[brigits_flame] prompt - scale

[1stmate]

There is a trail out there with our names on it.

I do not mean this literally, though
the trees on that mountain certainly have
plenty of names carved deep into their skin.
Our names are reserved for necessary things
like passports and paychecks and sticky notes
on the leftovers in the fridge. We leave unsullied
the trees that line our trail, though they do not
return the favor: their roots ensnare our shoes
as their branches steal hats and sunglasses.
We've never seen other humans on this path,
though they must travel this way occasionally,
but squirrels and birds and that one snake
we named Joe Slither watch our tiny procession
and, on rare occasion, join the back of
the caravan as we scale the steep slopes.

There is a mountain out there with our names on it.

I mean this in a more metaphysical way,
spiritual and ethereal and all those other words
you laugh at me for using about a mountain.
Others may hold the summit, but we know
better places: we know of the fallen limb
that weather has yet to claim, the one on which
we have our first snack break each hike.
We know about the unexpected bench,
handcrafted off a small connector. We know
the best break on a short hike is the place
I named Elevensies Rock, and we know the best
lunch spot for a longer hike is what you call
That Rock Where We Always Eat Lunch On Saturdays.
Our claim on the mountain is based in knowledge
of its secrets, scrawled in redundant trail signs
that most hikers can't read anyway, cemented in
our love for those woods, that mountain, each other.

There is a world out there with our names on it,
and we will spend our lives discovering it together.

Comments

[bluegerl.livejournal.com]

There is a world out there with our names on it,
and we will spend our lives discovering it together.

Oh YESsss! What a lovely paen of praise to randoneering. There IS a WHOLE world to be discovered,
and I do love the naming of the places. Elevensies Rock, (aaah I know a place..we took our clothes off and lay in the icemelt water - in Yorkshire - Bare Bum Bottom we called it!) and Joe Slither - aaah the eyes are aware and awake, and so is the heart.

SUPER piece... Gosh we are welcoming back some wondrous writers.

[1stmate]

Elevensies Rock is named because the first several times we stopped there, it was for a snack break right around 11:00. And because I'm secretly a hobbit Tolkien fan. There has never been any nudity on that rock! Oh, I guess I can't say that; who knows what other hikers have gotten up to. None involving me, at least!

Seeeee? I wrote something happy! It is possible! Hahaha! :D

[bluegerl.livejournal.com]

Of course it's possible! Happiness can be found in the tiniest things. Sometimes that's all there IS to find it in, but it'll be there. I found a toffee paper down the side of my chairlast night, with a toffee in!!!! Happiness is teeth stuck together with an old toffee!

[1stmate]

*laughs a lot* You are a very silly beastie. Right now, my happiness is one of my sister's dogs, looking at me mournfully because I'm using both hands to type instead of petting him with one.

[writingmoments.livejournal.com]

So sweet and beautiful. I love how you contrast what we are told to value as important (documents etc) with bountiful nature that makes us truly feel alive. I can't find the right words to express it but I really enjoyed reading this poem. The ending is so happy..having someone to discover it with. What could be better.

[1stmate]

As you said to my comment on your piece, it's interesting what different people see in the same words! That's not a contrast I was making on purpose :) but I'm glad you saw it - I like it! Thank you for this comment. And even if you can't find the right words, there are never any wrong words in this space. :)

[innana88.livejournal.com]

I'm dropping in for an initial editorial commentary, but I'll be back with more detailed ConCrit.

I love the intimacy of this piece. It is gorgeous. I love how you repeat and progress the phrase 'with our names on it' to give the poem structure and momentum and to show the contrast between the intimacy of our names connected with the wild vs. the label of our names in the civilized world. Love it. Love it. Love it.

My only general "however" is that the line breaks at the end of these long lines seem: a) arbitrary; and b) to really make the reader have to trudge through a poem that seems like it should be much lighter in tone. You are often right on point with some of your line-break choices, so this is a very poem-specific critique.

I can give you more specific feedback about where the line breaks are happening in my mind when I come back if you'd find that helpful.

[1stmate]

And this is where you learn a big secret: all of my line breaks are completely arbitrary, and I just get lucky most of the time. It's about time that luck ran out! But yes! I would find that extremely helpful, most likely, so please do.

[innana88.livejournal.com]

Ahhhhhh! :)

That means you have great poetic impulses most of the time. They are probably less arbitrary than just 'gut', but without having a bit more of a concrete idea as to 'why' the break should occur there, sometimes it just won't work.

I really only got a sense of line breaks from my second Advanced Poetry Writing instructor, Joseph Lease (http://www.cca.edu/academics/faculty/jlease). Damn, we were so lucky to be able to get him as a prof at our school for a few short years. And I was so lucky that they decided to let me take the class for credit a second time just so I could take it with him.

This is a podcast of him reading some of his poetry: http://www.kqed.org/arts/profile/index.jsp?essid=20406

The line breaks are often as much of an auditory art as they can be a visual one, if not more so. You can hear them when he reads. Sometimes just tiny pauses before words.

And can I just say that when he found me on facebook and requested my friendship ten years after I'd been in his class and he'd left my school, I was so honored he remembered me that I almost threw up in excitement.

dodos rolling out the edit wagon,he pauses

[bardiphouka.livejournal.com]

On the subject of line breaks.

Well, okay..not just line breaks. Also stanzas. If you are going to write free verse, which there is nothing wrong with says he who writes little else, I suggest you remember that the title "free verse" (no I refuse to get earwigged by Free Bird) is a lie. Nothing is free. Writing in metric styles and various rhymes actually gives you a certain freedom that free verse does not. My problem is that when I start rhyming and measuring, my hands automatically tend to reach for an instrument.

So what is to be done? Well, one can write concrete poety, which is strictly for reading. Or you can actually read out the poem. Where are the short pauses? Where are the longer pauses. Than look at it again and say..well I know this is the pause, but if I put the break..here..it will be more dramatic.

I used to tell my students that poetry was about stories long before it was about emotions. I do love to hear (sic) you telling stories with your poems.