You drank more than your share, became shattered in the glass of youth, its poisonous truth. Life demands a poetic voice and a poetic view. It's the one truly refined way to paint such moments with grace, to take the shards and paint prisms of light. The line breaks for me are interesting. I'm so disciplined with form that this seems unusual for me. It's actually a good way to create the jagged edges of the experience. Well penned.
Posted 4 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
4 Years Ago
Thanks, Linda. For me, enjambment is important in poems like this, for the exact reason you said. I .. read moreThanks, Linda. For me, enjambment is important in poems like this, for the exact reason you said. I always feel like structure is a great tool for conveying a sense of emotional distress or just for bringing attention to the disjointed nature of the subject matter.
I appreciate all you have to say on this. Your ideas regarding grace are excellent. Thanks again.
I used to always say that it wasn't the many years of my dad raping me that messed me up the most . . . it was how I went on to rape myself for many more years by continually making self-punishing choices, where sex was concerned. This poem paints one picture of how ugly that can look & feel. I honestly can't add a single thought to your word painting, it's so sadly painfully vivid. Some day I will find the courage to paint my own picture of how ugly this looked & felt for me, too! Great inspiration! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie
Posted 4 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
4 Years Ago
Thank you, Margie. It wasn't a poem that was easy to articulate. It took me many years and many atte.. read moreThank you, Margie. It wasn't a poem that was easy to articulate. It took me many years and many attempts to get this close. I feel like there is always more to say, though. I remember when I first started writing I told a friend I had written a poem about some painful experience and thought that was that. He said--there's never just one poem. And, the more I've allowed myself to delve in, the more I've found this to be true. I think we've all got a whole solar system of offerings to create. Maybe they are all working toward one thing. I'm not sure. But, I keep trying.
Thanks for sharing your own journey with me. It's not easy, sometimes, to put stuff out there, but each time I do something shifts or transforms, so I keep trying. Thanks so much.
Having read a number of your offering, this is the first I've felt compelled to comment on, not that the rest were less than palpable … this one just hit the tender marrow of my core.
Perhaps, it's my general love and gentle nature toward the fairer sex that hurt me so when reading this, hoping, wishing, all the time that it's fantasy, a fabrication in creative insight … knowing all the while it isn't.
Being drawn by your every line into the moment under your skin I sensed, even felt, the impact of sorrow, regret, the stunned realization and wish I could have taken it back for you … undid it to be saved for the more loving tenderness I'd have had it be for you, and I welled-up. Left in the grip of empathetically compassionate sadness … ya ever wish you could protect someone?
I may be completely misaligned here, as I know I'm terrible at interpretation, and am so simple and literal-minded, the least bit of ambiguity can throw me off. I hope that's not you I hear snickering at me for my fumblings, but I don't perceive it as confusing … if anything, all too comprehensibly painful. If this is true, I pray it gifted a great feeling of finality and comfort in its release.
Anyway, there are some technical aspects I want to mention, too: I find your metaphor brilliant and original, your imagery vividly real to my senses, syntactic flow envious, but emotional impact and verisimilitude the most compelling and irresistibly spellbinding. Your line-breaks and enjambments read rather awkwardly, but this seems to (somewhat) be your style; plus, it did add a sense of appropriate-feeling disquiet to the ambient mood.
Gorgeous Free Verse work, Ellis, I am humbled to have shared … thank You! ⁓ Richard 🍃
Posted 4 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
4 Years Ago
Hi, Richard. It's lovely to meet you. Thank you for such a kind and empathetic comment on my work. <.. read moreHi, Richard. It's lovely to meet you. Thank you for such a kind and empathetic comment on my work.
I know exactly the feeling you describe with wanting to protect someone. If only we could return to the past and stop things from happening. But there is the grace of poetry and creativity which help us to understand. That is something to be thankful for.
I appreciate, also, your comments on the technical aspects. Enjambment is a tool I use to effect. It is something I use to try and convey a sense when I feel like that sense is important. Jarring is a word that I associate with what I am trying to do.
Your interpretation of the poem is on target, so never fear, you've read correctly. Life gives us life and we can turn it to art, if we are so inclined.
Thank you so much for your kindness and engagement.
An interesting look at regret, shame and anger . . . great images come forth clearly . . . . bringing Persephone into the picture at the end is clever. The use of the word 'light' is interesting . . . it holds meaning . . . exposure for sure, perhaps revelation, and the persistence of truth which cannot be hidden. Nice work.
T
Posted 4 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
4 Years Ago
Thank you, Tom. I think revelation is a great word for how this felt to write. It is an enlightening.. read moreThank you, Tom. I think revelation is a great word for how this felt to write. It is an enlightening experience to put a poem like this out for public scrutiny, but it’s good.
Thank you for sharing your insights and understanding of it.
i don't find it confusing...but i grew up in a suburban type town...with the drinking, the lights shining on the cul-de-sacs, mostly just the moon lighting our way on lover's lane...or by the short walls upon which we would have our teen age touching.
and as young Catholic boys we would date young Catholic girls, who wanted often what we did...but both sides too afraid to go for it....and if it finally happened...all that Catholic guilt...
and yet i am sure there were those who thought...finally....those kids.
the many lights...and the one light that as a poet you shine here on something so many of us experienced but may be too shy or embarrassed to admit.
j.
Posted 4 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
4 Years Ago
Hi, Jacob. Thank you for sharing your experiences and impressions with me. Your ideas are very helpf.. read moreHi, Jacob. Thank you for sharing your experiences and impressions with me. Your ideas are very helpful, as ever.
Catholic guilt is something I haven’t experienced, but I’m beginning to understand how impacting that has been for many others. Crushing to faith, it seems, quite often.
Thanks so much for your visit. I always appreciate your time and thoughts.
For me this feels more nostalgic than anything else. At least parts of it. I see late night scenes from my childhood, out in the cold and dark and getting into all manner of trouble.
I know that's not what you were going for, and it might even seem insensitive as a review. That's just what I feel reading the words.
As to the question of whether or not it's confusing, I don't know. Do we mean the subject matter? It seems to be about the rape of a girl at the hands of multiple boys, who were perhaps her friends, one drunken evening in the suburbs.
The parts where that seems explicit are dark and I feel them that way, but there is an odd quality of nostalgia to the whole thing that just makes me think of fonder memories.
Posted 4 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
4 Years Ago
Hi, Christoph. I didn’t feel your stating that was insensitive in any way. It’s partly the point.. read moreHi, Christoph. I didn’t feel your stating that was insensitive in any way. It’s partly the point. I mean that sort of mixture of the innocuous and the ambiguous and then the dark experience. I read a poem by Jericho Brown called Layover that kind of inspired my approach to this. I wanted the beginning to build toward something that wasn’t obvious until you got there.
I find your comment very helpful actually. You see what I want seen, so, you’ve answered my question. At least for one reader.
There are many striking images here to savour here, Eilis. They feel very fresh and original. I especially enjoyed "pouring over plans growing like mushrooms in the dim corners of their minds", "nothing but shame to cover me" and "the elegance of the defenseless." I don't think the inwards sense of "riddled" works for grass and dew which are on the outside. For me all works well and makes complete sense till I come to "like a man’s cold outlines born in the heat that his own brand of sun and stars throws to the bitter-dark ground." It's a long phrase, perhaps overlong, and the complex image is hard to envisage/decipher. I think you could stop at 'cold outlines." Oh, another point, the title you use the same words in the poem. A shorter title "Covered by light", etc....might be better. G
Posted 4 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
4 Years Ago
Thanks very much for this constructive review, Gerald. I kind of knew the last lines were my stickin.. read moreThanks very much for this constructive review, Gerald. I kind of knew the last lines were my sticking point, but have had a hard time figuring out how to correct that. Your idea is a good one, I’ll explore that and see what I think.
Also, noted regarding the title and riddled. You’re right about the title not being particularly strong. I’m not good at choosing titles. It’s just something I struggle with. I’ll give your suggestion some thought.
I appreciate your critical eye on this one. I do want to get it right. And I respect your opinion. Thank you for commenting.
The lulling tone of this in contrast to the content makes the subject all the more stark as does the structure it gives a bearing but then pulls the rug out from under you! Enough of the mechanics tho cause it feels wrong to even talk of them when the subject is so much more important... I want to say to that girl that the shame is not hers. That the broken record repeat of degradation that mulls its tune is a weak gutless coward that clings to the walls of the wretched and prostrates at the first glimpse of expose. Unable to shroud the true beauty that is you. that is what I wanted to say to that girl
Posted 4 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
4 Years Ago
Thank you for this, Robert. This is a very compassionate thing to say. You’ve actually made me cry.. read moreThank you for this, Robert. This is a very compassionate thing to say. You’ve actually made me cry, but in a good way, right.
powerful and dark and touching, to bring such delicate poetry to such a bad scene, you have my total respect for rising above,
Posted 4 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
4 Years Ago
Thanks, Gram. That’s a very nice comment. I always feel like delicacy makes a thing punch harder. .. read moreThanks, Gram. That’s a very nice comment. I always feel like delicacy makes a thing punch harder.
My earlier memory of boys, is not so much carefully planned grooming, more careless and haven't got a clue fumbling.
I emptied many a glass in my time, but was fortunate enough never to slip into the shadows of a suburban midnight.
This is a very powerful and moving poem.
Beccy.
Posted 4 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
4 Years Ago
Thank you, Beccy. Boys were kind of a mixed bag as I remember. Some very careful in how they present.. read moreThank you, Beccy. Boys were kind of a mixed bag as I remember. Some very careful in how they presented themselves and others less so. The careful ones were the ones to be cautious of, I think.
Ritual is: 3am rising; the creak
of stairs and denial
of coffee. Ritual is: aching
for sun to disappear,
catching the hours in my palms
like moths and
watching them circle the old-light
o.. more..