Hi Bob
I'm not sure. Clearly the moon can penetrate curtains but the (hopeless)
gesture of fear, of shutting out, perhaps needs to be articulated.
'Curtains' also plainly allude to death, to hiding, to ending a drama
(prematurely?)
I'm glad you liked the moon and perhaps we need more of the sinister, as you
say. Strange, someone told me the other day that this poem was 'universal'
when, in fact, I felt it very personally: underneath, there are allusions to
worries about sight etc.
I know I shouldn't really point that out but still...What do you think?
BW
Christine
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Bob Cooper [SMTP:[log in to unmask]]
> Sent: 21 October 2002 21:57
> To: [log in to unmask]
> Subject: Re: newsub-Curtains
>
> Hi Christine,
> I'd been strolling back home watching a full orange moon yawning its way
> up
> to roll over the moors before I clicked onto this screen and first read
> your
> poem... My moon's long gone, the poem with its ominous moon, remain.
> If this stanza were removed:
> "Roll down the blinds,
> time's shadow drowns the sun,
> leaden evenings edged with spite.
> Quick, close the curtains."
> would the poem become more sinister/powerful? Because I've a feeling your
> orange moon, that gets through clouds, wouldn't be stopped from reaching
> beyond curtains either! So, could you make us more scared! (But that would
> be changing the poem so much it would also need another title!)
> Or is it that I'm not recognising the value of the curtains because
> they're
> too easily linked in with the blinds?
> Bob
>
>
>
>
>
>
> >From: "Bousfield, Christine [CES]" <[log in to unmask]>
> >Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
> >To: [log in to unmask]
> >Subject: newsub-Curtains
> >Date: Sun, 20 Oct 2002 11:19:29 +0100
> >
> >Dear All
> >Just joined you again.Comments please. (The last line of each stanza is
> >supposed to be indented, as in stanza 3)
> >BW
> >Christine
> >
> >Curtains
> >
> >Tear back the curtains,
> >roll up the blinds,
> >let in the light:
> >there'll be precious little soon.
> >
> >Let in the light
> >beneath the roller and the roman;
> >there's only a little now:
> >leaves rattle in the drains.
> >
> >
> >Roll down the blinds,
> >time's shadow drowns the sun,
> >leaden evenings edged with spite.
> > Quick, close the curtains.
> >
> >
> >There'll be precious little then
> >under cataracts of cloud
> >to keep out the cold,
> >face down the orange moon.
> >
> >
> >
> >chrisbousfield October 2002
>
>
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