Twilight is a recurring time in your poetry. It's a good one. :)
I really love how the red-winged blackbird is is like a spirit animal, or you are a changeling, finding yourself in winged form so that you may kiss the sun. I also really like that there are shades of black in this. the blackbird, the blackberries, twilight which is an-almost dark, the onyx.
The comparison of blackberries to stain glass is also very apt. Yup, each little section on the berry like a pane of glass, and the variation of colors within just one color.
My only thought regards the use of "lips." It deviates from the bird imagery, maybe you could work "beak" in there instead?
I think the format for this doesn't work because the imagery is so "packed." [The imagery is lovely, by the way, and in a word transportive.] Emeya did a nice job in showing you a different method of delivery, effective in its line breaks and overall spacing/pacing. Regarding what you have now, it doesn't read as smoothly as its images ask it to. Specifically, there is something jarring about "I hide" and the following verbs [that refer back to the sun] "wept" and "nestled." And while I understand the shift, and can point out their subject, there is quite a bit going on and not enough breathing room.
Let each image breathe. I'd like to see each rich image as if they are naturally supposed to be there, blending, contrasting, working with one another, while maintaining their own essence. Does that make sense?
Mostly this is a reaffirmation of what Emeya did to tweak your piece. I agree with her choices.
Probably don't need to repeat myself, but the imagery is beautiful. Fantastical.
Agreeing with Bill in that this is much more focused, though he seems to be more familiar with your work than I am. I think the issue here is that your line breaks and juxtaposition are impeding the natural flow of the poem. I also think that it might work better in present tense...as "hide" would resound better with "twilight" and "shine" etc. If I may?
I hide, shrouded in twilight, among
A soliloquy of savage blackberries
Which, with each flight of fireflies, shine
As stained-glass -- as if the sun were onyx
And wept her black pearl tears.
Nestled within the bush
There my purple-tainted lips intercede --
I hide as a red-winged blackbird
And steal a kiss.
Only altered slightly, but I believe that this reads smoother.
*There also seems to be a gap between the imagery of sun and the purple-tainted lips. As though a connection wasn't fully made between the red-winged blackbird and onyx sun. I like this imagery, as it is both provocative and folkloric, just needs one more string to hold it all together. Give it another 5-10 minutes and I think it will obtain that "complete" feel.
I like it better this way, still, i feel as if i want more.
what does a soliloquy of savage blackberries show me?
I want to see how the blackberries are savage and have that be the the soliloquy.
there's describing and there's being and I think this nears something that could be quite mystical but it isn't just yet. I don't know really, I'm in a real slump as far as communicating things goes so it counts out the chance of fabricating an example, I guess it just comes down to the fact that when you read goodstuff you know it, therefore it should be easy to replicate that. It isn't. I think I could replicate this, that doesn't mean it's good or bad, just that I believe it wants to be more than this.
I read this Edna St Vincent Millay poem last night, she was going about her business relating love to winter and there was nothing too startling, for her,
and then at the end she wrote something about the winter stripping away the summer grass of a hill, so she saw something, the shape of something that had always been there but had never really been seen. In a lot of ways I think poetry is simple and you just kick yourself when you see how well others can look. To go all idol on you dog, this needs to build toward that moment, imo.
I like this because it sets out to be something. blackbird (here at ES) writes and a lot of his stuff is
but the problem with this is that it's most likely going to be meaningless despite what it carves out by way of beautiful phrasing.
Nestling within the bush--there my
Purple tainted lips interceded.
I hid, as a red-winged blackbird;
those are your best lines i think. they sort of anchor the piece and bring fallibility to it (which is needed) and hint at a story. Why do these things take on meaning, why are they important? At present I have little to no idea why this poem was written and who it speaks to/for. So perhaps scale back some of the riches and pen in some articulations which tell that story. Then again, I could well have missed the boat.