"january"
poetry by
kathleen
28 February 2002
10 comments
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the metal was tipped with blood
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on the nite i dreamt
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j_moody:
it *seemed* like a dream, right? the literal thrust you use could work, i'm sure but you might want to fiddle with similes or metaphors here... just maybe. |
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of a road dripping
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brantley:
Do you have a particular reason for spelling 'night' as 'nite' and 'moonlight' as 'moonlite'? I'm not opposed to funky spelling, but I'm always interested in the rationale behind it. |
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kathleen:
i used to lose myself in shakespeare, especially the sonnets. i adopted certain spellings from those early influences. "nite" to me is poetic in a more traditional sense than "night" . |
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moist like black silk-
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there was moonlite in the lampposts.
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my tires gripped the tiny rivers
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praying around the blood
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j_moody:
i'll need more imagery or build-up before "praying" works here. convince me. how is it "praying"? |
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kathleen:
i used the word "praying" in particular there to be a kind of precursor to using the word "flinch". i will definately fool around with that stanza. |
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flinching-
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trying not to stare at the sparks.
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maybe they could cut her out
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but how would they get all that blood back-
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while it was scabbing on the metal.
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brantley:
I think this line takes away from the very effective line before it. "but how could they get all that blood back" has a kind of gory, understated finality that doesn't seem to need another clause attached to it. |
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kathleen:
i like the line about "scabbing" because one of the main points of this poem is to intertwine the lifelss metal with a human being. i wanted the reader to visualize metal with the flesh quality of scabbing. i will try to see what it looks like without that line becasue i agree that the line before is a strong line. thank you so much for your comments, they are very helpful. |
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i wish i had not slowed down
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i wish i could wake up.
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j_moody:
a lot of powerful imagery to delve into. the horrors of rubbernecking revealed. i think you have *even more* to say, tho. i'm just guessing. |
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kathleen:
thank you so much for your ideas. in terms of how much i wanted to say, i toyed around with a longer version as well as a shorter version. i came to the conclusion that it was this version that said the most without saying too much. i wanted to keep it a poem that overall would be vague but also have some strong imagery. if you don't mind my asking, where do you think it might benefit if i added more substance? |
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j_moody:
well, the "scabbing" part could be made more plausible if just enough flesh references or similes ("my-flesh-like-tears" kinda stuff... "my robot like a leopard-print dress spread upon a nightstand" blah, blah) were included. the tires gripping around the tiny rivers could be expanded. i find myself curious about the asphalt, the smell of it, is it warm? is it slick & cold? does the road seem passive in this event or can it play a role? what about the side of the road? what about the buildings or trees? are they present and active? do they participate in the sense of "praying" or is it just a human being looking at a broken human body in an isolated example of wreckage. i know the experience can be very focusing and block out all the rest of what's going on, but sometimes poetry, like therapy, can open up all of these peripheral or hidden memories that flesh out an experience and give meaning. that's just my own bent. |
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Content © copyright 2002 by Kathleen Wilson. All rights reserved.