JRJS / Wrong Country / (from Cyprus Poems) / Draft
Jim Sheard
__ Wrong Country __
I claim to be this-island-born
and wonder if all those who sense
the endless loop of coastline feel
as still as I. Are we all best-bedded-down
within the clamshape of the sky
to watch for things that move Upon the Face
of sea, land, hill? Of God, perhaps?
For passers-by,
we keep our own
a little still.
Our upturned wrists upon our laps
we wait while cups of coffee cool
to where that bitter syrup strikes just right
beneath mimosa and Byzantine stone.
We know how to settle,
tap out roots,
gnarl a little in the sun;
know that those who come
will leave. We give our careful faces back
to this Venetian lion's crumbled snarl,
to tales of seagates stormed at dawn
invaders flayed and hung on walls.
I claim belonging, ignoring facts -
but then, that fault is general,
and my purpose dumb but tame:
to see whether my lengthened teeth
will meet on merely softened air
or on some ghostly madeleine.
--
Texts and Readings
http://www.jsheard.co.uk/poetry
sophie
I'm surprised that people have chosen to comment on the other poem and
leave this one entirely alone, as I think it's a lot more interesting.
anyway.
>
>__ Wrong Country __
>
>I claim to be this-island-born
this is an interesting beginning.
nice hook.
nice question to get the reader asking.
>and wonder if all those who sense
>the endless loop of coastline feel
the endless loop of coastline is borderline clichéd, as an idea if not a
phrase.
>as still as I. Are we all best-bedded-down
"as still as I" is ambiguous - as still as I am/as still as I do,
and I'm still not sure if I want this to be resolved or not. I can't
tell how important the ambiguity is, if at all - if not, you might want
to go for one option or the other?
>within the clamshape of the sky
lovely
>to watch for things that move Upon the Face
not sure about our caps.
>of sea, land, hill? Of God, perhaps?
you've got God in there already, with your "Upon the Face" (and I keep
thinking it should be _over_ the face), and the question strikes me as
being maybe weak?
>For passers-by,
>we keep our own
>a little still.
hee.
>
>Our upturned wrists upon our laps
>we wait while cups of coffee cool
>to where that bitter syrup strikes just right
>beneath mimosa and Byzantine stone.
>We know how to settle,
>tap out roots,
don't like this at all
>gnarl a little in the sun;
or "gnarl" as verb,
>know that those who come
>will leave.
nice
>We give our careful faces back
>to this Venetian lion's crumbled snarl,
>to tales of seagates stormed at dawn
>invaders flayed and hung on walls.
this part isn't as tight as the beginning, which is condensed.
>
>I claim belonging, ignoring facts -
>but then, that fault is general,
not sure you need that line
>and my purpose dumb but tame:
>to see whether my lengthened teeth
>will meet on merely softened air
>or on some ghostly madeleine.
I really hate your "tame" "madeleine" pseudo-rhyme.
sorry!
and again, I don't think this says as much as your beginning; but I may
be missing something.
I really like the first part of this, and I think maybe the second part
and end need pulling.
thank you.
I enjoyed this.
--
sophie
sophie
sorry!
--
sophie
Peter J Ross
alt.arts.poetry.comments squeezed the following precious droplets from
j...@jsheard.co.uk (Jim Sheard):
>
>__ Wrong Country __
I'm going to rip into this as hard as I can.
>
>I claim to be this-island-born
>and wonder if all those who sense
>the endless loop of coastline feel
I'm not quite convinced by "endless". I'm also not convinced by the
jogtrotting tetrameters.
>as still as I. Are we all best-bedded-down
Lots of hyphens. Clumsy, imo.
>within the clamshape of the sky
The diction is modern enough, but the sentence structure here and
later is straight out of Tennyson.
>to watch for things that move Upon the Face
The capitals don't rescue the cliché from being a cliché, they just
make it ludicrously portentous.
>of sea, land, hill? Of God, perhaps?
I'm sorry to say that the additional question "And who gives a damn
anyway?" comes to mind here. Victorian/Baroque. Ugh.
>For passers-by,
>we keep our own
>a little still.
Much better, but the words suggest a whisky-still.
>
>Our upturned wrists upon our laps
>we wait while cups of coffee cool
w-w-w-c-c-c - too much alliteration. Alliteration is a rhetorical
technique to give *emphasis*. You might as well write "cups of coffee"
in all caps. I really, *really* hate the kind of alliteration that has
no rhetorical purpose but just "sounds nice".
>to where that bitter syrup strikes just right
Yes.
>beneath mimosa and Byzantine stone.
>We know how to settle,
>tap out roots,
>gnarl a little in the sun;
>know that those who come
>will leave. We give our careful faces back
>to this Venetian lion's crumbled snarl,
Maybe one adjective too many in these two lines.
>to tales of seagates stormed at dawn
>invaders flayed and hung on walls.
There's something weak about "walls". You probably want bathos, but
you've achieved only weakness.
>
>I claim belonging, ignoring facts -
>but then, that fault is general,
>and my purpose dumb but tame:
You've lost me in three whole lines of abstractions.
>to see whether my lengthened teeth
>will meet on merely softened air
>or on some ghostly madeleine.
Ugh. You throw it all away with a mere Proust reference. Horrid.
It sounds good, and it has a shape, but it's as if for once you're on
autopilot.
Having now done my worst, I have to say that I quite like quite a lot
of it.
--
PJR :-)
mhm34x8
marg gold star
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(who know who they are) to make sure the stupid people are aware that
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Jim Sheard
wrote:
>On Mon, 21 Oct 2002 11:03:54 GMT, the heavy rollers of
>alt.arts.poetry.comments squeezed the following precious droplets from
>j...@jsheard.co.uk (Jim Sheard):
>
>>
>>__ Wrong Country __
>
>I'm going to rip into this as hard as I can.
WotNoLube?
>>I claim to be this-island-born
>>and wonder if all those who sense
>>the endless loop of coastline feel
>
>I'm not quite convinced by "endless". I'm also not convinced by the
>jogtrotting tetrameters.
dadumdadumb. Agreed about 'endless'.
>>as still as I. Are we all best-bedded-down
>
>Lots of hyphens. Clumsy, imo.
Unnecessary, too. 'Best bedded-down'?
>>within the clamshape of the sky
>
>The diction is modern enough, but the sentence structure here and
>later is straight out of Tennyson.
Eek! What words are these have fall'n from me?
>>to watch for things that move Upon the Face
>
>The capitals don't rescue the cliché from being a cliché, they just
>make it ludicrously portentous.
Well, I sort of wanted that. Which might temper your fury at...
>>of sea, land, hill? Of God, perhaps?
>
>I'm sorry to say that the additional question "And who gives a damn
>anyway?" comes to mind here. Victorian/Baroque. Ugh.
...or perhaps not.
>>For passers-by,
>>we keep our own
>>a little still.
>
>Much better, but the words suggest a whisky-still.
Hm - sophie thought the other 'still' ambiguous. It hadn't struck me,
and must be dealt with.
>>Our upturned wrists upon our laps
>>we wait while cups of coffee cool
>
>w-w-w-c-c-c - too much alliteration. Alliteration is a rhetorical
>technique to give *emphasis*. You might as well write "cups of coffee"
>in all caps. I really, *really* hate the kind of alliteration that has
>no rhetorical purpose but just "sounds nice".
I've suddenly decided that I didn't write this. Who's spoofing me,
eh?
>>to where that bitter syrup strikes just right
>
>Yes.
Phew.
>>beneath mimosa and Byzantine stone.
>>We know how to settle,
>>tap out roots,
>>gnarl a little in the sun;
>>know that those who come
>>will leave. We give our careful faces back
>>to this Venetian lion's crumbled snarl,
>
>Maybe one adjective too many in these two lines.
Yes - I think the problem's in the last 4 words, in fact.
>>to tales of seagates stormed at dawn
>>invaders flayed and hung on walls.
>
>There's something weak about "walls". You probably want bathos, but
>you've achieved only weakness.
Since I wanted neither, a rethink is in order.
>>I claim belonging, ignoring facts -
>>but then, that fault is general,
>>and my purpose dumb but tame:
>
>You've lost me in three whole lines of abstractions.
That's the trouble with the younger generation - a short attention
span. I blame remote controls. ;^
>>to see whether my lengthened teeth
>>will meet on merely softened air
>>or on some ghostly madeleine.
>
>Ugh. You throw it all away with a mere Proust reference. Horrid.
It could have been worse - A ' Year in Provence' reference, for
example:
and my purpose dumb but tame:
to watch our tiresome bourgeois quest
for ersatz froghood come to grief
at the hands of the feckless French.
>It sounds good, and it has a shape, but it's as if for once you're on
>autopilot.
Fuck, I wish! Writing 'off your turf' is like blundering around in
the dark. My usual approach to Cyprus poems would be a first-person
narrative by Col. Grivas, or something.
>Having now done my worst, I have to say that I quite like quite a lot
>of it.
Bastard!
Thanks for some invaluable comments here, Peter.
Jim
--
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Jim Sheard
<sophieNOSP...@blueyonder.co.uk> wrote:
>In message <3db3d5fc....@News.CIS.DFN.DE>, Jim Sheard said:
>
>I'm surprised that people have chosen to comment on the other poem and
>leave this one entirely alone, as I think it's a lot more interesting.
>anyway.
Yeah, go on, start a pecking party on this one, why don't you? ;^
>>__ Wrong Country __
>>
>>I claim to be this-island-born
>
>this is an interesting beginning.
>nice hook.
>nice question to get the reader asking.
>
>>and wonder if all those who sense
>>the endless loop of coastline feel
>
>the endless loop of coastline is borderline clichéd, as an idea if not a
>phrase.
Sadly, I think you're right - and if the idea is cliched, it rather
scuppers alternatives.
>>as still as I. Are we all best-bedded-down
>
>"as still as I" is ambiguous - as still as I am/as still as I do,
>and I'm still not sure if I want this to be resolved or not. I can't
>tell how important the ambiguity is, if at all - if not, you might want
>to go for one option or the other?
I wanted the idea of stillness (it goes throughout these poems about
Cyprus, changing from a pleasant stillness to a sense of paralysis),
so I'd like to nail it down. Thanks.
>>within the clamshape of the sky
>
>lovely
Really? Good.
>>to watch for things that move Upon the Face
>
>not sure about our caps.
I'm stuck, having read Peter's response as well - I want an ironic
pompousness - but then, caps are too blunt a tool, in any case.
>>of sea, land, hill? Of God, perhaps?
>
>you've got God in there already, with your "Upon the Face" (and I keep
>thinking it should be _over_ the face), and the question strikes me as
>being maybe weak?
I think that might become a repeated criticism. I'll tackle it,
somehow.
>>For passers-by,
>>we keep our own
>>a little still.
>
>hee.
This 'still' was OK for you, then?
>>Our upturned wrists upon our laps
>>we wait while cups of coffee cool
>>to where that bitter syrup strikes just right
>>beneath mimosa and Byzantine stone.
>>We know how to settle,
>>tap out roots,
>
>don't like this at all
Noted.
>>gnarl a little in the sun;
>
>or "gnarl" as verb,
Whatever happened to gnarl? Don't tell me - he's over at PFFA, isn't
he? Anyway: those backforms are always a bit hit-or-miss, it's true,
but 'to gnarl' *has* achieved verb status.
>>know that those who come
>>will leave.
>
>nice
I'm glad you like it - I hesitated over its simplicity.
>>We give our careful faces back
>>to this Venetian lion's crumbled snarl,
>>to tales of seagates stormed at dawn
>>invaders flayed and hung on walls.
>
>this part isn't as tight as the beginning, which is condensed.
Sharp eyes - the last two lines were stuffed in late to make the
switch to the next lines less abrupt.
>>I claim belonging, ignoring facts -
>>but then, that fault is general,
>
>not sure you need that line
OK.
>>and my purpose dumb but tame:
>>to see whether my lengthened teeth
>>will meet on merely softened air
>>or on some ghostly madeleine.
>
>I really hate your "tame" "madeleine" pseudo-rhyme.
>sorry!
<sigh>
>and again, I don't think this says as much as your beginning; but I may
>be missing something.
>
>I really like the first part of this, and I think maybe the second part
>and end need pulling.
I'm encouraged that you found it partially intriguing - the sense of
being detached/stateless/partly-alien is a theme worth exploring, I
think, so I'll attack it properly.
>thank you.
>I enjoyed this.
Thanks, Sophie, for the help.
--
"I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi
My girlfriend blows a boozy goodbye kiss
I see flying squirrels and nightmares of stigmata
Before awakening to find my Trans-Am gone.
Still, I'm feeling pretty good about the future
Everything is peaches but the cream
I'm handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi
Where things are always better than they seem."
Handcuffed to a Fence in Mississippi / Jim White
sophie
<gratuitous snip>
>>>For passers-by,
>>>we keep our own
>>>a little still.
>>
>>hee.
>
>This 'still' was OK for you, then?
I liked it, especially for its alcoholic connotations.
>
>>>Our upturned wrists upon our laps
>>>we wait while cups of coffee cool
>>>to where that bitter syrup strikes just right
>>>beneath mimosa and Byzantine stone.
>>>We know how to settle,
>>>tap out roots,
>>
>>don't like this at all
>
>Noted.
>
>>>gnarl a little in the sun;
>>
>>or "gnarl" as verb,
>
>Whatever happened to gnarl? Don't tell me - he's over at PFFA, isn't
>he? Anyway: those backforms are always a bit hit-or-miss, it's true,
>but 'to gnarl' *has* achieved verb status.
>
I still don't like it here.
>
>I'm encouraged that you found it partially intriguing - the sense of
>being detached/stateless/partly-alien is a theme worth exploring, I
>think, so I'll attack it properly.
it's one that's personally relevant for me, so this may be why I like
this piece.
--
sophie