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    dots Submission Name: The Cherry Tree (final)dots

    Author: Civilian
    ASL Info:    21/M/Australia
    Elite Ratio:    7.14 - 146/166/35
    Words: 159
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1636
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1057

       This is a rather drastic editing job of my original 'Cherry Tree' poem- maybe edit isn't the right word as I completely cut half of it and didn't change much else.

    I was reading through it and realised that the rest was just preamble and unecessary concluding, and I think it's easier to understand what I was talking about here (hint: think of relationships). Cheers

    Note: I had edited this again as a perceptive reader pointed out that rotting limes would not give off maroon ink or allow maggots...back to cherries then.

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

    dotsThe Cherry Tree (final)dots

    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 lilac
    Blossoms drifting atop the placid brook
    Like Roman candles…
    In summer, seeing the heavens echoed
    In the water’s faint hue and leaving the
    Ripening fruit when we saw the maggots
    Devouring their mellow pulp from within.

    I remember, too, the autumn when the
    Blossoms were borne downstream by the seasons,
    And ripe fruit 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.

    Submitted on 2005-04-05 10:10:51     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I read the original, and then the revision. I preferred the original. Yes, there was a lot of rambling, but really didn't mind that.
    I don't like the blockiness of the abridged structure, I felt the long lines were in some way complimentary to the length in post one.
    I don't like the capitals at the beginning of every line. I've mentioned that before, I think? But I really don't like them here as you choose to apply a great deal of enjambment, breaking lines and continuing your sentence ...as a new, different sentence.
    That could work, if you'd cannily made each line valid in its own right as well as in a stanza. But you didn't, and so... I hate the caps, i like the poem but hate the capital letters. They're jarring and disruptive, to me.

    An abstraction which I feel obliged to identify is "Roman candles". Roman candles are a type of cordite firework, and a cherry blossom is a petal. There is a world of difference between the two and unless you explain that difference, the phrase is rendered abstract because it does not make sense. Just looks really pretty.

    I don't like the unclear ending, the uncertainity as to what was said in the poem. In the end, the narrator is swept away by the brook, while their partner is a swooping lark? Was the narrator a leaf or a bird? A leaf would fall in a river but why would a leaf love a bird? Was the narrator a bird then? Why did the narrator get washed away, were they dead? Did the narrator-bird just drop dead from the tree and float away???
    Who knows, not me? I think that if metaphors in poems are used to such an encompassing degree then they should hold the answers to their meaning. Otherwise the reader just goes away knowing what they read, and how someone else felt.
    They rarely know what it was about.
    That's the [censored] about metaphors. None of us are mind-readers.

    Another gripe I have is the sentence formation. It's very long-winded.
    "I remember it well: in springtime, scaling/The branches together in a flurry/Of limbs, with constellations of lilac/Blossoms drifting atop the placid brook/Like Roman candles…/In summer, seeing the heavens echoed/In the water’s faint hue and leaving the/Ripening fruit when we saw the maggots/Devouring their mellow pulp from within"
    It's all one long sentence, regardless of the line breaks. That's why punctuation is so precious. By all means use long sentences, it's just that the punctuation needs careful assesment. There's only so much enjambment does. The arrangement of the capitals also, in this form, might give you a better understanding of my dislike.
    I think that throughout, the sentences are a bit long because you use such flowery language. If each line is crammed with occasion and description, it can be a job to keep attention on the poem's main theme. So back to the punctuation point and giving things a chance to sink in.

    I do appreciate the love you have for words, and your feel of language. I like reading your poems, I like your vocabulary and your thoughts. For all its criticisms, this was still enjoyable and intelligent. It's also a treasure to find someone who takes their poetry seriously.
    Good luck n all that
    | Posted on 2005-04-20 00:00:00 | by Learah | [ Reply to This ]
      I might comment on the poetry of your poem after you've sorted out the biology of your poem. There are two trees commonly referred to as LIME trees. The first is the European Tilia, known to Germans in the famous song Der Lindenbaum. This is a large deciduous tree with paleLIME green leaves. It is not in the citrus family and its fruit are insignifant berries that would dry rather than rot.
    The other LIME tree is a member of the citrus family with small sour green fuits. It grows no larger than a large bush. You'd be hard put by indeed to climb it. It does not fruit in the autumn, but like most citrus trees over the winter. It is so sour and tart that it would virtually never rot and particularly not in the autumn. The lime fruit is absolutely immune to maggots because of its high acidity. The interior could nevr be an ashy colour, but green or yellow. Most limes do not stay on the bush for long after they are ripe, but fall to the ground and shrivel and eventually rot, but they would never ever bleed maroon ink. If you are going to write a naturalistic poem, know your subject before you write about it.
    | Posted on 2005-04-05 00:00:00 | by hanuman | [ Reply to This ]
      Holy Cow mate.

    Hold on, this was a beautiful expression of the seasons and love. And then...well...festering, rotten punginess...


    I really enjoyed the idea in the first stanza of "Of limbs, with constellations of citrus
    Blossoms drifting atop the placid brook
    Like Roman candles". It's a very rich image and it does draw me to moments I've spent, lazing away on those perfect days. It is followed with an equally strong image of
    "seeing the heavens echoed
    In the water&#8217;s faint hue"
    Excellent and romantic poetry.

    I'll probably read this again, I think it can go on the favourites just now untill I understand it a wee better..

    Good work
    | Posted on 2005-04-05 00:00:00 | by Sanny | [ Reply to This ]
      It is poetry like this that makes me wish I could interpret poetry. I feel like I can not get a grip on why this poem works. I don't usually enjoy free-form as well as prose, but this piece's symbolism and afterthoughts were a refreshing breath of poetic air. The imagery is brought across with ease and the vividness with the description of the rotting limes was truly intense. I believe I understand it, but oftentimes I have been known to completely miss the points of the poet. Thank you for a poem which was emotionally evoking.
    His Assholiness-
    | Posted on 2005-04-05 00:00:00 | by His Assholiness | [ Reply to This ]
      its a very nice peiece has an indepth meaning tho in form of story line it may seem without profound meaning each may consider the lark a symbol of something i especially like the ugly pictures of maggots and fester u drew that to me symbolled despiar but by far the most powerful image to me was perhaps the most meaningless

    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

    it signified to me so many thing potential to carry so many profound meaning such as hope or something else but all in a very successful piece of poetry :)
    | Posted on 2005-04-05 00:00:00 | by Shadows Life | [ Reply to This ]

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