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Week 150 (December 29th-January 5th). Poems. Topic: *Picture Prompt
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M
(new)
Dec 28, 2012 06:56PM
I can hardly wait to see what this generates!
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M, that's a wonderful picture! Wow!Alex, I'm sorry but I disagree with you on this. I think this poem is brilliantly done. It's a lot of fun, filled with wonderful descriptions and is strikingly authentic. And that's a healthy mix for a cheerful poem. My favorite lines are as below:
Paint chips from the dusty chandelier/mouse nibbles on a bean/all dressed up and sloshing bordeaux and that cute little song in the end which made me happy! :) Happy new year to you too!
I love the poem, Alex! It was light and just really fun to read! I too love the line, "Paint chips from the dusty chandelier/ float down, down and beyond" it's magnificently wonderful. The repetition of the word down is great. It literally feels like you're going downward. Wonderful poem!
29disyembre20121443-1523
7woodpecker
Recycled Chandelier Tales
"Trust me, I'm telling you a story."
- Jeanette Winterson, The Passion
...
deleted so I can try and see if a mag or journal would take it. just ask me if you want to read it. ha, yeah right... :)
I think I went overboard. Someone throw me a line. :P
Wow! A stunning poem, Jim! The imagery just blew me away and let my imagination run wild. The lean, sharp form lends it such an easy flow and each stanza evoked different emotions in me. I know I've said this before, but your writing inspires me. I admit that this line really challenged my intelligence: ' I had three eyes
of rubies and a diamond.' I'l let the other readers interpret it for themselves and in the meantime try to figure that out myself. It is hard for me to pick out a favorite line since the entire poem just blew me away.
I am new to the group how exactly do you post a poem for the picture?
Just post it directly in the comment box like everyone above. Any poem that is inspired by the above picture works.
YouWhen ever I see your smiling face
All I can think about is loving you,
Years gone by young and old
Will be cherished forever more,
The cobwebs build but a light shines through
Oh how I love those webs,
With the touch of a hand everything's new,
SO whenever I see your smiling face,
All I can think about is YOU
Welcome to the W.S.S, Lola! I like your poem a lot! My favorite line is: 'The cobwebs build but a light shines through'. Very nicely done.
*Cobwebbed
cobwebbed chandelier hanging over a
cobwebbed corpse. the room devoid
of light, but full of the
spirits
left behind by the murdered
and the lost.
unable to find
their way home
again.
Thanks, Ajay and Kggelen (interesting name). So not over the top? :)Welcome, Lola! Hope you have fun here! I'm one of the unpredictable visitors/members. :)
M, your photo is amazing!
M, it seems that your eye for detail and beauty serves you just as well in the world of photography. You are as talented with a camera as you are with words.Al, your poem is light, happy and clever. It is different from your usual, darker writing and very well done. I particularly like the paint chips falling and saying goodbye only to be thoughtlessly brushed away. Your title made me smile, too! Great start to the New Year.
Jim, what an incredible tale. I absolutely love the places your poem takes me to. The quote at the start sets the scene perfectly. As always, your writing is extremely tight and I think the concept that you have taken from M's photo is very clever. I really enjoyed the imagery of the chandelier passing down through the centuries in so many different forms. It's funny, you actually had me feeling sorry for a light who didn't reach its full potential! So nice to read, thank you.
Hello, Lola. Welcome aboard, you are in good company. 'You' is an excellent addition to this week's competition. I particularly enjoyed the line, 'The cobwebs build but a light shines through'. Nice writing and nicely tied to the theme.
Hi, Kat! Firstly, I miss the mustache but I like your new photo a lot :). 'Cobwebbed' really managed to find a way under my skin. I love it! I think your lean, sleek style fits perfectly with your subject and increases the desolation. My favorite lines are, 'and the lost/unable to find/their way home/again'. Beautiful!
What an amazing group of submissions-I think Al's photo prompt has certainly fired some great imaginations. Well done to each of you.
Kat, 'Cobwebbed' blew me away! Wow. The form, the thought behind the poem, all top notch! With Ryan's comment, beautiful.
Traversing the web, a haikuTaken in a time
far removed, the photograph
stirs minds and lifts pens
now. Dusty webs of
yesteryear transcend space, time,
oceans to inspire
anew. When captured
on card, a fleeting moment
became eternal.
Brilliantly done, Ryan! I like the form play, the easy flow of the poem, the employment of time and space in describing the photograph. I loved it! Of course, this is your field of expertise! :)
Ryan wrote: "Jim, what an incredible tale. I absolutely love the places your poem takes me to. The quote at the start sets the scene perfectly. As always, your writing is extremely tight and I think the concept that you have taken from M's photo is very clever. I really enjoyed the imagery of the chandelier passing down through the centuries in so many different forms. It's funny, you actually had me feeling sorry for a light who didn't reach its full potential! So nice to read, thank you."
Thanks, Ryan! I've shown this to other readers and got mixed feedback - it seems the personification thing doesn't work for some. I also posted this on Poetry! for critique, if you guys want to have a go at it there... or here. Always open for feedback.
I like your take on the photo prompt, Ryan. :)
Kat, that sounds like something from a Faulkner story. :) creepy.
I hadn’t intended to take so long to catch up on this thread! Jim and Ryan, thank you for your comments about the photo. I really appreciate that.Reading Alex’s “Mouse Songs” is like watching a carefully plotted camera shot in movie--looking down from the rafters on the merrymakers, following the flaking paint chips as they drift downward from the old chandelier. I think this is artfully done!
Jim’s “Recycled Chandelier Tales” is to verse what gourmet food is to cuisine. The first-person narrative seems surreal and contemporary. At the same time, the style has a vaguely biblical or prophetic tone: “I burn / with the last lightbulb / that may bring an end to this,” “I remember petals coming down, / and thorns,” and “Spiders weave more stories / than I can remember.” What’s not to like about this writing?
My favorite line in Lola’s passionate “You” is “Oh how I love those webs . . .” Very nice! Oh, and please accept my belated welcome to the W.S.S.
Kat’s “Cobwebbed,” a poem about “the murdered / and the lost,” is like a verbal oil sketch.
In the 5/7/5 verses that have proven an addiction to several members of this group (and I won’t mention any names), Ryan’s “Traversing the web, a haiku” is a deft verbal portrait of an image in a photograph. “Dusty webs of / yesteryear” made me think of a line from Villon: “Where are the snows of yesteryear?”
*Ryan wrote: "Hi, Kat! Firstly, I miss the mustache but I like your new photo a lot :). 'Cobwebbed' really managed to find a way under my skin. I love it! I think your lean, sleek style fits perfectly with your subject and increases the desolation. My favorite lines are, 'and the lost/unable to find/their way home/again'. Beautiful!"
Ajay wrote: "Kat, 'Cobwebbed' blew me away! Wow. The form, the thought behind the poem, all top notch! With Ryan's comment, beautiful."
M wrote: "Kat’s “Cobwebbed,” a poem about “the murdered / and the lost,” is like a verbal oil sketch."
Thank you guys all so much. I want to hug you all now.
*huggle*
A Spider's Taj MahalI.
The lustre of his silk
had her in tangles. He could
craft intricate gossamers that swayed
with the flute of the breeze and stretch
under the dew bead's muscle. They'd split
honey bees to get drunk and set gooey traps
to net beetles. All was well until they entered
an underground well to drink from a river that
seeped from a fissure. Opportunity knocked
at the wasp's lair. They smacked their lips
and stung his mistress. The feathers of
desolation warped him, inch by inch.
II.
From the confines of a cave,
he gazed at the pulsing night sky.
He saw reflections of his long last flourish.
He hitch-hiked his way out of the forests
and settled into the attic of a cabin. Solace
arrived in the form of a chandelier. He clung onto
it the way it latched onto the ceiling. Four amber
moons lent him light and a faint amount of hope.
He weaved once again, draining life from each moon.
Not long now, before he would run
out of silk and burn out the light.
The texture of his loss will now
resemble a flowing white beard that
had seen a few good times along the way.
Memories will now be
the remnants of his monument.
-Ajay
Hi, Ajay! I'm happy to see you're writing again. I think the break has been a blessing in disguise - you are certainly back to form with this one! You've clearly put a lot of work into 'A Spider's Taj Mahal', your writing is very descriptive and the words you've chosen work brilliantly together.Once again, you offer some complex imagery and the story you tell is a pleasure to read. I love your line about splitting honey bees to get drunk but my favorite lines are, 'Four amber/moons lent him light and a faint amount of hope.'
Stunning, Ajay! So good that you are writing again, mate :)
They'll open at 0200 your time. The Goodreads site clock is set for Eastern time, so when you set the polls to open on the sixth, they prepared to open at midnight in California.
Thank you, Ryan! I'm really glad you liked it. Once again, thanks for your encouragement :) The credit goes to M's poem which inspired me to write this. I'm thinking of tweaking the second stanza, but too tired from all the travelling. Thanks again!
Mouse Songs by Al.Rambunctious fun! A perfect description of a party in its 3rd degree. LoL.
This has one of the best opening lines: "An artichoke hangs along a rafter/ that holds up the high ceiling,…" Loved it.
Recycled Chandelier Tales by Jim Pascual Agustin.
Jim, great angst and sturm und drang. Powerful imagery and an elegance in how it moves towards the desire for death as release. A very moving, and really, very sad poem. As you say, it is over-the-top in a way that reminds me of a child's temper tantrum. What brings it full circle, and makes it ironical is the brilliant last stanza:
I was meant for grandeur.All the pent up angst is released as hyperbole by a someone who is a chronic grumbler with bad digestion. I actually laughed at this. It reminded me, oddly enough, of the scene in Titus Andronicus where he cuts off his own hand. I have no idea why, but that's the image that came to mind.
Not this. Not this.
I read later in the thread the comment about personification. It strikes me that for people to simply not like it because of that manner of telling are… blinded by an idea of what they may have been told is good writing. If the personification works, then the writing is 'good.' If it doesn't, then it isn't good writing. It's like someone dismissing classical music because Wagner is boring. One of Shakespeare's sub-texts in Loves Labours Lost is the silliness of intellectualized word police.
You by Lola.
A gentle love poem, Lola. A good intro to this band of obstreperous pirates. Hello, and accept my very belated welcome to the WSS. I hope to see you jump in again.
Cobwebbed by Kat.
I had to keep re-reading this. Lean powerful and very evocative. I love the hint that the spirits are lost because there is no light. What a complex multi-faceted poem.
Traversing the Web by Ryan.
Excellent play on form! And a conflicting imagery of forever but of the moment. If I had to pick a favourite bit, it would be how you split the last line of the first stanza with the the second stanza. Somehow this sets up the entire poem. Brilliantly done.
A Spider's Taj Mahal by Ajay.
This was delightful! In what I am tempted to say is 'typical' Ajay fashion, the attention to detail brings the tale to life. The concise phrases and clear images. Loved it. Out of many lines, for some reason this one resonated with me: "He hitch-hiked his way out of the forests/ and settled into the attic of a cabin."
I think the second stanza is fine, but, since I know you appreciate critiques, I might be tempted to change 'could' in the last line of the first stanza to 'would'.
Nice effort, everyone, thank you for posting.
Thank you, Guy! Sure, I'l have it changed to 'would' in the revision.
Guy,Thank you. That discussion was from another group. :) But I am glad to hear your views on the matter. Often I feel quite the outsider there. You guys shouldn't be too nice to me, though. I might just get used to it.
You're welcome Ajay and Jim. Jim, it seems to me that the WSS tends to collect the outsiders. Why else would I be here, for example. And I know that I've had that kind of conversation with a few others here in the WSS. So welcome, outsider, to the outsider's group! LoL!
outside or inside always depends on perspective, whose barbed wire we dare to cut or leap over.
LoL! Of course! During the creation of my anti-economics course I teach, I realized that the philosophy of separating people between the deserving and the undeserving is fundamental to all tyrannies, be they religious or economic or political. And, strangely enough, I realized that the fundamental purpose of currency and banking is to enforce that separation. Money is literally, pragmatically, the tool we use to separate the deserving from the undeserving, and it drives all high level 'official' economic activity.
Groups change. For awhile, the Poetry group was an exciting place, and it may become that way again. Secret groups, though, seem to have different problems. They can be self-selecting for members who tend to think and feel alike about things, which isn’t a prescription for excitement.
Oh, M, inbreeding among the elite can still be hip!
:) forgot about this. and my attempt at sarcasm... hahahaha - only me laughing in an empty room.
Now I’m laughing, too, especially considering goings on in Le Hangar à Bateaux.
M, what's going on there? (ignorant Jim looks around... a bat flies past behind him)
M, what's going on there? (Guy, the ignorant bat, flies past Jim's backside.)
Decay, at a feverish pace, but I think the pilings are well creosoted.
Decaying matter sometimes has an interesting glow. Did anyone notice a bat flying around here?
M wrote: "Decaying matter sometimes has an interesting glow. Did anyone notice a bat flying around here?"hahahaha
The word 'decay' makes me nostalgic. Takes me right back to my first post in the WSS: a poem titled 'Decay'. I wish I'd written a different poem to start off though. Guy, your first response to my poem was 'Yikes'! :)
“Yikes!” is my first response to most of what I see posted in the Poetry group, but it never gets as far as the keyboard.
:) Hi, Alex! (your new pic rocks!)Haha, Belly! Of course not.
My sentiments exactly, M!
In a group like the W.S.S., you can be myself. I’ve gotten used to that, and it seems strange, in other groups, to have to be more careful what I say.
This “empty room,” it turns out, has some interesting people in it, and there’s a bat flitting about who has a wry wit.
