Sheila might have something there, Max. Often we 'write' ourselves into a
poem, and then expect the reader to 'read' themselves into it too. I don't
think they do. Too much competition in this media swamped world. (First
thing I look to chop in a first draft are the opening four or so lines!)
(And, with me, often the last lot as well - too much explaining.)
On 10 April 2013 10:26, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> thanks, Sheila -
> I do feel the first four verses don't balance with the later ones.
>
> (I'm haunted by numerous Larkin poems that start low and then try to lift,
> in this case 'Sad Steps', which begins
>
> Groping back to bed after a piss
> !
> may as well copy it in here below)
>
> best from Max
>
> Sad Steps
> BY PHILIP LARKIN
> Groping back to bed after a piss
> I part thick curtains, and am startled by
> The rapid clouds, the moon’s cleanliness.
>
> Four o’clock: wedge-shadowed gardens lie
> Under a cavernous, a wind-picked sky.
> There’s something laughable about this,
>
> The way the moon dashes through clouds that blow
> Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
> (Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)
>
> High and preposterous and separate—
> Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
> O wolves of memory! Immensements! No,
>
> One shivers slightly, looking up there.
> The hardness and the brightness and the plain
> Far-reaching singleness of that wide stare
>
> Is a reminder of the strength and pain
> Of being young; that it can’t come again,
> But is for others undiminished somewhere.
> On 10/04/2013, at 9:57 AM, Sheila Murphy wrote:
>
> > Hi, Max,
> >
> > I find myself wanting this poem to begin with "It was the light . . ."
> > (fifth stanza) and then going forward. Eliminating the first four.
> >
> > So much to like in this poem. Sheila
> >
> >
> > On Tue, Apr 9, 2013 at 4:52 PM, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]>
> wrote:
> >
> >> Autumn Night
> >>
> >> At an uncertain
> >> well-past-midnight hour,
> >> body stirred, person
> >>
> >> in it, of long
> >> association,
> >> stumbled from
> >>
> >> warm bed and carpet
> >> to cool-under-foot
> >> tiles of a moist bathroom.
> >>
> >> Face, avoid the mirror.
> >> Feet, shamble
> >> past the window.
> >>
> >> It was the light
> >> from the night sky,
> >> lacking moon,
> >>
> >> lacking cloud,
> >> lacking wind,
> >> gentle, steady,
> >>
> >> circumambient -
> >> foreshadowing
> >> lawn-wide dew
> >>
> >> or a first frost,
> >> that redeemed
> >> the occasion.
> >>
> >> Out there, down there,
> >> morning would show
> >> more new mushrooms
> >>
> >> sturdy of stalk,
> >> fragile of canopy,
> >> keeping old promises
> >>
> >> made last year,
> >> as the earth turned -
> >> shyly pleased to be seen.
> >>
>
--
Andrew
http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
'Undercover of Lightness'
http://walleahpress.com.au/recent-publications.html
'Shikibu Shuffle'
http://abovegroundpress.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/new-from-aboveground-press-shikibu.html
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