Well... when your father, who is supposed to protect, raise, and love you subjects you to corporal punishment every night simply for being a child... how can you really trust anyone?
> > We are attempting to reclaim AAPC as a *poetry discussion group* by critiquing and/or commenting on various poems. NancyGene obviously didn't care for your poem. My comments from six years ago were that it had some excellent moments, but needed more work.
> The poem is contradictory as well as cliched in a "may the road rise up to meet you" kind of way. We wonder if George Dance read over his poem to see if it actually made sense:
>
"Go n-éirí an bóthar leat," or may you find success upon the road of life.
I love the translation. Yes, it makes no sense -- but that's part of the beauty of it. Wherever you go, may you not have to weary yourself, but may the road you walk upon rise up to provide your every step before your foot is raised. It also implies that as you ascend to greater heights, may the road you walk on rise with you so that you might never fall. I'm sure there are many other ways of interpreting it as well.
That's one of the wonderful things about poetic language: it can have meanings that seem obvious when we read them, but that make no literal sense when examined in the light of reason.
As to its being clichéd, I am not opposed to some cliché in poetry. Cliché can serve to lull the reader into a comforting sense of familiarity -- only to shake them out of it with an original phrase or thought. Cliché only becomes problematic when it is the overriding character of the poem.
There are only so many words in the English language -- estimates vary, but in the area of 600,000 seems to be the generally accepted range -- of which most people are only familiar with about 40,000 (or, as in the case of our resident Donkey... 40). There are only so many ways to combine the that make sense -- just as there are only so many similes and metaphors one can make when observing a rose that readers can recognize and respond to.
Solomon taught that "there is no new thing under the sun" (Ecclesiastes 1:9), and this applies to language as well. What matters is that the words speak to readers -- that they express some thought or feeling the reader may have had, but had not been able to put into words.
I particularly like this passage in George's poem -- although it is both clichéd and logically flawed:
"...may the good times you and I
Once had be points of light to journey by,
Like firelies upon a twilit lawn."
But while the comparison to fireflies might be a cliché, the idea of joyful memories as points of light to journey by is not. In combining an original sentiment with a clichéd comparison, George has tempered the line to make its more original idea appear familiar, and therefore, agreeable to the reader.
Logically, one would be hard pressed to journey with the flickering, and constantly moving, lights of fireflies as his guideposts -- but logic is not of import here. Like the Irish blessing, "Go n-éirí an bóthar leat," the line hints at many things that supersede and transcend logic. For instance, one's memories aren't set down immovably on a scroll. Memories are fluid, and changing, and often flicker up for a moment only to immediately fade away. In this sense the simile works perfectly -- and the speaker's wish that his lover navigate his/her life by such transient lights implies living with a feeling of free spiritedness -- of following the happy memories over and above a more rational, steady course.
> "[...] long after I am gone,
> And may you always keep your thoughts upon
> Our memories;"
> In other words, don't ever forget me, even when I am dead and moldering. Always think of "me."
>
> But then he writes:
>
> "[...]
> True to yourself, not anybody's pawn;
> [...]
> Once more may you remember me, and sigh,"
> But s/he has been cautioned to never forget the speaker, so how can s/he once more remember if s/he is always thinking of their memories? 'Tis a puzzlement.
That's an excellent point. Frankly, "Once more" is filler that serves no other purpose than to keep the meter. Filler is what turns a potentially great poetic idea into an amateurish piece of twaddle. Poe has said that every word in a poem should contribute to its intended effect or tone. No word should ever be superfluous -- but should compromise the poem were it to be removed.
99.999 of rhymed-metered poems written by amateurs are swimming in filler. And, along with gratuitous inversion, it is what makes experienced poets cringe at the thought of reading an amateur's work.
As you've noted, George's use of filler, here, has compromised the consistency of his poem's text. However, it is only a minor compromise. "May you always keep your thoughts upon our memories" needn't be taken quite so literally. "Always" could mean, for instance, at some point in each passing day.
> > If you post your corrected version in this thread, I can compare it with the original and see if I think any of the changes helped.
> >
> > Since NancyGene finds it clichéd, I could go over the revised version with that in mind -- and hopefully help you to eliminate some.
> And pigs are going to fly across the sky when George Dance accepts help.
He says that he's made some changes based upon previous comments that the poem had received, so perhaps he might do so again. The third stanza, in particular, was in need of a major overhaul.
And, while my opinion of George as a decent human being has been plummeting steadily ever since his defense of Pickles and NAMBLA, I still maintain that he is a highly skilled poet, and that his best poems can be perfect examples of their form. My only complaint with them is that their messages are invariably commonplace and middlebrow -- and that his Muse favors intellect over emotion. But that's a personal call based on my prejudices and preferences, and not necessarily a put-down of his work.