Conversation with Orbs If they have the ceremony, far from people and the tractor comes sinking across And the sidestep men are more real And they dance the tortoise shell dance as he brings all the chickens, keeps looking back over his shoulder There is a window by my head There is concrete by my head There is a window made of concrete by my head You can give them a little sip, he says (he is not breathing quickly) his eyes are chunks of yellow quartz About me: somehow I hitched a ride with a Belgian trucker, crossed the border and you would have been perfect, I think, to explain what death is, and how to create stylish outfits under the cover of incomplete darkness Tracking endless routes of small white envelopes containing Lungs and Eyes and Coercion In building up his semi-inherent right to consume the deep fried scorpions of his hometown, the man Begins to take precautions: See him with his gun (that is really an oven he is busy polishing), he pulls oil bullets from his knee deep pockets filled in part by tundra But if you had any mother at all You’d have written your final will and testament, and it is scribbled centrally on your white bedroom wall, the interment camp graffiti of your illness
Don't worry, I wouldn't take offense to anyone saying they don't understand this. It is a little abstract, or oblique, or maybe even deliberately evasive, however I think a better question than "does this make sense?" is "what sort of response does this elicit from me? what ideas does it give rise to, what sort of feelings?" IMO, poetry is not a vehicle for exposition: in other words, it is not meant to make the same kind of sense as, say, an essay, or even a story. It doesnt consist of a introduction, thesis, and conclusion. It doesn't necessarily have plot, or characters, although it can indeed have both of these. I believe that poetry consists of three important building blocks: image, sound, and idea. My poems are meant (in other words the things that I intend when I write them) to convey a synthesis of these three building blocks in such a way that the reader takes away from them his/her own understanding of what the poem "means" and at the same time is able to appreciate the poem for its concise, controlled imagery and its careful rhythm and precise sound quality. I hope that is a sufficient answer, because otherwise I can only explain to you what the images of the poem and the overall idea means to me, but I can't necessarily tell you what it "means", as each reader (in my opinion) should see a different meaning -V
Hmm. I don't really know what to make of this poem. I understand what you say about just allowing the poem to convey its own meaning and take your own feelings...However (posh but), I think it is a little too elusive. The image of the yellow eyes, seems to be incongruent, as do many of the images. It's not to say I didn't enjoy the poem, I think it is authentic and heading in the right direction. I don't want to upset you, but I think the images are a little clumsy. We need to understand each element of the poem, if not the poem as a whole. It did have a nice flow to it. I read it, which is a feather in your cap, because I just switch off and simply do not read really bad poetry, so there is something to it. I think you need to work on it some more. Perhaps, do not consider this as the final result, more as an ambassador of what the poem is meant to be. The voice is good. I liked it. You have found your voice and that's three quarters of the battle with poetry, finding your own unique way of saying stuff. I believe you only have to tweak the poem, release the poem, set it free, it's too confusing as it is. It needs to be clearer. Yes good poetry is ambiguous, but no, this was not ambiguous, it was unclear. I hope you take this criticism with the good intent it is meant and when I post a poem, I hope you criticise it with the same intent and do not shoot the messenger. Anyway, have a nice day.
Apple, Thanks for the criticism. This poem is a draft, and posted here for comments. Your commentary is useful, and i'll take steps to add some transitions and focus the images to make it more precise and less unclear. -V
I like that it's haphazard. A lot of times when I write it's like that because that's often how our brain jumps around. 'I hear the traffic going by and smell the dander in the air as I sit my ass gone numb.' This is my moment now. That in and of itself IS pure poetry. Life.
Life is indeed the purest source of poetry. Behind even the most detached language of a poem is the ability to see life in a different way than am majority of people. Thank you for your comments Amber, -V
Stalk, glad you liked it, life is strange, and mine is as strange as they come. I'm interested to read some of your work, but looked around and couldn't find anything. PM me some links to something you've written? thanks man, -V
