philosophical poems in the hopper I should flesh out. “Delusion,” however, I still like and consider near perfect.

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  6. Patrick, this is the first stanza of one of my longer philosophical poems I’m trying to flesh out. These can take days, weeks, months versus the one-sitters that make up most of my oeuvre. If you could confuse its author for any of the Romantics or even Yeats that would be a good sign.

    At Ginnybrook the clapboards curl
    On the promontory of a swamp
    Ages low and syrupy with decay,
    Black the drowned leaves and
    Likewise have I flowed with
    them and sank from Beauty into
    Time, and terror fled, never,
    Never to come back alone there, I swore,
    With this mind to Ginnybrook.

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  7. Thanks. This is the second stanza. Does the quality control maintain or am I losing it, you feel?

    But today I’m with a boy
    His mom says loves adventure, a kind
    That keeps the gloam at bay, hints
    At a frontier, all dangers from outside
    (Though no cougar attacks yet)
    Just our limit in squirrels
    Ten dead and skinned by noon.
    His age.
    Yet with such a sense of now
    The drowning leaves seem dumb
    For once. They are what they are
    And I am I, a separate thing.
    Can not this ken prevail? After
    20 years what better place to tell
    (We have all afternoon)
    And I will not be alone
    At Ginnybrook.

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  8. From a poem that initially took one minute to write to a poem that took 4 days to adjust. Solid enough now, you think? Debated 2 titles–“Avalanche” or “To Build a Fire.” But settled on “To Build a Fire”

    To Build a Fire

    The ice
    About
    Is cold and bright
    My warmth
    Does not contend
    Its crush
    But slowly
    Fades to
    Dream’s delight:
    Last visions
    Of a summer day
    One final fade
    To touch
    To voice.

    Like

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