ASLEEP

6 Comments

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  • Humor
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  • Philosophy

    Poem Commentary

    I've taken your suggies to heart and reworked the ending. Now ...
    it seems to make a whole lot more sense.
    It's probably the way the muse was telling me to do it in the first place.

    ASLEEP

       
               ASLEEP



                An Island girl just painfully rose
                The cycle boy moves ...the pram mummy too
                And with uncanny girth,
               for all that she’s worth  
                 she has managed to work her way through it
                Then the chimmy-chime sings,
                 the pram baby clings
                as the mother consoles her beloved


                Again subway cars roar  near a rattling door
                Stands a pungent  ol’ man in suspenders
                Stealing more than a glance,
                from the girl in tight pants
               We again play the sleeping pretenders
                In here...
                the i-pods abound with their internal sound
                and with colors to rival a rainbow
                And the brain flow?


                We’ve got; puzzlers with pens and two trips
                 through the lense
                of two women ensconced in their novel
                 It’s a patchwork of thoughts
                With no bridges to cross,
                 Then we gather our goods  for the ending
                  -‘been a slice
                  So  the speakers advise, as the screeches reprise
                 “THIS TRAIN WILL BE GOING OUT OF SERVICE”
                  But as sure as it’s night, we depart within sight
                  Of a sleeper who isn’t pretending.  
        
        
        
        



         

    Poem Comments

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    Paolo commented on ASLEEP

    07-10-2009

    As I read this edited version of Asleep my hopes were that the nature of it hadn't changed. I am happy to say that the visuals and sense of motion has changed; it has changed, it has gotten better. The new sense is that the speed has picked up pace even so we have not lost the colorful images. At times an author will perform some compassionate surgery on their work; here the surgery works. I will read this one yet again. P.S. I will be forever grateful for taking the TTC and riding the street cars in Toronto. You may have seen me dozing there.
    Reply to Comment

    NevillePark

    07/23/2009

    Thanks Paolo. When something's off you can usually sense it. For me it's like getting a last second triple letter score in Scrabble. The title is verified three times over with the sleeping man at the end of the rail. Usually that guy, (and I've seen him a couple of times) should be left to sleep it off.

    RHPeat commented on ASLEEP

    07-10-2009

    Oh my, Nevelle; it's changed a lot. It appears a lot shorter. You've been chopping at the wood. it's still a strong poem. I still see the window flashing and the people shifting in the car. I feel the train. Good poem. A poet friend//RH Peat
    Reply to Comment

    NevillePark

    07/22/2009

    They should have an emocon for a thumbs up. Maybe a graphic of a thumb and a hand?

    Grito commented on ASLEEP

    07-08-2009

    A ride on rails remenicent of a realist painting by Estes or Goings, alive and vivid, captured as an essence.
    Reply to Comment

    RHPeat commented on ASLEEP

    07-04-2009

    Neville/ I don't think you need the parenthetical phrases, just cut the brackets off them. They really don't look look like interjections to this reader. The ellipsis means something is left out, So I'm not sure they work either. It could be in the sense of the horse: maybe part of a huge list is left out. But it really doesn't need to suggest that to have the reader feel the movement of the train in the poem. The (=) equal you got me there. A (:) colon means one phase is equal to another. I suggest that if that is your intent. What I really love about the form of the poem is the stanzas that act like light flashing by windows as you sit in a moving train. The subject matter does this a bit to. I just find that fascinating that the form and the content are creating pictures in your head as you read to make you feel the train in motion. Nice writing. One word lines? I can't say they offer me much in flow. They are somewhat halting at times. So I question it a bit in the closure of the poem. Good write nonetheless. I enjoyed the experience. The mystery in the opening pulled me right in. The turning is mellow the sounds of ipods to the puzzlers and book readers is fantastic. But because of my feelings about windows I almost think you should break that last stanza again to make it feel like another window. And I love the way some of the windows shift in content as well as the stanza form. later/ A poet friend/ RH Peat
    Reply to Comment

    NevillePark

    07/04/2009

    I think what I'm doing is inventing my own use of those bracket thingies. (Heh heh)I somehow see them as a way to let a reader drop the output; soften the delivery if you will, as I'd imagine in a live reading. I used to love english comp. and putting brackets around clauses was one of my favorite things to do. Good advice though ... I'll edit it when I get my internet back. I'm downtown at an internet cafe now.

    wheelsal commented on ASLEEP

    06-28-2009

    I felt like I was on this train. There were a couple places where it was lost but that might be on purpose. (The screech) For some reason I kept reading it without the and in the beginning. It was also a great visual. I read it for twice for content and then meter. You have a great write.
    Reply to Comment

    NevillePark

    07/04/2009

    Over the years Toronto's subway trains have begun to develope noises that approach but not yet rival the wailing sounds of NYC or Chicago. Montreal has trains which run on rubber tires if you can believe it. Now there's a quiet ride! I'm beginning to learn the process of laying a puzzle out for the reader I think. There's more to learn for sure but it's starting to get exciting for me to write these days. I'm so encouraged by you and all my new friends.Thanx sal

    Poetry is what is lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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