[Untitled]
Capillary and dust
and a third ill-defined notion
bloodlessly vibrant like
a midnight thunderstorm.
Tongue thrust out like a leaf
slapped down by an invisible palm
and wanting, unreleased static
sizzles in its stem.
For a poet of moist particulars,
silica abstraction
yields insipid sophistry
and the taste of burnt wire.
With no on one to decipher
a telegraph in transit,
its caternary undulations
lead inexorably to ground.
[Author's note: The first stanza is always the hardest to substantially revise or cut when it contains the impetus for a poem that has wandered far afield of its promise, such as it is. There's a connection here between those first lines and the rest, which plainly cohere more closely with the first stanza excluded, but I don't know what it is or how to draw it out. As for the title, I want something that spells out S____ O___ S___, but nothing comes to mind. Gah, I've grown lazy even in this.]
and a third ill-defined notion
bloodlessly vibrant like
a midnight thunderstorm.
Tongue thrust out like a leaf
slapped down by an invisible palm
and wanting, unreleased static
sizzles in its stem.
For a poet of moist particulars,
silica abstraction
yields insipid sophistry
and the taste of burnt wire.
With no on one to decipher
a telegraph in transit,
its caternary undulations
lead inexorably to ground.
[Author's note: The first stanza is always the hardest to substantially revise or cut when it contains the impetus for a poem that has wandered far afield of its promise, such as it is. There's a connection here between those first lines and the rest, which plainly cohere more closely with the first stanza excluded, but I don't know what it is or how to draw it out. As for the title, I want something that spells out S____ O___ S___, but nothing comes to mind. Gah, I've grown lazy even in this.]
Labels: poetry
posted by Moon | 9/13/2006 08:31:00 PM
5 Comments:
Moon, I am jealous. You are a better poet than I am. I have a poem due to be critiqued in a poetry workshop this very afternoon and I wish I could teleport you here to be my stand in.
Im so glad you're back. I found you while you were away and I thought maybe I had stumbled upon an abandoned blog. I kept checking back to see what happened to the tomato thief.
That was a nice compliment.
Yeah, May beat me to it. Thanks WLSW for the kind words. Straight feedback is hard to come by in this medium.
I looked at this poem when it first came up; I thought ts eliot garlic and sapphires in the mud off of your opening line. from the 4 quartets. were you so inspired.
thelrd in TEXAS
i'd be a fool ever to deny eliot as an influence. it wasn't a conscious choice or a deliberate allusion, but i've long been enthralled with the quartets, so i wouldn't be surprised if that's got something to do with something. thanks for the observation.
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