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I am a greedy rhizome, sending shoots
to gorge on portions of the yard.
there I am on the step, in the driveway,
under the clothesline, & growing
larger all the time. I wonder
at the wisdom of this, the earth's complicity
in my vice: how it has led my mouth
to this exposed hunger,
edged-dark with first love.
only to be told, after all, some cravings
are only charming when you're small:
I've since learned
to lick my fingers in private
when on my knees in the garden.
| I never got back to you did i.... forgive me, i forget what i was doing that night.|
The sonics of this are extremely great, so too the couplet type layout, i think because it
hangs, allowing the meaning to drop in to place or be
transcommunicated. This, in itself, is rather clever and demonstrative.
If i skip a bit down your poem this phrase. I wonder at the earths complicity- in my vice. Id tell you that is the hinge or the great keystone of this poem. The earth is kind of head shaped and here it is - complicity, pinced, between what is philosophical, in that juxtaposition you are quite magical.
I guess im talking about all that and then the introduction of love and other dark colours, like- why should that be? And i guess the answer lies in that we are unique creatures and also social. That thought social creates a bit of a paradox whenever we examine the individual.
And i get how this poem needs to be read about 70 times. Complicity being bare and vice being hardly honest. so that is a glittering transition into the psyche, you would imagine complicity to be crystalline, not so -our feelings about vice or our gearings toward vice, so, to me its not surprise it creates such a great rhyme, this pairing of crystalline & clandestine
you have got going on in your poem.
So. When you get through the italics part
Its really interesting that site and setting at the end.
Eve or AN eve in the garden of eden, this conscience that has perhaps or in part censured itself- or has it?
I like that setting because its a little naughty. Are the edges (and hedges) neatly clipped, or is everything a bit ragged and in a bit of a tangle.
Then, theres consciousness and the raging of conscience and consciousness v that which is subservient and in a sense docile (like a child) ,
so there, on that knee, its a good place for the poem to end up, like enjoy yourself- whichever read it is, whichever take you want to take, whether its illicit and clandestine or simply a poem about growing up and maybe understanding its ok to be a kid- celebrate that kid- it is a furthering and wonderful read because of those responses.
|| Posted on 2014-07-06 00:00:00 | by Daniel Barlow | [ Reply to This ] || With this I am reminded so much of myself. Beyond the illicit doings this speaks to me of a mind that is so thirsty it can never get enough. |
The roots continue to expand, send off shoots, leach water and soil and nutrient, steal it from others to their detriment... in the end is it really to your good, though? Perhaps as the shoots run and propagate themselves they are slowly becoming weaker, thinner, yellowing from energy gone the wrong direction. Now the mother plant is ailing.
I have often looked at others and seen how they are really good at one thing. They have dedicated their lives to one hobby, sport, or pastime; perfected it to the best of their ability, whereas my interests are spread all over. I know a little about a lot, but not very much about anything. I am a migratory bird.
There is also the feeling of moving too quickly, as though the subject is simply living life from one passion to the next, never mind the consequences. "some cravings are only charming when you're small" could be literal, as in the child freaks out for want of a cookie and though it is supremely annoying it is also cute, or it could be that the excitement only lasts through the beginning of a thing and once it degenerates to the mundane it is difficult to follow through, resulting in a life of chaos.
I really like this one, Santi. You amaze me.
|| Posted on 2011-03-14 00:00:00 | by BlankSheet | [ Reply to This ] || i think this is dense: like you want it.|
i'll have plenty to say on this, but not tonight. just letting you know that i've seen it and that i think it deserves close reading.
|| Posted on 2011-03-11 00:00:00 | by theludus | [ Reply to This ] || OK, so I'm picturing in my head thatstuff that grows in my yard that looks like a weed and when you pull it, there's a long horizontal stems that are just under the surface and it spreads out all over the place, so that what you end up with is a massive pile of one long weed that originally just looked like a long piece of grass. Is that the metaphor you're going for here? |
If so, I'm wondering, why is this poem so NEAT? Perfectly even two-line stanzas throughout, very orderly and well behaved on the page. Seems to conflict with the image of the weed gone wild.
Unlike others here, I do think that you have rushed the ending. I get that there's something sort of sexual, dirty (pardon the pun) or illicit going on, but just not real sure what. You need to let that weed meander around a little more. You've got a good start to creating that image in the first half, but at the exposed hunger the metaphor breaks down. I think your last two lines could work - I'd take out "when" - if aforementioned middle built a stronger and more cohesive image.
Nice start, needs to cook. Just my opnion.
|| Posted on 2011-02-16 00:00:00 | by annie0888 | [ Reply to This ] || Um, Santi, this rocks.|
I think your end is pitch perfect (and not just because it's illicit, oh no). It has spark, wit-- I really dig it.
So I had to go and wiki rhizome, having never come across the word before, so thanks for teaching me something new. I dig how precise that rhizome is, how very botanical it sounds. Details. I love them.
The sonics in your first stanza-- gorge/portions, yummy. You do have a knack for sonics. Yup. I'm going to refer myself to your next part 'clothesline...time-- but it's subtle and easy and natural. It adds a sense of poetry of the piece, it shows care for the craft (yes, Daniel, I'm thinking of you) and it's cool.
This does, this piece does have so much sparkle :)
Edged dark with first love. I like how that speaks to me of obsession, obsessive first love. And it keeps the idea of illicitness flowing throughout the piece. And if I think about that at the end, after the end, it makes me think that this all ties in with desire and love and passion and cravings.
And the sonics continue. Also yummy.
The italicised part helps this along, in that it opens it out a little, it's more direct, in terms of communicating with the reader, it gives some background and helps us to unpick the meaning, the metaphor, and make it something real. I like how, while it does that, this is still so open to interpretation.
(I love that word: verve.)
I like the notion of being illicitly uncharming.
And still we're left wondering: what is the vice??? I dig that, too. I'm left with thoughts of dark love, where jacob has read this totally differently. It's cool, achieving that.
|| Posted on 2011-02-16 00:00:00 | by AlyRose | [ Reply to This ] || the weeds grow...i am like a weed in the great garden of life...insignificant at first, then dangerous, detrimental...i cause harm..as a lover causes heartbreak...leaving the flowers and grass ruined in aftermath...|
the speaker seems to understand his own dangerous side enough..question is...is it too late to change seeds? become a good force...a loyal, gentle, compassionate lover..or is it too late...once a weed, always a weed...until life and repercussions snuff us out.
|| Posted on 2011-02-16 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ] |