Copenhagen by Magnolia

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Submission Name: Copenhagen dots

--------------------------------------------------------

Author:	Magnolia
ASL Info:	31/ F
Elite Ratio:	6.14 - 402/377/27
Words:	140

Class/Type:	Poetry/Nostalgia
Total Views:	794
Average Vote:	5.0000
Bytes:	1084

Description:

Copenhagen dots

-------------------------------------------

Blinking away earthen bits
plucked from the wind,
we were lost
in a cacophony of
vendors,
vagabonds,
and
sex traders-
the different dialects
carrying secrets and
blowing out our eardrums.
4 am and the
bitter taste
of Danish mustard
was still scorched
in our mouths
despite three pints at the pub,
and a fight.
Jags that were taxis whizzed past,
wafting marijuana- Christania beckoned from the hill.

Then you were gone

Driving techno beats keeping time
with stoplights and foghorns
chased me through the square-
seaspray stinging my skin sober.
A panic arose.
Struggling to focus across
the fountained courtyard
where pigeons slept
before churchbells,
I saw you there
beneath the black angel,
lost in reverie
amidst chaos and unfamiliarity.
We embraced there
at
stoney
feet
until the sun came up.

Submitted on 2005-03-06 18:33:31 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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

||| Comments |||
  This poem not only gives me solid images before my eyes, but also other sensations. I can taste the mustard and feel the sea spray. You do not go into depth about your feelings moment by moment, instead you let your vivid imagry do that. I also love how you intermingle the olde with the new. You contrast sex traders and techno with the church bells and the black angel, making your poem practically leap out of the computer screen.

VanillaLeaves
| Posted on 2005-10-14 00:00:00 | by VanillaLeaves | [ Reply to This ]
  hello there ..

I wish i had something critical to say, but being a scandinavian I am blinded by my romantic lenses. THe taste of mustard and the beer atmosphere of denmark was reflected in a just way here and made me miss the flat lands just south of my own homelands

'sea spray stinging my skin sober'

another sentence that so well catches my own association with denmark ..perhaps from too many trips as a teenager across the northern seas in the ferry to get cheap danish beer and schnaps and sobering up while hanging around the ferry terminals ..

anyways ... thanks for the romantic remoniscing thoughts that came with this without the lumps and knots of cheese that normally is attached to it .. lovely

gnomely,
Christian
| Posted on 2005-08-26 00:00:00 | by x-ianhoyskolt | [ Reply to This ]
  Wow, is all I can say. Everyone else has commented on why this was a great poem. You managed to incorporate all five senses into this piece, which gives an overall read that is hard to define, but is so sublime. I love describing poems like this, it takes the reader into your own world for that moment in time, like I was there myself beside you. Thanks for this, I think you managed to be added AGAIN to my favourite's list lol. And I only have six fav's so far... I don't like favouritism but jeez, you make it so hard lol. Peace. Great words, you.
| Posted on 2005-07-05 00:00:00 | by alteredlife | [ Reply to This ]
  Congrats on your gold ribbon! The first part oddly reminds me of being in a marketplace in Mexico (minus the Danish mustard, of course).

Then you were gone

Driving techno beats keeping time
with stoplights and foghorns
chased me through the square-
seaspray stinging my skin sober.
A panic arose.
Struggling to focus across
the fountained courtyard
where pigeons slept
before churchbells,

I like the sensory details in that. I like how the beats are in time with the stop lights. Since I have synesthesia, I notice things like that. They often seem lost on others.

I saw you there
beneath the black angel,
lost in reverie
amidst chaos and unfamiliarity.
We embraced there
at
stoney
feet
until the sun came up.

I like the idea of embracing at the feet of a statue. It sounds like something out of a movie.

There are a few things that I noticed that aren't major. All of your hyphens should be dashes. I think you could say something like "Jaguar taxis" over "Jags that were taxis whizzed past," but that's your call.
| Posted on 2005-04-05 00:00:00 | by cuddledumplin | [ Reply to This ]
  ...there's a particular way and thus peculiar way of saying things how they are/were.
some call it diary, others reportage.
this the latter I think and done with a naive, almost breathless charm. esp when the subject matter is den lille halvfrue and the square mile around her. so hans, kristen and their son knew what you got a whiff of and you translate well.
i think.
you have a no-nonesense way of sketch-booking things down and by some form of divine intervention the whole stack adds up quite neatly*.
I have been to Copenhagen.
I found the mustard there passable fine.
but your narrative form based on special shared mind meld photos is too parochial for some I think.
I think that I wouldn't worry about that.
unless you want to reach the masses on a regular but (carefully) unannounced basis...
Later,
K

*neatly.
I would hazard that you might fall on your sword if the word neat or one of its derivatives were assigned to what you writ when you wrote it. that said, I bet you are quite neat though...
| Posted on 2005-04-05 00:00:00 | by Awkward | [ Reply to This ]
  the beginning reminds me of the very first time i got lost in chinatown. yes, first time; i've been lost there plenty of times since - they're has to be an easier way to navigate those unmapped side alleys. it's sensory overload, listening to grating syllables talk over guttural grunts, in different tonalities and inflections to indicate the mood of a million different life stories, walking around, constantly being written, written over and re-written. every square inch of what perhaps is only a 25 block area has a different taste in your nostrils, a different scent on your tongue and it's a wonder you can stand to not just stand there and catalog them all. but here it is darker than my forays into that neighborhood of los angeles. here there are old world vices and pre-dawn proclivities of things that are unfamiliar to me in my naivete. it is at once frightening and thrilling to be given a chance at this sliver of a glance.

there is a formatic and symbolic break between the first and second halves of this that reinforces the other, where our heroes lose track of each other after a fight that wouldn't have been noticed but for the separation. i like that. i love how you run to old world safety amid new world attractions, these bright sounds and loud lights no longer a whim of your wanting; i love finding your partner there beneath a dark angel, and found comfort from stone on your backs until the sun came up again.

i have been trying to write about this for ... i don't know, 2, 3 weeks? now. i've been trying to say something worth saying. nothing ever seemed to do this justice. i would tell you know how every word of this i want to know for myself, and how i keep coming back to this just to see what i'm still missing by haunting my familiar unknowns, but i think i don't need to, that you'd understand that, had i not told you. gorgeous piece. thank you for sharing. =]

~Blue
| Posted on 2005-03-28 00:00:00 | by blueorchids | [ Reply to This ]
  Holy Cow. This is one of the most wonderful poems I have ever read. The way it's written kept me reading and I believe that this website loves you for bringing something needed to it. You have brought a beauty I can't describe to this site in this piece.
-Sageeriol
| Posted on 2005-08-16 00:00:00 | by sageeriol | [ Reply to This ]
  Hmmmmm I am not as fluent a critique artist as the others, however I must say I really liked this. You, maam are a very acomplished poet. I am humbled thinking my stuff was good. I applaud you standing.
| Posted on 2005-03-11 00:00:00 | by BenCollier | [ Reply to This ]
  i really enjoyed reading this, Mag. it reminded me of when i was in Amsterdam with two friends. we traveled Europe for one month on the trains.

i could almost feel the dirt in my eyes, hear all the different dialects and see the street vendors in this piece. it is very sensory, and i like that. i can see how one would be thrown into a panic at losing the one you're with in such a strange atmosphere, but finding them again would be like a long and comforting sigh. very very nice.

~Shalom
| Posted on 2005-03-11 00:00:00 | by magnicat | [ Reply to This ]
  I love this one Mag, it has a stream of consciousness feel as though you are a scribe recording the thoughts as they happen. I saw comment above on form, though I think this one works. If it were longer it might run into difficulty but not here. Your descriptions are great, and you cover the entire travelogue, plus sharing it with someone gives us that special feeling. It reads like a dream, really, and I imagine that's exactly the way it felt. Very cool, and so well done.
peace and love,

Nan
| Posted on 2005-03-11 00:00:00 | by nansofast | [ Reply to This ]
  Hey gal, some advice on this. No blasting though... Form! Form! argh freak it...We've started plowing through the horrific terrors of restricted form, but somehow it doesn't stay "etched in my mind for eternity", though it was quite frightening. About your form, I've gotta say, you've got quite a nice free verse there, yet you've gotta try and use this free verse as a visual image.

Something I learnt: Forms. In free verse style, you've gotta try and make up for the lack of rhythmn and rhyme within your poem, with something substantial. (That's the reason for the invention of free verse in the first place) For example, you could try for example, for description of raindrops:

Drops
(Space ten times)Drops
(Space twenty times)Drops
I wonder if this comes out as I've spaced. Anywaes, it's the importance stressed on the theme/s of your poem that you've gotta try and enhance within the poem. And you could try using a last solitary line(not quite sure what it's called, though..) to emphasize what you're trying to say, to leave a more lasting impression than usual frightening lessons on "Form".

I dun noe much about the topic but have shared what i think you could use. Your poem is quite nice in it's own form, but you could use some of these tips to help with editing if you wish? Not that I'm saying i noe more than you of course...I'm quite the stupid guy who thinks that lessons on Form is stupid and boring.

Sebby

Wounded Pride
Because of
The lack of
Comments on
My pieces
That's very
DIshearten-
NIng, Sadly
I never
Am able
To conjure
Good enough
Imagery
To persuade
My readers
To even
Blast the damned
Poem To
Bits and PIeces.

That's the cause of
This wounded pride.
| Posted on 2005-03-09 00:00:00 | by Sebby | [ Reply to This ]
  Well, for starters I had no idea that Copenhagen was in Amsterdam (LOL) ( I had to get the phone , and after 20 min came back to the page and saw that comment, sorry -lol)

I liked this a whole bunch, this is a different flavor you have stirred up here, and it evokes a feeling of nostalgia, and a communing of souls, far from home, yet and intimate togetherness shared in a land of strangers ,- a land where the customs are so fifferent form "home", yet where you feel a closeness perhaps even greater than in your homeland, because you are both sharing the same moments, -you itemize the scents and sounds, the sights, -even the taste of the Danish mustard, yet what you say is "we shared". "we were so close, so intimate, yet outdoors in a different world. It is like sharing a dream, or both being abducted by aliens, then returned safely- and because those few hours spent together were so far away, they become far more special in memory, than the 2,001 one time you kissed under Gramma's rose arbor.

It was a special time
This is a special poem
|Sally
| Posted on 2005-03-09 00:00:00 | by Silverdog | [ Reply to This ]
  "A panic arose.
Struggling to focus across
the fountained courtyard
where pigeons slept
before churchbells,
I saw you there
beneath the black angel,"

<3<3<3. I like pigeons...
Anyway thanks to you beautiful comment i thought i would pop by and see what you can do with words.
I really like your words. 'tis true they are like pictures. they painted this image in my mind that i like quiet a lot, though it has a sad dusty feel to it.
This is a very pretty work. Wonderful I must say
-cig
| Posted on 2005-03-08 00:00:00 | by Cigarette Smoke | [ Reply to This ]
  wait a sec did you change something in the last like 2 min.? Ayway I could have sworn there 3was a refrence to a she and/or I thought maybe Christania said Christina or something like that, plus that would make a whole other piece wouldnt it ??????????????????
| Posted on 2005-03-08 00:00:00 | by LameMansTerms | [ Reply to This ]
  Hey, dont you just hate when someonme stgarts offf their comment with well I'm here because youasked me to be here so here I am- whoa well la di da, allright I saw the Mag Signal so I rushed over to lend some assistance [because you asked me] haha. I thought this was a pretty good poem, and I dont know what going on byut this ais about the 3rd poem in 3 dqays wityh a lesbian relationship is brought up. Weird HUH? Anyway I didnt know that you went that way? Not that I blame you if I wetre a cxhick I'd be all over it. You know Amsrterdam is on top of my list on places I want 5to go -sderiously that place just says Mike GET YOUR ass herer and ENJOY this Marijuana and I say YES YES YES but No I never have beckoned that call. Cascophony now to my understanding that means harshness to the sound of something. How does that really relate to ythe vendors? I' could believe the weed is fkn you up but I dont think that is what yoiuy are rtalking about.[sorry I am using a new keyboard and its really clumbsy, now I have an excuse for all my typo[dsa]s. Anyway I liked your poem and now I think its gotten some comments to think about and + My job is done here. Interesting "a Lesbian in Amsterdam"=HMMMMMMMMMMM~L.t
| Posted on 2005-03-08 00:00:00 | by LameMansTerms | [ Reply to This ]
  i like this poem. it made me think and picture things in my mind like a story. pretty good here. i also liked the pic upon it, i have a couple drawings but i dont know how to edit it so it will fit on my site. if you can tell me how that would be great.
| Posted on 2005-03-06 00:00:00 | by jermwerm | [ Reply to This ]
  yes. it is photo album. I think that it is fine the way it is.

I love the sensations described in the first part of the poem.
Not only do you provide a solid picture, but also taste, smell, and sound. It is poem that can be savored with all the senses. From panic to relief, from chaos to peace, the reader feels all.

- its quite 'sensational'
- Paris Fry
| Posted on 2005-03-06 00:00:00 | by pyrrhic victor | [ Reply to This ]
  I can see you've got it going on here, girl. Very discriptive, encompassing all senses. A virtual tour. I disagree about it being choppy. It flowed pretty well for me. Great use of "cacaphony" one of my favorite words. Gives a good discription of the chaos surrounding you, especially in a foreign land. Unfamiliar with daily sounds. Good solid ending. You dont leave the poem hanging up in the air, and everyone asking "what happened next". This is a good write. Keep em coming.
Carol
| Posted on 2005-03-07 00:00:00 | by wannabe1 | [ Reply to This ]
  Wow..I read that several times. I think you are quite a skilled writer. I just recently started writing poetry myself and all I have to say is I hope I can write that well someday...
| Posted on 2005-07-28 00:00:00 | by t0_eazy | [ Reply to This ]
  this has a really romantic and yet gritty feel to it...a kind of before sunrise meets Casablanca. You find yourself in the middle of this sin-stained street-level world, but you find something very pure and beautiful in it. There is a safety amoungst the danger, a gem amid the dirt.

Your descriptions are vivid and words well chosen. There is a richness to this. There is a sadness to this. There is a longing undefined to this.

K. I've said enough and could likely ramble on for another 100 words and still give you nothing of value. And that would be because I have nothing of value to say, other than I think you've said what you wanted to say in the absolute perfect way.
| Posted on 2005-03-23 00:00:00 | by deadndreaming | [ Reply to This ]
  well here i am.
again.
because you asked, i arrived, and this puts a certain pressure on that i am not all too comfortable with-
and this is not your fault.
just what comes with expectation.

and so i do not know what you expect.
if i am to continue in the commentary that we have been giving, then i would say that this is refreshing. your words certainly are different here from what i have read previously, and for me change to some degree is always a good thing.
the voice is different and not as feminine as as been seen before, and i think it is good becuase not only does it read as one piece but it acts as a good foil to other works of yours.
your words give life to a hustle bustle city that seems to never sleep and make you feel like you are in the middle of a whirlwind, and you are not trying to force anything or contriving anything to be over profound, you just comment on what you see and experience, and this can often be the best thing to do.

this said, and this will still stand, i feel your structure is confusing and perhaps contrived slightly.
formformyawnyawn, i know. and i get sick of hearing myself saying it.
and on1eday i will just go:
'"I can relate! Great write! Love the [[flow, wording, rhyme]]. You rock!'
but not today.
i think that the breaks and the central one line stanza are ok, but the structure and the one line lines and the scattered downward movement do not work here in my opinion.
it is all about concept.
and the problem is that you are talking of bustling streets that cause nausea and restlessness and perpetual motion and everything flying by you like fast fowarding a film and yet you slide the words and hover them like something totally the opposite.
for example:
'in
our
mouths'i can not see what this adds to your piece.
in my opinion it slows us down at a point when you are building us up to a point, and thus you completely deflate its impact.
your second stanza adds as the break and the breath fo air that is needed.
and then you do it again in stanza 3
'where
pigeons
slept'
again,
why?
what does this add?

when i think of busy cities and streets that are winding and full i might think of your piece like this:
'Blinking away earthen bits
plucked from the wind; we were lost
in a cacophony of
vendors,
vagabonds,
and
sex traders-
the different dialects carrying secrets and
blowing out our eardrums.
4 am and the bitter taste
of Danish mustard was still scorched
in our mouths,
despite three pints at the pub, and a fight.
Jags that were taxis whizzed past,
wafting marijuana-
Christania beckoned from the hill.

Then you were gone

Driving techno beats keeping time with stoplights and foghorns
chased me through the square-
seaspray stinging my skin sober.
A panic arose.
Struggling to focus across the fountained courtyard where pigeons slept
before churchbells,
I saw you there beneath the black angel,
lost in reverie amidst chaos and unfamiliarity.
We embraced there
at stoney feet
until the sun came up.'

you could really play at breaking the lines in places where you may not conventionally do so as to put a sense of confusion and dizziness to reflect your words.

and this is just how i see it.
and the words are evocative and deserve the attention.
take care
on1eday.co.uk
| Posted on 2005-03-08 00:00:00 | by on1eday.co.uk | [ Reply to This ]

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