Grassy, Sue,

I have written plenty of poems where brevity was not an object (which
hoped for an additive effect from  their components).

Another red herring I could throw in is that a long poem may be quicker to
read than a short poem (if it is more accessible). Clarity is a kind of
brevity.

I suppose it comes down to how much you like the poetry (or prose). Proust's
autobiographical novel is a verbose work if ever there was one (thirty pages
to describe how he rolled over in bed as one editor put it).  On reaching
the end of Vol 1 after a year I was happy to discover that there was more of
the same. Ditto for Wordsworth's Prelude. But if you don't like the poetry
or prose then a little more than a little is by much too much.

I also belive/think/feel that there is such a thing as true redundancy (when
a part means nothing on its own and on removal makes no difference to the
whole).

The desire for the short and quick may be a cultural trend - increased of
pace of life and all that. Dunno.

In haste,



Colin

----- Original Message -----
From: "grasshopper" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Saturday, April 05, 2003 5:01 PM
Subject: Re: New sub: Mermaiden-Sue


> Dear Sue,
> Thanks for your comments.
> I would disagree that a essential quality of poetry is to use fewer words
> than prose. Often it will use more. One example that immediately comes to
> mind is alliterative AS poetry. Poetry for me is not about what you 'say'
> but how you 'say' it. You could precis Paradise lost, for example, get rid
> of lots of words and lose the poem. I don't think  the idea of poetry as a
> sort of economical use of language, which seems to have become popular
> (goodness knows why) is borne out by the facts.
> I recall the aristocrat who criticised Mozart's music as having too many
> notes.
> To which the astonished Mozart replied , It has just as many notes as it
> needs.
> Kind regards,
>        grasshopper
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "Sue Scalf" <[log in to unmask]>
> To: <[log in to unmask]>
> Sent: Saturday, April 05, 2003 4:22 PM
> Subject: Re: [THE-WORKS] New sub: Mermaiden
>
>
> > In a message dated 04/05/2003 8:59:36 AM Central Standard Time,
> > [log in to unmask] writes:
> >
> > << This poem is more about exploring a metaphor and creating an
atmosphere
> > than
> >  anything else. I am not trying to 'say' anything to the reader, but to
> >  communicate a part of my imagination. So far as I had a conscious
> intention
> >  about this piece, it was about trying to create a poetic experience
that
> >  would give pleasure to a reader rather than about making any statement.
> >  I would be interested to know what others think about what a poem
'says'.
> >  Kind regards,
> >     grasshopper >>  Personally, and this may just be me, I do prefer
poems
> > that seem to have a stronger point than just creating an atmosphere,
> although
> > I have enjoyed many that did just this.  Still, I expect it to be a very
> > vivid presentation.  For me, and this is my opinion, your poem
"Mermaiden"
> > did not work.  The climax trick was not enough nor the  attempted
> evocation
> > of lust.  Poetry uses fewer words indeed; that is one way it differs
from
> > prose.
> > > > >                    Mermaiden
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > She sits on an pearled imperial rock,   should be "a" pearled rock
> > > > > scaly buttocks snug against the shells.
> > > > > Limpets lickle at her fingers, pedicure (lickle?)
> > > > >
> > > > > her tail-tips. She sighs, tastes the salt   tail-tips? tail-fins
> would
> > work
> > > > > on her lips, thinks of sailors, a mariner
> > > > > with tousled chest and blue-irised Irish eyes,  tried to say
tongue
> > twister out loud and that is what it was "blue-irised Irish eyes."
> > > > >
> > > > > sweet matelot. a sea-dog she will leash
> > > > > with the Hokusai whorls of her hair,
> > > > > burnished like sunbeams on wave-curls.  Why not just "burnished
sun?
> > > > >
> > > > > She combs her locks with honeyed words,  a metaphor that doesn't
> stick
> > here
> > > > > blows kisses at the lusty gulls, hears their shrieks
> > > > > climax on a hump of landed orca.  Hmmmm.  Shrieks climax on a
hump.
> I
> > wonder what those gulls are doing?
> > > > >
> > > > > Her heart is brine, harder than Lot's wife,
> > > > > baked and caked by long years on the flats
> > > > > of water. Her eyes are liquid, like her song.    Excellent stanza
> > > > >
> > > > > Beware of her beauty, as cruel as the ocean,  Beware of her
beauty,
> > cruel as the ocean is cliche as far as I am concerned.
> > > > > as eternal as the wash of waves, the wane
> > > > > of shore. She is in her element, you are mere
> > > > >
> > > > > mammal,  juicy and ungilled. A subtle mind is nothing
> > > > > more than tissue. She will lace it on the swell
> > > > > like marbled fat on meat. She will dissolve you
> > > > >
> > > > > into her queendom. You will spill guts, groin
> > > > > and begetting into a sudden maelstrom
> > > > > of sharp reflected stars.  Not sexy at all.  Sounds like the fish
is
> > going to eat the man.  If you said you will spill sperm it might work.
> >
> > I am sorry to be so honest, Grassy, but the whole poem just left me
cold.
> Sue
> >
> >
>
>