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Brackish (Free verse) by <~>
Looking out, I see but take no notice that the house lights cast yellow shafts into the blackened yews beneath my windows. From the warmth of my doorway, I hear a scurry, and slight steps fade so I strain to see tonight's invader; I step out. Perceptions shift. Denied my eyes as they adapt, I breathe fog that stops not far from my face and evaporates in the dry December night. Once I dreamt that I could harness the coldness of this light, and the lacy crunch of pocked dirt brittle underfoot, honeycombed with sharpness unseen in sunlight. I collected, in a greyed bouquet, plumes of oatgrass which billowed like sudden ghosts on their broken stems, and held aloft, my standard, my talisman. Tonight, they pit my path with shadowed voids, and, unchecked, softly startle as they loom before me. I could sprain a joint falling by, in those holes dug with moonlight. I lean to the whisper of the reeds as the wind wanders through my backyard marsh. Dwarfed and screened by the tallest of these, once again, it is all new, like it was thirty years ago, and I, Explorer, push into the unseen. I listen for my quarry, lost in the tract before me. In my naivete, I'd capture him, and stroke his silky coat; but I have learned that to bring the outside in kills it. I feel a frugal wisdom in this chill, and pity is a word not uttered or even understood in this unsilent night. I wrap tighter and freeze, tread deeper to seek the secrets of the blue-lit labyrinth, pathed by feet surer and smaller than mine. I know there is a center. There must be. But for now, I turn back.

Down the ladder: Nightshades

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Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
 GraphVotes
10  .. 54
.. 41
.. 01
.. 10
.. 00
.. 10
.. 10
.. 00
.. 00
.. 12
.. 20

Arithmetic Mean: 7.0434785
Weighted score: 7.006724
Overall Rank: 75
Posted: December 25, 2002 9:09 PM PST; Last modified: December 26, 2002 12:13 PM PST
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Comments:
[9] brazen @ 65.237.112.78 | 25-Dec-02/10:01 PM | Reply
i could almost feel myself going outside with you, but then i realized i left a window open. either way, you still provided my one enjoyable moment for today.
[9] ecargo @ 208.249.92.99 | 26-Dec-02/8:01 AM | Reply
I looked at this last night quickly (but won't score or comment when sauced and saucy) and it seemed cleaner. Did you repost?

S1: If you see, aren't you taking notice? (Do you really have yews? Not a tree I see a lot.) Is it really a slither you hear? Not a scurry or a scamper or something less "slitherous"? That's such a reptilian word, not one of furry beasts on cold, dry nights.

S3--what is the suffering unseen in daylight? I don't think a crunch can be lacy, though the dirt can be. Love honeycombed.

S4: s/b "bouquet." Like the oatgrass. Don't think "ethereally" works--actually, I'd drop the line and leave the stalks standing unaugmented. Also, "another night" seems to cry for a "but not this night." Dancing in the drought--meh.

Blue-lit labyrinths draws me in, but I don't think it needs the center so explicitly. Pare, prune, tighten.
[n/a] <~> @ 167.206.181.179 > ecargo | 26-Dec-02/8:21 AM | Reply
you can see things without realizing you are seeing them--you see what you expect to see. how many people see the color of the light? they see 'light'--generic. look into apartment windows at night sometime--you'll see warm--yellow--incandesant, blue--cold--fluorescent, and white--neutral--halogen--all next to each other. ot's this kind of distinction i am pointing out. i will rework with your other suggestions. i needed pruning help here. thanks mangk.
[n/a] <~> @ 167.206.181.179 > ecargo | 26-Dec-02/12:32 PM | Reply
re S3:
lacy crunch of pocked dirt brittle underfoot

all inversion: brittle crunch, lacy pocked dirt, but so obvious to word them that way.
[9] ecargo @ 208.249.92.99 > <~> | 26-Dec-02/12:59 PM | Reply
Talismans--I love talismans. Longer doesn't mean not tighter here--I like the added lines a lot, the playing with sounds, the internal near-rhymes. Regarding lacy crunchings--the image works, and that's the main thing; you're right to keep it. The last line still doesn't seem quite there, but I'm not sure why--that's not especially helpful I know, but there you have it. Nonetheless, this is excellent.
[10] <{Baba^Yaga}> @ 24.126.113.154 | 26-Dec-02/12:04 PM | Reply
But, for now
i turn back.

Because, we know you're there (home) from the begining...and i'm really prejudice lately against the turning towards home at the end of a poem...i love you regardless though, and believe in your writing with or with out. It's just my insecurities breathing down my mullet.
[n/a] <~> @ 167.206.181.179 > <{Baba^Yaga}> | 26-Dec-02/12:15 PM | Reply
dammit. i had that in my draft and for got to change it.
yeah. my wall poem led toward home. WTF? i'm not feeling like i have a home these days. all my happy, satisfied poem-protagonists are wishful thinking. see, i'm getting geared up for the new year--worst night of the year. best place to spend it is in the bath. bah humbug.

thanks for the suggestion. i changed it to how it should be. please vote again.
[10] <{Baba^Yaga}> @ 24.126.113.154 > <~> | 26-Dec-02/12:26 PM | Reply
that feeling never goes away. sometimes i feel as though i'm being pulled in all directions by different parts of my body, and certain people, and moods..all very normal and healthy natural reactions this time of the year. in fact all year. it's all just a constant test between you, yourself, and the environment you've filled with stuff and people and 'reasons'. What goes down is sure to rise taller and quicker. at least you have talent and skills with a relentless curiosity. your attitude can't be stopped it's more consistent than the phantoms yawn. you'll be fine.
[n/a] poetandknowit @ 65.101.212.167 | 27-Dec-02/10:05 PM | Reply
Your images are wonderful. Just wonderful. The first stanza..wow. Let me think on this one a bit, read it a few more times and send along some thoughts.
[9] Christof @ 195.172.159.2 | 30-Dec-02/3:46 AM | Reply
This is expansive and wonderful - 'frugal wisdom' I like a lot and the general sensual realism of it. Top stuff.
[10] Bill Z Bub @ 24.112.224.232 | 1-Jan-03/7:30 PM | Reply
Wonderfully beautifully wintery. 10
[9] anitawit @ 219.65.234.195 | 2-Jan-03/8:02 AM | Reply
Beautiful. This is poetry. Thanks for enhancing the worth of this site.
[n/a] <~> @ 167.206.181.179 > anitawit | 2-Jan-03/8:22 AM | Reply
thank you. i am glad to have touched you so.
[4] Engelbert Humpalot @ 194.154.22.54 | 10-Aug-06/10:13 AM | Reply
This shows some promise but its content is far outweighed by its length. Edit, edit and then edit again.
[0] Edna Sweetlove @ 85.210.236.219 | 29-Oct-06/5:05 PM | Reply
Deeply boring and pretentious. Over-punctuated and empty.
[5] LilMsLadyPoet @ 152.163.100.65 | 11-Jan-07/9:43 PM | Reply
Pretty good. Needs cleaning up.
[0] Edna Sweetlove @ 85.210.255.116 | 16-Jan-07/12:04 PM | Reply
I like your pen-name. It's the best thing about this twaddle.
[0] deleted user @ 85.210.210.92 | 16-Jan-07/5:47 PM | Reply
Flush this crap down the fucking lav.
[1] Holy Tits @ 195.194.75.209 | 18-Jan-07/7:37 AM | Reply
A bit long.
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