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		billy suggested making a clean post for the poem I refuse to let die. apologies for the space/possible confusion this is bringing with it    
original post is here 
_________________________________________________ 
V. 6 (ancestors from penguin)
 
Under the matriarch  
who ate their ancestors, 
stalks of elephant grass bow 
 
as her march to water 
ends in dust. They will take 
her tusks to unravel
 
the ivory. Her skin will strip 
into bands of sunset.  
Her trunk will open
 
like a boabab 
scoured for its dripping heart.  
And she, picking at petals 
 
of death, will only feel 
its flower bloom in her eyes  
as it holds her head
 
and releases seeds, heavier  
than the memories lifted by wind 
already forgotten. 
 
v: 5 (thanks to addy, universal)
What Elephants Remember 
Months of sunlight  
open envelopes of memory, 
the old march to water
 
with softer brush for mother's  
broken teeth, years before her ivory  
fell to dust like slabs of marble.
 
Those tusks,  
chiseled from a nimbus  
of elephant leather, 
 
never left. 
They embraced the tall stalks 
that fed her when the fields dried,
 
soothed her hollow gums; 
held her head 
when death refused.
 
Those white knives 
who carved baobab trunks  
with names for thirst
 
sat beneath a spread 
of elephant grass, 
blades too thin to hide
 
curls of tooth,  
casts of bone, 
cycles of memory:
 
how it hurts 
to forget in waves of manna 
and remember in drought. 
 
version4:
 
Months of sunlight  
open envelopes of memory, 
the march to ponds
  
with softer brush for mother's  
broken teeth, years before her ivory  
fell to dust like slabs of marble.
  
Those tusks,  
chiseled from a nimbus  
of elephant leather, 
 
never left. 
They embrace the tall stalks 
that fed her when the fields dried,
  
soothed her hollow gums; 
held her head 
when death refused.
  
Those white knives 
who carved baobab trunks  
with names for thirst
  
won't stop hiding 
in every spread of elephant grass 
too thin to shroud
  
curls of tooth,  
bone, how it hurts  
to remember and forget.
	
Written only for you to consider.
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		will give some feedback later ;
	 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		This reads like a completely different poem from your original, so i won't even bother comparing. There's an almost dream-like quality to this one, and giving the natural world a totemic significance to an animal is just so stylistically interesting for me. It ties together well, and makes for some truly gorgeous imagery  (07-19-2012, 11:55 AM)Philatone Wrote:  latest version:
 What Elephants Remember
 
 Months of sunlight
 open envelopes of memory,
 the march to ponds  I thought "ponds" is an odd word choice for a savannah, but that may be just me
 
 with softer brush for mother's
 broken teeth, years before her ivory The flashback seemed a little shortlived? Perhaps it's just an effect of it being broken up by the stanza break. Very minor nit. Perhaps even qualifying it as a "long march" would help impress the idea more.
 fell to dust like slabs of marble.
 
 Those tusks,
 chiseled from a nimbus
 of elephant leather, Very evocative.
 
 never left.
 They embrace the tall stalks
 that fed her when the fields dried,
 
 soothed her hollow gums;
 held her head
 when death refused.
 
 Those white knives
 who carved baobab trunks
 with names for thirst
 
 won't stop hiding
 in every spread of elephant grass
 too thin to shroud
 
 curls of tooth,
 bone, how it hurts
 to remember and forget. I don't want to overload with comments so I'll just say that I loved all the imagery you used up to this point. I felt the ending might have been a little abrupt, but that's just a personal preference
PS. If you can, try your hand at giving some of the others a bit of feedback. If you already have, thanks, can you do some more?
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		 (07-19-2012, 11:55 AM)Philatone Wrote:  billy suggested making a clean post for the poem I refuse to let die. apologies for the space/possible confusion this is bringing with it  
 original post is  here
 _________________________________________________
 
 
 latest version:
 
 What Elephants Remember
 
 Months of sunlight
 open envelopes of memory,
 the march to ponds Personally I wouldn't use ponds - doesn't really fit.
 
 with softer brush for mother's
 broken teeth, years before her ivory
 fell to dust like slabs of marble. Like the last two lines of this stanza a lot.
 
 Those tusks,
 chiseled from a nimbus I prefered grey cloud to nimbus!
 of elephant leather,
 
 never left.
 They embrace the tall stalks
 that fed her when the fields dried, I like this stanza too.
 
 soothed her hollow gums;
 held her head
 when death refused.
 
 Those white knives
 who carved baobab trunks
 with names for thirst
 
 won't stop hiding
 in every spread of elephant grass
 too thin to shroud
 
 curls of tooth,
 bone, how it hurts
 to remember and forget. Love it.
 
Really great poem, very touching. Good remake.
	 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		addy- thanks for the time. tried modifying "march" to drag it out even a little more. also adjusted the ending; thanks for the time and comments
 universal- i'm pondering the cloud comment. thanks for the time and read!
 
Written only for you to consider.
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		Just passing through in my busy days   for a fast poetic hit—The title really drew me in. I was expecting a different voice, strong as an elephant  full of emotion    and a lot more descriptive;   instead  I got handed a list. I am disappointed.
 Bring out the elephant in you  and you will have a killer poem
 
Perfection changes with the light and light goes on for infinity ~~~Bronte 
 
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		07-20-2012, 12:36 PM 
(This post was last modified: 07-20-2012, 12:39 PM by billy.)
	
	 
		i'me really struggling to type more than a line as my keyboard keeps stalling on me    will reply to this and other poems once addy brings me back a new one.
 
  (07-20-2012, 10:05 AM)Perlygates Wrote:  I realize that this is an unusual reply, but I would like to show you and photograph along with the photographers comments.  If that is ok with you please tell me how I can get the photo to you.  You may find it useful. 
you can save the pic to a site like photobucket, then place the url it gives you in a pm. 
 
or just post him the url to the picture if it's on the net. (pm= private message)
	
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		i have an old dusty keyboard to use till i get another one tomorrow.  (07-19-2012, 11:55 AM)Philatone Wrote:  billy suggested making a clean post for the poem I refuse to let die. apologies for the space/possible confusion this is bringing with it  
 original post is  here
 _________________________________________________
 
 v: 5 (thanks to addy, universal)
 
 
 
 What Elephants Remember
 
 
 Months of sunlight why months of sunlight, why not just sunlight or something else of sunlight? or if it's drought months of heat etc.
 open envelopes of memory,
 the old march to water this is the 1st solid line that pertains to the subject matter, while memory connects us to elephants, envelopes struggles to.
 
 with softer brush for mother's
 broken teeth, years before her ivory
 fell to dust like slabs of marble. these three lines are telling a story
 
 Those tusks,
 chiseled from a nimbus again the analogy doesn't feel right. i think this would be a perfect place to utilise the word "herd" ie; born from the herd, or something along those lines.
 of elephant leather,  this and the 1st line of this stanza are on the mark again and continue the tale.
 
 never left.
 They embraced the tall stalks
 that fed her when the fields dried, good evocative image in this stanza, it reeks of elephant
  
 soothed her hollow gums;
 held her head
 when death refused. again i like this image, i can see her resting on them
 
 Those white knives
 who carved baobab trunks
 with names for thirst
 
 sat beneath a spread
 of elephant grass,
 blades too thin to hide
 
 curls of tooth,
 casts of bone,
 cycles of memory:
 
 how it hurts
 to forget in waves of manna
 and remember in drought.  good strong ending over the 4 or 5 stanza.
 i think it's almost there. just take anu non elephants stuff out, i know we can compartmentalise our memory into boxes or envelopes but i think envelope fails at being a working word in the poem.
 
 
 
i do like what you've got so far and i certain;y see the elephant and the memory they have associated with them coming out.
	
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		I really liked the edit. I love how you concretized the idea of remembering in drought by literally letting the bones be revealed when the grass dies, and the opposite happen in the wet season. 
 Billy mentioned an interesting point i hadn't noticed before. If you imply "heat" at the intro of your poem instead of light, it might make a nicer transition to the concept of paper / envelope, allowing the two images to mutually support one another instead of being complete standalones.
 
PS. If you can, try your hand at giving some of the others a bit of feedback. If you already have, thanks, can you do some more?
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		bronte-your comments confirmed what i feared--the poem still is not going in the direction I want it to, rather keeping a feeling of reported events and lists. I think the latest edit is getting at least a step closer to what the piece is about
 
 -an
 thanks for the picture; it really was great! though the poem has one in a slightly different direction, I still wanted to incorporate that sense of longing from the image and what I had initially conceived. I hope I can still accomplish that
 
 -billy and addy
 thanks for the patience and repeated visits; i apologize for continuously changing the poem's form and content, at the sacrifice of images that I liked and was pleased you could enjoy as well. the poem has a detached quality to it and some pieces that did not fit well together, as noted. I hope to be making improvements in both of those regards. again, I really appreciate your help!
 
Written only for you to consider.
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		Hello Geoff. Well, you certainly go root and branch at your poems. Like an elephant clearing a forest.Glad to see matriarch back, such a nice word.Wouldn't she have eaten ancestors rather than daughters?I struggle with the whole "more than life itself" business, don't get the point. But after that, from a path narrow onwards, I thought it was very well put.
 Ray
 
Before criticising a person, try walking a mile in their shoes. Then when you do criticise them, you're a mile away.....and you have their shoes. 
 
		
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