yield

[milo]

oh apple-picking once again
as if I'm reaching for a friend

and yet the laddered labor's endless
and I another migrant friendless

"oh sullen servant what's the matter
why can you not just climb your ladder

why must you always reach for more
the light, the dark or Pluto's shore."


another rung compresses seasons
the fungal earth that forces reasons:


the trunk, the hips each branch a jaw, Some
sex to push the apple blossom

and then there's Frost - the killing bite
merchant, peddler, murderous mite

Second is the idle thought
the mushy pungent apple -y rot

and yet another rung of drinking
to put to rest such labored thinking

"come scouse the pubs and let's get pissed
and put aside your stupid list"

and that is fine my thinking's slurred
I can't recall the portent third


I cannot make a thot for thee
I cannot make it to list three

I cannot climb the ladder more
cannot seek the light or shore

so I will lift my cup alone
and let it now unyoke my stone

as graphite yields to clicky keys
and wolfram yields to LED's


and I will yield to one of these
and I will yield to one of these

[matsunosuperfan]

oh apple-picking once again
as if I'm reaching for a friend     iambic tetrameter, ok 

and yet the laddered labor's endless
and I another migrant friendless   I find it distracting to have an extra syllable so soon. the complicated syntax of the second line here doesn't feel worth it. 

"oh sullen servant what's the matter
why can you not just climb your ladder  more funky rhythm

why must you always reach for more
the light, the dark or Pluto's shore."  not really psyched about the use of rhyme so far


another rung compresses seasons
the fungal earth that forces reasons:  this feels too compressed, you're starting to lose me / poem is beginning to feel like a riddle


the trunk, the hips each branch a jaw, Some
sex to push the apple blossom

and then there's Frost - the killing bite
merchant, peddler, murderous mite

Second is the idle thought
the mushy pungent apple -y rot  yeah around here I checked out, I gots no idea wtf is going on anymore and it sounds laborious and convoluted and I don't much care to know

and yet another rung of drinking
to put to rest such labored thinking

"come scouse the pubs and let's get pissed
and put aside your stupid list"

and that is fine my thinking's slurred
I can't recall the portent third     tf is a "portent third"


I cannot make a thot for thee     what? now we're using words like "thot"? 
I cannot make it to list three

I cannot climb the ladder more
cannot seek the light or shore

so I will lift my cup alone
and let it now unyoke my stone

as graphite yields to clicky keys
and wolfram yields to LED's     ??????


and I will yield to one of these
and I will yield to one of these

I don't understand what the subject or occasion is at all, so it's possible this is all just going over my head.
Anyway the rhymes are mostly boring and the imagery is so haphazard, I couldn't get a sense of theme, the tetrameter was really the only motivating force for me. Otherwise I am mostly not excited by the images, and I can't make heads or tails of the content, so I'm left mostly spreading my hands.

This makes it sound like I think the tetrameter is the best part of the poem but I'm pretty sure it's the opposite. To me, instinctively, it feels like the form is not helping here. Would be curious to see what happens if you approach the subject here in free(er) verse. There's so much obscurity and so many unexplained leaps and I feel like shoving all that into end-rhymed IT couplets isn't helping.

Notably, the first stanza is the most compelling/enticing for me, and then I very quickly forget that we ever mentioned picking apples.

[milo]

oh apple-picking once again
as if I'm reaching for a friend     iambic tetrameter, ok 

and yet the laddered labor's endless
and I another migrant friendless   I find it distracting to have an extra syllable so soon. the complicated syntax of the second line here doesn't feel worth it. 

"oh sullen servant what's the matter
why can you not just climb your ladder  more funky rhythm

why must you always reach for more
the light, the dark or Pluto's shore."  not really psyched about the use of rhyme so far


another rung compresses seasons
the fungal earth that forces reasons:  this feels too compressed, you're starting to lose me / poem is beginning to feel like a riddle


the trunk, the hips each branch a jaw, Some
sex to push the apple blossom

and then there's Frost - the killing bite
merchant, peddler, murderous mite

Second is the idle thought
the mushy pungent apple -y rot  yeah around here I checked out, I gots no idea wtf is going on anymore and it sounds laborious and convoluted and I don't much care to know

and yet another rung of drinking
to put to rest such labored thinking

"come scouse the pubs and let's get pissed
and put aside your stupid list"

and that is fine my thinking's slurred
I can't recall the portent third     tf is a "portent third"


I cannot make a thot for thee     what? now we're using words like "thot"? 
I cannot make it to list three

I cannot climb the ladder more
cannot seek the light or shore

so I will lift my cup alone
and let it now unyoke my stone

as graphite yields to clicky keys
and wolfram yields to LED's     ??????


and I will yield to one of these
and I will yield to one of these

I don't understand what the subject or occasion is at all, so it's possible this is all just going over my head.
Anyway the rhymes are mostly boring and the imagery is so haphazard, I couldn't get a sense of theme, the tetrameter was really the only motivating force for me. Otherwise I am mostly not excited by the images, and I can't make heads or tails of the content, so I'm left mostly spreading my hands.

This makes it sound like I think the tetrameter is the best part of the poem but I'm pretty sure it's the opposite. To me, instinctively, it feels like the form is not helping here. Would be curious to see what happens if you approach the subject here in free(er) verse. There's so much obscurity and so many unexplained leaps and I feel like shoving all that into end-rhymed IT couplets isn't helping.

Notably, the first stanza is the most compelling/enticing for me, and then I very quickly forget that we ever mentioned picking apples.

Well, it is unfortunate it didn't land for you, thanks for reasing anyway.  Just a note - the "extra syllables" are just feminine endings and they are very common.  Often with poems like this, you need to read them a couple times and then you find the ky.

[matsunosuperfan]

let it sit for a while and found more to appreciate. 


the trunk, the hips each branch a jaw, Some
sex to push the apple blossom

for me this is the highlight in terms of sound, image and language-making
requesting more like this <3

so I will lift my cup alone
and let it now unyoke my stone

by contrast, less of this please. YKWIM?

[milo]

let it sit for a while and found more to appreciate. 


the trunk, the hips each branch a jaw, Some
sex to push the apple blossom

for me this is the highlight in terms of sound, image and language-making
requesting more like this <3

so I will lift my cup alone
and let it now unyoke my stone

by contrast, less of this please. YKWIM?

that particular technique is one I reach for frequently and the other line you caleed out was actually a late add to reconcile an earlier dangling plot line so perhaps I need to reconsider.

Thanks for offering additional feedback.

[CRNDLSM]

I wanted to comment on this one when it came out, but depression or something

At first it seems like too much of too little, but then I read it slower, and slower, and it felt more like working at a tedious job and singing a mantra to help motivate the work. So some of the phrasing, while awkward at first, actually lasts longer in the memory in relation to the whole.  Why can you not just climb your ladder, and I another migrant friendless as examples.  The 'I cannot' portion I think is the most awkward and somewhat confusing, but like I said read slower, sadder, it makes more sense. Is this 'the list'?

The last two lines I can't quite tell what the 'one of these' is, cause there's kinda a lot, kinda a little, throughout the whole poem, like a drunk meandering home and remembering what he was thinking earlier in the day, does that make sense?

I think it's quite good to stay with me this long, and I don't know anyhow to improve it, interesting
Thanks for posting

oh apple-picking once again
as if I'm reaching for a friend

and yet the laddered labor's endless
and I another migrant friendless

"oh sullen servant what's the matter
why can you not just climb your ladder

why must you always reach for more
the light, the dark or Pluto's shore."


another rung compresses seasons
the fungal earth that forces reasons:


the trunk, the hips each branch a jaw, Some
sex to push the apple blossom

and then there's Frost - the killing bite
merchant, peddler, murderous mite

Second is the idle thought
the mushy pungent apple -y rot

and yet another rung of drinking
to put to rest such labored thinking

"come scouse the pubs and let's get pissed
and put aside your stupid list"

and that is fine my thinking's slurred
I can't recall the portent third


I cannot make a thot for thee
I cannot make it to list three

I cannot climb the ladder more
cannot seek the light or shore

so I will lift my cup alone
and let it now unyoke my stone

as graphite yields to clicky keys
and wolfram yields to LED's


and I will yield to one of these
and I will yield to one of these

[milo]

I wanted to comment on this one when it came out, but depression or something

At first it seems like too much of too little, but then I read it slower, and slower, and it felt more like working at a tedious job and singing a mantra to help motivate the work. So some of the phrasing, while awkward at first, actually lasts longer in the memory in relation to the whole.  Why can you not just climb your ladder, and I another migrant friendless as examples.  The 'I cannot' portion I think is the most awkward and somewhat confusing, but like I said read slower, sadder, it makes more sense. Is this 'the list'?

The last two lines I can't quite tell what the 'one of these' is, cause there's kinda a lot, kinda a little, throughout the whole poem, like a drunk meandering home and remembering what he was thinking earlier in the day, does that make sense?

I think it's quite good to stay with me this long, and I don't know anyhow to improve it, interesting
Thanks for posting

oh apple-picking once again
as if I'm reaching for a friend

and yet the laddered labor's endless
and I another migrant friendless

"oh sullen servant what's the matter
why can you not just climb your ladder

why must you always reach for more
the light, the dark or Pluto's shore."


another rung compresses seasons
the fungal earth that forces reasons:


the trunk, the hips each branch a jaw, Some
sex to push the apple blossom

and then there's Frost - the killing bite
merchant, peddler, murderous mite

Second is the idle thought
the mushy pungent apple -y rot

and yet another rung of drinking
to put to rest such labored thinking

"come scouse the pubs and let's get pissed
and put aside your stupid list"

and that is fine my thinking's slurred
I can't recall the portent third


I cannot make a thot for thee
I cannot make it to list three

I cannot climb the ladder more
cannot seek the light or shore

so I will lift my cup alone
and let it now unyoke my stone

as graphite yields to clicky keys
and wolfram yields to LED's


and I will yield to one of these
and I will yield to one of these

Thanks for reading and commenting.  You are right that it was a metaphor for a pointless thankless task - in this case, "Apple Picking" is an allusion to Frost's famous poem and our N here is  indeed a poet - as much as it hurts to say.  Many of the lines are plucked from famous poems or famous writers and it is merely a lament that Poetry is really not a valid art form anymore - this is why he loves and curses Frost the same

[CRNDLSM]

Thanks for reading and commenting.  You are right that it was a metaphor for a pointless thankless task - in this case, "Apple Picking" is an allusion to Frost's famous poem and our N here is  indeed a poet - as much as it hurts to say.  Many of the lines are plucked from famous poems or famous writers and it is merely a lament that Poetry is really not a valid art form anymore - this is why he loves and curses Frost the same

Made even sadder and realer by the reader's inability to catch the pluckings.  With the cia psyop making Jackson pollock a valid artist, or geeses psyop getting on Saturday night live, I wonder if poetry ever had one too, or if it's just always been, 'the original art form', to which I'd say it's possibly the most valid, if least recognized.  What to do but lament... Your explanation makes it better, but that's art

[milo]

Thanks for reading and commenting.  You are right that it was a metaphor for a pointless thankless task - in this case, "Apple Picking" is an allusion to Frost's famous poem and our N here is  indeed a poet - as much as it hurts to say.  Many of the lines are plucked from famous poems or famous writers and it is merely a lament that Poetry is really not a valid art form anymore - this is why he loves and curses Frost the same

Made even sadder and realer by the reader's inability to catch the pluckings.  With the cia psyop making Jackson pollock a valid artist, or geeses psyop getting on Saturday night live, I wonder if poetry ever had one too, or if it's just always been, 'the original art form', to which I'd say it's possibly the most valid, if least recognized.  What to do but lament... Your explanation makes it better, but that's art

I actually wrote it after reading a thread on this site where ella mentioned the poem and how much she loved it (after apple picking of course)  and I thought - how fucking easy did Frost have it back in the day before the internet and AI and whatnot and how impossible it would be to recreate that today.

[CRNDLSM]

From his website, it says he didn't gain any traction until he moved to england... After being a farmer and a teacher, different struggles, seemingly same frustrations, ultimately luck and connections forever for everyone

[milo]

From his website, it says he didn't gain any traction until he moved to england... After being a farmer and a teacher, different struggles, seemingly same frustrations, ultimately luck and connections forever for everyone

yes - well, I don't mean it seriously or literally although part of me does think it is impossible to ever achieve that in today's world - I just meant as a source for my narrator

[CRNDLSM]

I can agree with the N, thanks again