How Does Your Garden Grow?

He lived fifteen years in the city.
Grew used to old movies
And empty rooms.
Only felt sorry for himself
Early Sunday mornings
Before the day began.

And so, he’s not the writer Kafka
Crying over his own self,
Marking the grave with the crying
Of his friends....

The windows aren’t broken,
Though he remembers
The houses he grew out of.

Nothing ever got squeaky clean.
The books are never all in a row.
There’s always something left to do.
He is so disorganized in his thinking.

Yet there is fresh insight...
No novel today.
Hold tight. The visions always return,
But not in any predictable way.

The defects make it
So he can always see
The glass in the window.

What comes next?
Dragons. Realpolitik. Stay away from the strawberries...
The ground is tainted. Embrace your friends
When they so desire.
Halalooya...the alphabet is loose in the fields.

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 03/12/2021 08:23PM by petersz.

Procol Harum - Whaling Stories

Pailing well after sixteen days, a mammoth task was set
Sack the town, and rob the tower, and steal the alphabet
Close the door and bar the gate, but keep the windows clean
God’s alive inside a movie! watch the silver screen!

Rum was served to all the traitors; pygmies held themselves in check
Bloodhounds nosed around the houses, down dark alleys sailors crept
Six bells struck, the pot was boiling - soup spilled out on passers-by
Angels mumbled incantations, closely watched by God on high

Lightning struck out - fire and brimstone! boiling oil and shrieking steam!
Darkness struck with molten fury, flashbulbs glorified the scene
Not a man who had a finger, not a man who could be seen
Nothing called (not name nor number) - echo stormed it’s final scream

Daybreak washed with sands of gladness, rotting all it rotted clean
Windows peeped out on their neighbors, inside fireside bedsides gleam
Shalimar, the trumpets chorused, angels wholly all shall take
Those alive will meet the prophets, those at peace shall see their wake

I like this one, Peter.

A fine balance of evocative imagery and fresh, enigmatic detail, making an interesting, well-sustained character study.

A great closing line. I like the spelling 'halalooya' - haven't seen that before.

A couple of polishing suggestions (if you are open to them!):

You could delete line 6 [Before ...]. It strikes me as the lone weakling in this poem. Its main sense is covered by the line before, which also has strong assonance.

To keep your format consistent, use upper case to begin the 6th last line.

Cheers,

Ian


PS to Johnny: The alphabet will be safe enough in the fields, notwithstanding pillaging seafarers. No whales in the strawberry patch. Procul Harum Scarum, me hearties!

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 03/12/2021 05:26PM by IanAKB.

Thanks, both, Johnny and Ian. I often like musical accompaniment to my miseries, so Procol Harum will do. Thanks for catching the typo, Ian. Regarding dropping the line, for a while I've preferred the expanded, more Baroque version of things, to the minimalist versions that result from cutting out redundancy. I like both redundancy and ambiguity since they can contribute to richness. The danger, of course, can be obese poems.


Cheers,

Peter

I love this Peter. It has been a while and now I am recharged and hopefully back again! I miss commenting on poems most, but I must admit, there a lots of juicy poems I can't wait to dig into. Did I mention I like the title so so much? Well, now I did! Thanks for always being there!!

K.Q.

Hey! Even when you are absent, you are a presence. I read this at a public reading last night. It was well received. I found in reading it, the weakest line, from the standpoint of performance, was: ‘But not in any predictable way.’ --because it is too explanatory. I may delete that line at some point.

Peter

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 03/17/2009 11:53PM by petersz.

Peter, that was an interesting observation of yours about the line that didn't work so well from the standpoint of performance. Was that a response from some careful listener in the audience, or was it something that struck you as you tried to read the poem to best effect?

My earlier suggestion that you could do without line 6 wasn't based principally on it being redundant. My main reason was that I thought it a bit ordinary, compared to the special intensity you achieved in the rest of the poem. Just my subjective opinion.

The poem is yours, and you know best what it needs. If you deleted any line, and then put the poem aside to read afresh a week later, would the poem cry out to you at that reading to have the missing line restored?

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 03/19/2009 03:52AM by IanAKB.

Ian, re: the last point, I have had that happen...pulled a line and found it fight its way, screaming, back into its rightful place in the poem.

The note on the weakness of the line I mentioned came from me listening to myself read it in public and feeling weak-kneed embarrassment as it came from my mouth. No one else seemed to notice. But Pound is right, every syllable and punctuation mark in a poem must have a poetic justification, or it is rot.

I deeply respect your 'subjective opinion' since I know you tend your garden with care, so I always feel myself stubborn when I don't follow your usually sound advice.

amo,

Peter