In the Chinese room,
a brush and ink drawing
compels through the glass.
With its free-flowing mane
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is flying towards me,
joyful and wild,
straining to leap
from the paper.
Knowing how much
you love horses and art,
I think to myself, The gift shop! That horse on a card belongs on your desk, I'll post it tomorrow, shouldn't take long to reach your address.
Then time and space shift, I implode;
as molecules rearrange,
I hear the stone split,
feel a new vein of sorrow
crack open in the
granite rockface of grief.
What was I thinking?
An almost-moment, forgetting
you no longer live there.
Forgetting the river, the ashes.
With its free-flowing mane
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is flying towards me,
joyful and wild,
straining to leap
from the paper.
---------------------
A brush and ink drawing
is on display,
protected by glass
in the Chinese room.
With its free-flowing mane
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is looking towards me,
glorious, wild, and joyful,
straining to leap
from the paper.
Knowing how much
you love horses and art,
I think to myself, I'll go to the gift shop, that horse on a card needs to be on your desk, I'll post it tomorrow, might take just a week to reach your address.
A split atom later
the space-time continuum trembles,
people and artefacts fade.
I implode,
feel molecules rearrange,
hear the splitting of stone,
and a new vein of sorrow
cracks open
in the granite rockface of grief.
What was I thinking?
For an almost-moment forgetting
you no longer live there.
Forgetting you no longer live.
With its free-flowing mane
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is looking towards me,
glorious, wild, and joyful,
straining to leap
from the paper.
Thanks for posting this poem, I enjoyed reading it
DonMar dateline='[url=tel:1697081853' Wrote: 1697081853[/url]'] In the Museum of Ethnology
A brush and ink drawing
is on display,
protected by glass
in the Chinese room.
I’m not sure that “in the Chinese room” is necessary. It might be worth cutting. I keep wishing that there were fewer line breaks. Some would say that it’s a matter of taste, and they’d probably be right, but shorter line breaks (to me) give a poem an airiness that I didn’t feel here.
With its free-flowing mane
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is charging towards me,
glorious, wild,
straining to leap
from the paper.
Knowing how much
you love horses and art,
I think to myself,
'I'll go to the gift shop,
that horse on a card
will look good on your desk,
I'll post it tomorrow,
might take just a week
to reach your address'.
Maybe another stylistic preference but I think italics could work better here instead of single quotation marks.
A split atom later
the space-time continuum trembles,
people and artefacts fade.
I like a “split atom later”, but I have a hard time taking the term “the space-time continuum” seriously where it’s so closely associated with science fiction movies. I think even just “space and time” would suffice.
“artifacts”?
I implode,
feel molecules rearrange,
hear the splitting of stone,
and a new vein of sorrow
cracks open
in the granite rockface of grief.
What was I thinking?
For an almost moment forgetting
you no longer lived there.
Forgetting you no longer live.
With its free-flowing mane
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is charging towards me,
glorious, wild,
straining to leap
from the paper.
I like the repetition in the last stanza, it nicely and effectively transforms from a poetic image of the drawing to an ominous image with emotional resonance. I think it might be more effective without repeating the last three lines, though, or possibly just leaving off the last line. At least for me, mentioning the paper again waters down the strength of the repeated image, which no longer feels like a literal description, but a figurative image targeted at the narrator.
(10-12-2023, 12:37 PM)DonMar Wrote: In the Museum of Ethnology I almost wish the title contained a sly hint of what's to come... but in a way (how our tribe thinks of death) it does
A brush and ink drawing
is on display, this line seems a bit weak... "stands" or "rests" or some more descriptive word, perhaps
protected by glass
in the Chinese room.
With its free-flowing mane "its" might be enhanced... "his" or "her," for example
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is looking towards me, more showing could take place here... "looks sidelong," for example
glorious, wild, and joyful,
straining to leap
from the paper.
Knowing how much
you love horses and art,
I think to myself, I'll go to the gift shop, that horse on a card should be on your desk, perhaps "be" could be enhanced - "should frolic," for example I'll post it tomorrow, might take just a week to reach your address.
A split atom later you're about to use "split" again shortly... could one of them be a different word?
the space-time continuum trembles, not sure "space-time" is necessary here
people and artefacts fade.
I implode,
feel molecules rearrange,
hear the splitting of stone, "hear stone split" or the like might do better, but this is fine
and a new vein of sorrow
cracks open
in the granite rockface of grief.
What was I thinking?
For an almost moment forgetting nice word ordering... perhaps a hyphen ("almost-moment")?
you no longer lived there.
Forgetting you no longer live.
With its free-flowing mane
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is looking towards me,
glorious, wild, and joyful,
straining to leap perhaps (reluctant to suggest) "still strains to leap"
from the paper.
Oh, the times this has happened to me! "Dad would love that," or "the brother-in-law would give that his arch chuckle" and then, the sad shock. Very well done.
In general (along with the specifics above, which should be taken as very mild suggestions), subject the word "the" to suspicion at every instance - unless it's truly the only one (MY bishop, THE Pope) things tend to flow better without it, or with some more specific word/phrase that leaves your rhythm intact.
I found myself suspecting what the turn would be just before it appeared (on first reading, of course). This is not a criticism, more an acknowledgement that the buildup was artfully done while leaving that nervous opening for the storm approaching.
Without over-decorating, a little more description would not hurt. But this is very good as it stands; the choice of the horse (if you're not simply relating an actual experience, which would also be more than fine) is inspired.
Fearful Symmetry, Thank you for helpful comments. I used ‘Chinese room’ to give a stronger context for the drawing on display, but others may feel as well that it’s not necessary. Also with regard to the line breaks. (I’m just returning to writing poems after a long hiatus during which I mainly wrote lyrics, which have somewhat different requirements.)
I agree that italics are stylistically more pleasing than quotation marks. I’ve made the change.
I take your point regarding ‘space-time continuum’.
Regarding ‘artefacts’: Both spellings are correct. The British way is with an ‘e’.
Thanks too for your observation about the mood in the last part of the repeated stanza. In fact, I was worried that the word ‘charging’ might have negative connotations although I was aiming for the opposite. Clearly that section needs further attention.
The background story is that my daughter, who was a graphic artist, adored horses. She often sketched or painted them. I’m trying to recapture here what felt like a time-shift moment during a recent visit to the Museum of Ethnology in Leiden. It’s amazing how the mind plays tricks. On first seeing the brush and ink drawing, for a split second, I forgot reality, and then, in the millisecond it took to remember, I was hollowed out all over again.
So in the repeated stanza, my intention was/is to get across a sense of the horse – at least in my imagination – kind of symbolising my daughter, eager to leap towards me and back into life from the prison of the paper. If that makes any sense.
I look forward to others’ input. (Words in blue are changes already made.)
-----------
dukealien, thank you too for your observations and input, which I'll also take into account.
(10-13-2023, 04:38 AM)DonMar Wrote: Thank you both for your feedback. I intend to respond more fully, but am not able to copy/paste the text I typed into a Word document. Will I need to type everything into the Reply box, or is there a copy/paste workaround?
When you press the "Reply" button (lower right), you will get an edit screen, onto which you can paste. Copy by highlighting in your Word™ document, then pasting into the edit screen. Word™ does some shenanigans in the copy/paste process as far as font and size, if I recall correctly, so you may have to make some edits afterward.
This assumes you have both Word™ and your browser open at the same time. You highlight and copy from the Word™ edit screen. Hope that's clear... I use WordPerfect™.
(10-13-2023, 04:38 AM)DonMar Wrote: Thank you both for your feedback. I intend to respond more fully, but am not able to copy/paste the text I typed into a Word document. Will I need to type everything into the Reply box, or is there a copy/paste workaround?
When you press the "Reply" button (lower right), you will get an edit screen, onto which you can paste. Copy by highlighting in your Word™ document, then pasting into the edit screen. Word™ does some shenanigans in the copy/paste process as far as font and size, if I recall correctly, so you may have to make some edits afterward.
This assumes you have both Word™ and your browser open at the same time. You highlight and copy from the Word™ edit screen. Hope that's clear... I use WordPerfect™.
Update: Looks like you figured it out
dukealien, Thanks so much! I did figure something out, but for the next time I'll use the method you've provided.
Meanwhile, I've made several adjustments on the basis of feedback (and rethinking a few bits). Felt it needed tightening up. The revised version is in the top post.
(10-12-2023, 12:37 PM)DonMar Wrote: In the Museum of Ethnology
REV 1 (13.10)
In the Chinese room,
a brush and ink drawing
compels through the glass. I think cutting 'the' would make this nicer.
With its free-flowing mane
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is flying towards me, maybe 'flies towards me'? - I don't think the comma at the end of this line is needed either.
joyful and wild,
straining to leap
from the paper.
Knowing how much
you love horses and art,
I think to myself, The gift shop! That horse on a card belongs on your desk, I'll post it tomorrow, shouldn't take long to reach your address. This is nice - this verse could be a poem in itself (I like the idea of a poem with the I's and You's reversed).
Then time and space tremble,
I no longer breathe
but implode;
as molecules rearrange, I think this would be better without the comma at the end of the line.
I hear the stone split,
feel a new vein of sorrow
crack open in the
granite rockface of grief. I really like the last five lines of this verse a lot, but I don't think the first three lines really add anything - to me, they are all summed up by 'as molecules rearrange'.
What was I thinking?
An almost-moment, forgetting
you no longer live there.
Forgetting you no longer live. I think this is lovely as is, but I think it could be a bit stronger if you show this rather than say it flat out. i.e forgetting the weeks in the hospital, forgetting the roses on the stone, forgetting your sister in black etc.
With its free-flowing mane
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is flying towards me,
joyful and wild,
straining to leap
from the paper. I like this repitition, to my read, it is sort of the narrator remembering the person again represented in the image.
---------------------
A brush and ink drawing
is on display,
protected by glass
in the Chinese room.
With its free-flowing mane
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is looking towards me,
glorious, wild, and joyful,
straining to leap
from the paper.
Knowing how much
you love horses and art,
I think to myself, I'll go to the gift shop, that horse on a card needs to be on your desk, I'll post it tomorrow, might take just a week to reach your address.
A split atom later
the space-time continuum trembles,
people and artefacts fade.
I implode,
feel molecules rearrange,
hear the splitting of stone,
and a new vein of sorrow
cracks open
in the granite rockface of grief.
What was I thinking?
For an almost-moment forgetting
you no longer live there.
Forgetting you no longer live.
With its free-flowing mane
and feathery tail,
a horse in mid-gallop
is looking towards me,
glorious, wild, and joyful,
straining to leap
from the paper.
Hey Don Mar, I like this poem - hopefully my thoughts are of some help to you.
