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message 1: by Chris (new)

Chris Bodor (chrisbodor) | 61 comments A very raw new poem written a few days ago. A rough idea that I intend to workshop and fine-tune. If anyone can take a second and read this and comment I would be very grateful. Am I missing something? Is my message clearly transmitted? Can anyone identify with my birthday boy self-reflective sentiments?

Wings Clipped
by Chris Bodor

Back in 1985 I had my wings clipped
High school diploma in one hand
In my other hand I held a time card
And during my too long tenure at the factory
I never soared too close to the sun
I never dripped too close to the ocean waves
I never flew at all
Because I had my wings clipped.


message 2: by Azeema (new)

Azeema | 36 comments I can kinda relate to this poem, though I'm still 18, guess I still have a chance to fly, but I can still understand the 'wings clipping' feeling for sure. I won't rant and bore you with my teen probs, but yes, what I can say here is that right now is the only time I can regrow the wings, otherwise it's gonna be too late... Thanks for posting this poem, made me put on my thinking cap! :D


message 3: by Chris (new)

Chris Bodor (chrisbodor) | 61 comments Thanks for the comment. You know ... if you and I both think this metaphor all the way through it begs to consider that wings DO GROW BACK and we DO FLY if we do not get them clipped on a regular basis. Bird wings are like fingernails and hair because they do grow back after they have been clipped. Maybe I might add that reminder at the end of the poem that we can fly again, if we chose not to get our wings clipped.


message 4: by Azeema (new)

Azeema | 36 comments Hmmm, exactly! Maybe you could add some thing along these lines...

... Because I had my wings clipped
As I held the clipper, realization struck
And now I soar to the sun
Drip in the river to meet the ocean
Now, I fly...

Something like the above lines maybe??


message 5: by Cheryl (new)

Cheryl | 500 comments I think that at some point in our life we do feel as though our wings have been clipped. Through the arts we get a chance to fly again through verse, paint, and music. I agree with both of you to add some lines as expressed by Azeema. Bring the poem full circle.


message 6: by Chris (new)

Chris Bodor (chrisbodor) | 61 comments Thank you Cheryl and Azeema. You have been my muses. Thank you for your valued input to help me flesh out this poem. I could not have done it with out you.

Clipped
by Chris Bodor

In the Summer of 19985
I got my hair cut and my wings clipped
High school diploma in one hand
In my other hand I held a time card
Chained to a work station
Unchained each day for
a thirty minute lunch break
And two 15 minute breaks.

During my
Too long
Two month tenure at the factory
I never soared too close to the sun
I never dripped too close to the ocean waves
I never flew at all
Because I had my wings clipped.

One day
During a moment of lunch break clarity
I planned the jail break
With Daedalus as my father,
I knew I had the gift of flight
It was time to fly away
From the prison plataeu
Hair began to grow
Wings began to grow

###

Any thoughts on this rewrite? Love it or hate it? Too long?


message 7: by Eric (last edited May 17, 2014 04:44AM) (new)

Eric Westfall (eawestfall) | 39 comments Chris,

These are actually two very distinct poems.

But first, a word choice issue. "I never dripped too close to the ocean waves." Is this just a typo for "dipped?" "Dripped" makes no sense to me in this context.

You never "soared" (Icarus image, wax wings melting)

You never "dipped" (too close to the waves, they'll catch you, pull you out of the sky)

"Dipped" is the better choice, I suggest.

Whichever version you go with depends, I think, on what you want to say.

The first poem says: "My diploma was my chance to leave the nest and soar, but I was already working, and so I stayed, never trying to escape, keeping my wings clipped." This is an end-of-life story, essentially. I had a chance but never tried and trapped myself in the factory for life (too long tenure).

The second poem is, to me, a one-eighty. "You" decide to bust out of jail and try your wings. Except...maybe you don't, because you leave us with the start of the jail-break process (wings growing out) but never finish the story. Did you actually try for the sky? Or, wings grown out, when you might have flown, you stayed in your factory cage, as a caged bird who could fly stays even though the door is open?

Some more word thoughts. The factory image is powerful, but "work station" while perhaps literally accurate, say in the context of an assembly line, carries with it an office connotation, I think. (It made me think of sitting at a desk, typing.)

Never having critiqued poetry before I don't know if it's appropriate to offer specific suggestions, so I'm going to do it anyway:

Chained to the line
Unchained each day for...

I realize the "you" of the poem is only 18, so perhaps two months is, indeed, too long a tenure, but in the context of the poem, it feels too short a time to realize what he was missing. If you had made up your mind to work in the factory, basically starting the day you graduated, or had already been working there, would you change your mind that quickly? Even for impatient youth (and 18 is decades and decades past for me) two months seems to short.

Two last thoughts and then War 'n Peace is done.

I don't understand the "hair growing" line. I understand from what you wrote above, but having longer hair wouldn't help your escape. Is it not more that feathers began to grow, so that wings could spread and beat against the air and lift you?

Is your intent to leave us wondering?

Right now, the wings are not grown out so you couldn't escape anyway. To me, there are only two alternatives to the new version. Either your wings grow out, making escape possible, but you don't know if you can really try, and you leave us with the will he/won't he question. Or they grow completely out and you launch yourself.

Or maybe I'm just over-thinking here.

My apologies if I've offended, as there was no intent to do so.

Just my USD .02.

Eric


message 8: by Jill (last edited May 17, 2014 05:54AM) (new)

Jill Lawton (JillLawton) Personally I really liked the original (albeit that I agree with Eric that "dipped" makes more sense than dripped).

I think the Icarus image is very powerful and obvious - and the time card clipper works perfectly with the "wings clipped" metaphor - I disagree with Azeema - Wouldn't add the realization/resolution bit - in fact I would lose the repeated last line and just end with
"i never flew at all" - short, sweet, poignant.
Just a thought :)


message 9: by Chris (new)

Chris Bodor (chrisbodor) | 61 comments Eric - You have given me a lot to chew on, and for that I am grateful. Catching the typo where I used "dripped" instead of "dipped" is worth its weight in gold. It is a revelation to see how much confusion I caused with a wayward "r".

Also, I agree that works station does sound like a office cubicle reference and I would be better inclined mention a piece of factory equipment or task such as "deburing room" or "lathe" or "drill press".

I will most likely change "Too long
Two month tenure" back to "Too long tenure".

The mention of hair is a reminder that hair grows and wings grow (as well as finger and toe nails) when we chose to stop clipping. The act of growing hair in my life is the choice of being an artist (hippie, free thinker, non-conformist) instead of a cog in the factory machine with a nice man's haircut. However, I know many long hairs who have worked in machine shops for many years to put food on the table. So, perhaps, the additional thing the grows out is redundant and unnecessary.

Thank you again for taking the time to read and comment on my work in progress.


message 10: by Cheryl (new)

Cheryl | 500 comments Chris 2,I think the longer hair is the human attribute of being able to fly. Cutting the hair turned him toward manhood and responsibility. He is not ready for a chained job but a chance to spread his wings in a more creative way, to be free to do more with his life. Just my perspective. As I said before, I liked it Chris 1.


message 11: by Richard (last edited May 18, 2014 03:16PM) (new)

Richard Atwood (trickyricky) Didn't follow the 19985.

Do follow the anguish of a poetic mind in a factory,
or any despiriting job anywhere at anytime.
Being 70, and I never found my place.
Never found solace anywhere.
The anguish to "work" and live in that HATRED unfulfilled, and in continual pain, has never ceased. And it is no better, that even on Soc. Sec., having never made any money to save any money... that the hell must continue: just to survive.
And wonder, exactly what am I going to do at 85?
While poetry hasn't paid for a pea's worth of sustenance.

Which has little to do with your talent, other than the thought expressed by the poem.
Be wise. Find something you love to do, and go for it as much as possible. (And even though I did -- plays, screenplays, poetry, novels, songs -- the closet is full, the spirit broken: the "world" goes on, and I never liked it. Never belonged.)

I wish you better. Find something besides poetry.


message 12: by Chris (new)

Chris Bodor (chrisbodor) | 61 comments Dear Richard -
Thank you for your comment and your concern. I would like to focus on the poem, so I will take your comment about 1985 into consideration. It is a typo. I meant to say "1985" instead of "19985". Sorry for the confusion. It must of sounded like I was referring to an area code! Thank you for catching that!


message 13: by Chris (new)

Chris Bodor (chrisbodor) | 61 comments Thank you Richard, Cheryl, Eric, Jill and Azeema - Thank you for your input. I could not of perfected this poem with out your input. Here is the version that I am sending to my editor for a special section called "How I Spent My Summer".

Clipped
by Chris Bodor

In the Summer of Ninety-Five
I got wings clipped
High school diploma in one hand
In my other hand I held a time card
Chained to a drill press
Unchained each day for
A thirty minute lunch break
And two 15 minute breaks.

During my
Too long tenure at the factory
I never soared too close to the sun
I never dripped too close to the ocean waves
I never flew at all.

###


message 14: by Eric (last edited May 19, 2014 02:47PM) (new)

Eric Westfall (eawestfall) | 39 comments Chris wrote: "Thank you Richard, Cheryl, Eric, Jill and Azeema - Thank you for your input. I could not of perfected this poem with out your input. Here is the version that I am sending to my editor for a special..."

Chris,

"dripping" has crept back in!

"I never dipped too close to the ocean waves"

Before you send it on, just one more thought and I apologize for not thinking of it sooner:

"I got wings clipped" is a bit awkward given the way in which the rest is written, and the rhythms you use. Perhaps "I got my wings clipped" (which fits with the poem seeming to suggest life-long regret for that decision). Or "my wings were clipped," which also suggests intent or at least acquiescence.

A fine poem, by the way.

Eric


message 15: by Richard (new)

Richard Atwood (trickyricky) (Just an idea; try a new perspective.)

In the summer of '95
my wings were clipped,
high school diploma in one hand,
time card in the other.
Chained to a drill press
each day, unchained only
for thirty minutes each lunch,
two fifteeners for break.

During my tenure, the
factory too long -- never
soared too close to the sun,
never dipped close to the ocean's waves
... never
flew at all.


message 16: by Richard (new)

Richard Atwood (trickyricky) Think you have something going there, "inside,"
Chris. Nuture it. Refine.
And read, read, read, read, read, read.
Only those others... can be a reliable, relative guide.
Though yours is the ultimate choice.
Kudos.

Rick


message 17: by Chris (new)

Chris Bodor (chrisbodor) | 61 comments Wings Clipped
by Chris Bodor

Suddenly summer
The beach began to beckon
But instead I got my wings clipped
High school diploma in one hand
In my other hand I held a time card
Chained to a drill press
Unchained each day for
A thirty minute lunch break
And two 15 minute breaks.

During my
Too long tenure at the factory
I never soared too close to the sun
I never dipped too close to the ocean waves
I never flew at all.


message 18: by Eric (new)

Eric Westfall (eawestfall) | 39 comments YES!

Followed by various cheers and huzzahs!


message 19: by Richard (new)

Richard Atwood (trickyricky) Sometimes it needs a rest.
You'd be surprised how it will look
three months from now. Some things for me never
gelled until a couple of years have passed, or months -- when at the moment, I thought I had it nailed.


message 20: by Mark (new)

Mark Ashley | 237 comments for what it's worth I like the original more than the revisions, "dripped" and all. I think it says what you want without being on the nose. The time card and the factory say it all without the the drill press and the chain. And even if unintentional I prefer "dripped" - Brian Eno says "honour your mistake as hidden intention".


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