Cindy I liked this poem quite a lot. give me a while & I'll rustle up some
non-opinionated *cough* critique on it. :)

KS

On 26/10/06, Cindy Lee <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
> Andrew, and Patrick, thank you.  In truth, this is only my 4th poem and as
> you say, it's an exercise - but I'm glad that I walked rather than talked
> -
> speaking of cliches, those ones nearly knocked my eyes out when I re-read
> the 'poem' tonight.  Far too many words, also, and the point not reached
> at
> all, not even begun to be understood by me - something about the
> inter-connectedness of loss.   I was beginning to approach it but my head
> was so heavy with congealed words that I had to stop.
>
> I withdrew on the first day of the Creative Writing degree I was due to
> start this month.  It just felt wrong.  I'm still working out 'why', but
> two
> reasons stand out - I can't (as is apparent)/won't write to the clicking
> of
> someone else's fingers, and it seemed yet another way of asking permission
> to start.
>
> The only way forward, as you already know of course, is to learn and find
> by
> doing. I would like very much, one day soon, to submit something here
> that's
> finished.
>
> Cindy
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "andrew burke" <[log in to unmask]>
> To: <[log in to unmask]>
> Sent: Thursday, October 26, 2006 1:03 AM
> Subject: Re: Snap - 25.10.06 Ashes Ceremony
>
>
> > Rough? No, Cindy, not rough. A few near-cliches in the beginning
> > reportage, but otherwise it is fine - I felt an intimacy and sharing
> > there that gave it a graceful tone.
> >
> > A snap is a snap - not a well-drafted poem but the rough sudden draft
> > of one. (This week I cheated and put up a poem because I wanted some
> > response, and (if the truth be known) praise.
> >
> > So, thanks for this. And, please, write many others.
> >
> > Andrew
> >
> > On 26/10/06, Cindy Lee <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> >> Black water
> >> white cliff
> >> silver car disgorged
> >> down the night
> >> ferry road
> >>
> >> A sudden misalignment of
> >> cats' eyes
> >> screeched clutch and brake
> >> sickening resistance
> >> stalled silence.
> >>
> >> It wasn't an owl, you lie
> >> unclawing my hands
> >> and when we reach the house
> >> you distract me from searching
> >> the treads - there are
> >> children and bags to unpack
> >>
> >> But something uneasy
> >> something small feathered
> >> requiring payment
> >> has come home with us.
> >>
> >> A bare 25 moons later
> >> we stand in our hundreds
> >> on the beach beneath the cliff
> >> pure coincidence -
> >> the only Island site to grant you
> >> permission to launch -
> >>
> >> We have come to hurl
> >> champagne-wet cheers
> >> at each gaudy ricochet
> >> of your elemental dust.
> >>
> >> Only I know
> >> only my numb bones know
> >> that after we have left, after we leave
> >> a payment will be made -
> >> as what remains of you
> >> falls to rest
> >> black
> >> upon the
> >> black water.
> >>
> >> This is a virgin snap - my first - a snap back to Caleb's original hawk
> >> and suitcase.  Everything about it is very rough, but the subject was
> >> irresistible, and I have run out of time.  The story and the
> coincidence
> >> of place are true.  Apologies for submitting such a crude thing - just
> >> can't bear sitting on the sidelines anymore.   All comments (apart,
> >> perhaps, from 'Give Up Now'), gratefully received. Cindy
> >>
> >
> >
> > --
> > Andrew
> > http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
> > http://www.bam.com.au/andrew
> >
>