Hi Rob
I really liked this. It has the charm of an unfamiliar occupation or skill
being brought very close and opened up.
I'd have to say I found the first two lines very confusing, and couldn't
quite see how they fit in. I think there are challenges here (not even
possible to explore in the formatting that comes through on e-mail) about
how you present this as either three parts of one poem or three poems as a
series.
Line breaks are used to really good effect and the poem throws up all sort
of rhythms, some quite surprising and also patterns of sound. I'm almost
tempted to wish there were more obvious differences between the structure
and rhythm of the three. Slow is quite clearly slower in pace than quick and
has a rather more dignified tone (though even then I think it could be
accentuated and the spondees in line 5 have a distinct slowing effect for
me) but I don't find it quite so easy to get a feel for the style that
characterises "dodging".
I enjoyed the repetition in the last stanza. I think there's something quite
metaphysical going on here around emptiness and the circle and coming home,
but my brain has not fully got to grips with it yet.
Best
Helen
----- Original Message -----
From: <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Friday, March 26, 2004 2:46 PM
Subject: New sub: Wheel, Rope and Bell
> I've been tinkering with this one for about three years now, and am just
trying to iron out any remaining glitches.
>
> Rob
>
>
>
> ****
>
>
> Call her: Out of the hunt, middle, in and out at 5, right, middle, wrong,
right, middle and into the hunt (4 times repeated)
>
> Change-ringing instructions.
>
>
>
> Wheel, Rope and Bell
>
>
> The Quick Work
>
> There are hammers in this
> and flat swung clamouring
> bronze flung skyward.
> Treble and bass,
> saint-named, stake claims
> in the course, and every cascade
> thrown from the high-stone
> speaks in the steely wind;
> preaching fear and elation
> to the opened fields.
>
>
> Dodging
>
> Follow through columns,
> see the twist of the courses:
> The one bell falling and gaining.
> In slow, half turn, right, middle,
> wrong, right, the second half-turn
> and into the hunt.
> An echoing silence.
> Strands of the peal
> knell wracked in the songbirds;
> A strange competition
> threading the thermals
> with dissonant rainbows
> of primary sound.
>
>
> The Slow Work
>
> The edifice wrought by wheel and rope
> is of definite time, and its foxlike employment
> will fall and diminish, wrong and home.
> The touched observation of circles and calculus
> must end in nothing, rest in the stone.
> Out of the hunt, called and repeated,
> four times repeated, wrong and home.
>
>
>
> Rob Yeatman
>
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