Wednesday, 13 June 2012

Poem thing. - A Sequence.

A Quantum Sequence

Every moment a held breath
A shower of white blossom
(in potential)
The step

from summer to winter

a run to a limp
a skip to a slide

The ice is treacherous here.
I lost my footing once.
Came un-
stuck in, mired.
My own devising
My own problem
My own solutions

Often backwards thinking.

A radial reality
I sit upon
This one spoke
Volumes to me

If I were louder?
(Worry: you may be heard.)
Would I listen and learn?
Or continue
in circles.

Every moment a held breath.

This is a first draft written by just following the chains the words make. I like some of the imagery in it and the overall shape, the way it moves from simple to (slightly) more complex imagery. On the other hand it feels uncomfortably serious for me. Almost as if there is something in my subconscious trying to get out (I'm not sure there is).

Clearly, there are autobiographical elements in anything you write just by using 'automatic writing' but I'm not sure what this sequence of words hints at. I think I will revise it, definitely remove the word 'seasonal' as it feels clumsy. Maybe strengthen the hint of parallel realities within the idea of radial spokes. 

Maybe it is about ageing. Dunno. I generally think it is the readers job to find things within something that can be as vague as poetry.

1 comment:

  1. Forgive me commenting on my own thing. This was left on Facebook by Marcy who's poetry I adore and I didn't want to lose it so have put it here. Cos what she said made me happy, innit.

    "firstly, I've said this before I know, but you really should be writing more poetry you know. You've a wonderful, deft (I'm been waiting all day to use deft in a sentence. Tried it on the pizza delivery guy, but the box he brought was too big to be deft so I left it at eh instead) touch and I'm always left with a sense of having my thoughts split open by an axe crafted from a blade of grass and a bit knicker elastic from some deity's outside underpants.

    What I mean is, I always come away feeling I've learned something, even if that something is not necessarily a clear-cut (it's the axe image, now it's haunting me!) something. And I always want to go back and read again (like can you remember the one you did because someone had posted a scuba diving pic and it inspired you? I can, still. And the one you did where she never wanted to visit and there could have been rabbit gods? Aye, that's because they stick, like the best ones always do)

    Don't take out the seasonal btw, it's not clumsy at all to my mind, if anything, it encourages a pause, because of the slowness of saying it aloud. And it reinforces the way the poem is circular, and like the radial spoke (which I admit I had no clue about until I looked it up), especially with the refrain of your first line used again as your last. (incidentally, read it from bottom up. Works that way too really well, apart from the few instances where it's past tense) But yeah, I wouldn't touch that seasonal if this was mine. And I love the gentle irony of the held breath, esp because the poem is always moving and circling, there is nothing still in it. Except possibly our wish to remain static occasionally (because I thought that too, I got glimpses of the issue of ageing. But not as simple as that either though, maybe a yearning for change as well?)

    It's actually very clever too, and not in a excluding way. I've read it several times now, to gauge what is actually going on both poetically and technically, very clever sir, indeed."