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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The Cherry Treedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Civilian
    ASL Info:    21/M/Australia
    Elite Ratio:    7.14 - 146/166/35
    Words: 282
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1355
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1870



    Description:
       This is more openly personal than anything else Iíve written, and Iíve actually attempted to use the first person perspective throughout to enhance this. I donít expect only glowing praise as it may be a bit cryptic and the lack of rhyming may appall some readers. Any comments, suggestions (especially on the category it fits into) or questions are heartily appreciated.

    ĎShe comes back to tell me sheís gone
    As if I didnít know that; as if I didnít know my own bedí (not literally)

    From Graceland by Paul Simon


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsThe Cherry Treedots
    -------------------------------------------


    Softly, the skyís lamp warmed the dusky autumn
    Evening and the cobbled path on which
    I walked. The worn stones were encompassed by
    A russet vale of molting foliage;
    Piquant as a Bengal tiger in the
    Morning sun, they held all the appeal of
    Tarnished copper wire in the waning light.
    As the copper forest alloys with the
    Leaden sky, a cherry tree emerges,
    Silhouetted on the banks of the brook.

    It was by this cherry tree that we met.
    I remember it well: in springtime, scaling
    The branches together in a flurry
    Of limbs, with constellations of cherry
    Blossoms drifting atop the placid brook
    Like Roman candlesÖ
    In summer, seeing the heavens echoed
    In the waterís faint hue and leaving the
    Ripening cherries when we saw the maggots
    Devouring their blushing pulp from within.

    I remember, too, the autumn when the
    Blossoms were borne downstream by the seasons,
    And ripe cherries gave way to festering
    Hordes of gnats. The last of the fruit fermented
    Like bad wine, and the inky vinegar
    They excreted fell to the earth in a
    Pungent cesspool of viscous maroon sludge.
    I left the branch to seek the stream below:
    Still you perched, a lark upon the tree,
    Gazing wistfully from the branches until
    One day you swooped into the thicket while
    I swam amidst the swirling chorus of currents.
    I remember it well.

    As I reminisce, the shadows have merged
    Into night and twilight immerses the
    Etched landscape in a deluge of darkness.
    The bare cherry tree melts into ebony
    As the currents cascade ever onwards.
    The evening lapses into a sable stupor
    As I follow the cobbled path back home.




    Submitted on 2005-03-03 10:20:16     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      I thought this would be a genial piece to comment on, given that the other two readers were focused on your vocabulary and verbiage. And I'm certain that you will see condescension in this comment whether I intend for any to be present or not... so I will just speak freely and anticipate the opprobrium. And because I tend to be more meticulous (and somewhat garrulous) with my comments I will give you an almost word-per-word analysis.

    Dusky/evening is kind of redundant as both imply a dimmer, gloomier mood. Obviously I thereby mean to drop dusky, because simply "dusky autumn and.." would make much less sense than its complimentary would. I also don't think encompassed is the right word... It implies being surrounded on all sides, whereas in reality the foliage can only be swimming in a sea of itself OVER the stone - also in light of Orwell's despise for passive verb use as opposed to active, I will invert your sentence; A russet vale of molting foliage prevailed the worn stones. I think this would be a much more concise, and accurate formulation. I don't know if piquant is the best word for a Bengal tiger in the sun, but oh well... The last bit of that sentence is too long and convoluted in its verbiage in my mind. You've maintained a somewhat succinct word use until there, and then you've seemingly deployed more basic words for lack of more precise ones.

    Upon further analysis:

    The worn stones were encompassed by
    A russet vale of molting foliage;
    Piquant as a Bengal tiger in the
    Morning sun, they held all the appeal of
    Tarnished copper wire in the waning light.

    I think your issue is actually the punctuation here. The first semi-colon is somewhat abrupt, and not truly a "soft period" as my english teacher liked to call it. This is what I might suggest instead:

    The worn stones were encompassed by
    A russet vale of molting foliage
    like a piquant Bengal tiger in the
    Morning sun, like the squelching allure of
    Tarnished copper wire in the waning light.

    Similes are a powerful poetic tool, no?

    My final gripe is the word "silhouetted" because you don't say what's silhouetting.. merely where the silhouetting is happening.. Actually, even before that I think an And would be appropriate before the As. It would give the stanza a more self-contained transition. Now back onto silhouetted. I think perhaps "Adorning" would be a better word (and would imply dropping the on that follows).

    I've decided to merely implement my suggestions in brackets as it might be clearer and quicker.

    It was by this cherry tree that we met[,]
    I remember it well[; ]springtime, scaling
    The branches together in a flurry
    Of limbs; constellations of cherry
    Blossoms [adrift] atop [our?] placid [stream]
    Like Roman candlesÖ
    [And], [bemused/or/soothed by] the heavens [echoing]
    In the waterís faint hue, [we left] the
    Ripening cherries when we saw maggots
    Devouring their [sanguine] pulp from within.


    I [also] remember the autumn when the
    Blossoms were borne downstream[,]
    And [the] ripe cherries gave way to festering
    Hordes of gnats. The last of the fruit fermented
    Like bad wine, and the inky vinegar
    They [oozed?] fell to the earth[, into
    a] cesspool of viscous maroon sludge.
    I left the branch to seek the stream below:
    Still you perched, a lark upon the tree,
    Gazing wistfully from [your promontory] until
    One day you swooped into the thicket while
    I swam amidst the swirling chorus of currents.
    I remember it [all,?] well...

    As I reminisce [now], the shadows [merge]
    Into night and twilight [veils] the
    landscape with a deluge of darkness. (You basically are repeating yourself a lot here, and almost without intention... you hint at dark, dark, and darker dark.. but without hinting at meaning or much else.. is this darkness sad? Happy? Transitory? Who knows)
    The bare cherry tree melts into [ebon sights]
    As currents cascade onwards. The evening
    lapses into a sable (heralding stupor? That's it?) stupor as I follow
    the cobbled path [once more] back [to my] home.


    I can't say I didn't like the imagery of this piece, it was beautiful... The ideas hold within themselves a beauty, like a combo move in a fighting game, whether used by you or any other everyman.. But, you don't talk enough about this feminine or other presence that's with you... They become ambiguous and weaved into the details, slowly overlooked.... What's the point here ? Besides remembering the three, and the beauty, and the landscape? Or is that all you wanted to say here... that things can be beautiful if you look at them as such? I think this could easily be something good, but that it's lacking a bit of direction right now (or, that direction isn't clear)... and I also think you could rework the words for more pungency, or poignancy as my english teacher would substitute. Because right now, this seems like poetry that is because it can be, not because it wants to actually be a poem.

    /End condescension.
    | Posted on 2009-02-26 00:00:00 | by Outlaw | [ Reply to This ]
      i dont think that you can underestimate the power of simple and to the point language, and here, to me, it sounds as if you have a dictionary in front of you...Dont get me wrong i understand and study books with great big words in them, but its very different using a word when it summs up whats needed and using it because it sounds clever.

    let me just mess about with a section:

    It was by this cherry tree that we met.
    I remember it well: in springtime, scaling
    The branches together in a flurry
    Of limbs, with constellations of cherry
    Blossoms drifting

    or why not

    we met by this cherry tree
    in springtime,
    scaling branches together
    in a flurry of limbs,
    Cherry blossoms drifting

    i mean this for me reads better because it cuts out the kind of words which weigh down a piece and make it labourious to read, hope you find this honest critique helpful
    ellisa
    | Posted on 2005-03-03 00:00:00 | by ellisa | [ Reply to This ]
      Okay... I personally am a word FREAK, thus, I love your poem with every breath of me. I am of the opinion that a certain amount of so-called "flowery language" can bring a whole new depth to a poem, and I really don't think that this is bogged down at all... so I wouldn't go back and first-graderitize this poem if I were you. (That's just sorta my thoughts about the first comment.)

    This poem definitely made me feel wistfully reminscent, but almost as if I was sickened with something. All of the slightly jarringly (in a good way... if that makes sense) grotesque discussion about the maggots, the rotten cherries... that seemed to bring out the fact that this relationship was doomed to fail from the beginning, but because of its beginning beauty (the cherry blossoms) you keep holding on, wanting to get that beginning wonderfulness back. I think one of the things that really brings this poem to life is the way that you distributed the "gross" words among the "pretty ones", each which helped to juxtapose the other and make the other even more extreme.

    Um, about this line. "Landscape etching in a deluge of darkness"... that's a bit awkward... and the "etching in a deluge of darkness", while it is very interesting wording, is sorta just stuck there, without any kinds of words to connect it with the word before it. If that makes sense.

    Other than that, this is an amazingly indepth poem. I loved it! And oh yeah... Paul Simon is my hero, I love the CD Graceland!

    -Secret
    | Posted on 2005-03-03 00:00:00 | by secret moon | [ Reply to This ]


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    48970

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.


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