Original Poetry

giselle · Tue Dec 16, 2008 6:12 pm

i'm no poet but thank you anyway. it was a reluctant morning when i wrote this; a cold, dark morning in Alberta when it seemed the sun would never come up .. and i could feel deep reluctance in my heart, perhaps then seeing it reflected in the environment and the people around me.

Thomas Hood · Tue Dec 16, 2008 6:50 pm

Cereal is a village in central Alberta east of Drumheller. It might be the birthplace of Canadian golfer Marlene Streit. . .In 2006, Cereal had a population of 126 living in 68 dwellings, a 32.6% decrease from 2001.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cereal,_Alberta

".. i guess when you have a feeling in your heart it can be reflected back to you by the environment and by the people around you ... as to reluctant about what, I prefer to leave that to the reader."

Well, since you leave it to us (even though the webpage keeps changing), I'll speculate wildly. You had reluctantly returned to visit family (yours or inlaws) in Alberta, maybe during the Canadian Thanksgiving in October. And it brought up memories you'd rather forget, since they keep you from getting on with the life you have now. How unhappy it seems in Cereal -- the unhappy waitress (who'd really like to leave too), the farmer who challenges you with "What do you got?" -- Ukranian background, maybe? -- and the pipeline worker -- material necessities but not inspiring or relevant. Glad you made it back.

Tom

giselle · Tue Dec 16, 2008 7:13 pm

thanks for the wild guess TH ... it was actually a business trip, I don't have any family in Cereal Alberta, thank God because otherwise I might have to go back. i think my poem is bit more melancholy than i really felt, the people in the poem may actually be quite happy (except for the waitress, she really looked unhappy) but my "reluctance" was something I brought with me.

you are right too that the farmer was a bit aggressive, I think he wanted to show me how well they (Albertans?) were doing, in material terms, and to see if I could measure up .. that's why I answered that all i have is a cup of coffee, because I have no interest in measuring up.

DWill · Tue Dec 16, 2008 8:07 pm

It's a good poem. It could hardly miss with the great refrain, "On a reluctant moring in Cereal, Alberta."

giselle · Tue Dec 16, 2008 8:28 pm

just to be factual, my trip was to Hanna, Alberta near where the pipeline is being built and where the local services are for the pipeline workers (Hanna is no bigger than Cereal) .. we passed through Cereal on the way and so I used that name in my poem ... fits much better in the refrain, don't you think, and somehow 'cereal' and 'morning' go together.

on the stats that Tom came up with, I'm amazed that 126 people live in Cereal ... maybe they're inflating their pop numbers to get more money from the province? or they're counting every farm for miles around.

I had considered a fourth stanza but couldn't come up with anything so I left it, but i think the poem does hang in space a bit. One thing that doesn't come through is how cold and windy it was out there on the "bald-headed prairie".

Thomas Hood · Tue Dec 16, 2008 9:21 pm


	giselle wrote: just to be factual, my trip was to Hanna, Alberta near where the pipeline is being built and where the local services are for the pipeline workers (Hanna is no bigger than Cereal) . . .

On a reluctant morning when even the sun doesn't want to come up, they probably look the same but. . .

Where is Hanna? Located in East-Central Alberta within the Canadian Badlands, . . .

http://www.hanna.ca/

"The Town of Hanna welcomes your interest in our community. Whether it be industrial, retail, tourism or retirement related, opportunity is abundant in Hanna. We take pride in offering urban amenities with a country flair."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanna,_Alberta

"Hanna has had a variety of famous and important residents, such as Kevin Warwick and Lanny McDonald, Marjorie Willison, author and radio personality, a Rhodes Scholar, an engineer, Zach Weich, who worked on both the Avro Arrow and for NASA, and the rock band Nickelback.

In 2006, Hanna had a population of 2,847 living in 1,295 dwellings, a 4.7% decrease from 2001."

My excuse for reference excess is that that we live in the Information Age

Tom

Grim · Mon Jan 12, 2009 11:06 pm

You May Not Know it But I am a Poet

flower soldiers
hurl pollen insults
which peacekeeping bees
are happy to collect

for the glowing people
who will let you among them
if you believe

that along the edge of the roof of the world
giants walk about laughing and fighting
pissing off the edge on those who don't

where within the frame
a cement tree flowers fruit
as man climbs the ladder
up from nothing
grasping at stars in rings around the planet
where no one can see them.

when the laughter stopped
we realized that we had nothing to say

it was only until they all got up and
left that I realized that I had been
alone the whole time

-Grim
Dec 6,2008

giselle · Tue Jan 13, 2009 1:21 pm

Thanks Grim, your poem has a sense of ironic apocalypse that I like.

I have a small contributution of my own. It's a little - different - and a little silly but maybe if one reads it not too carefully perhaps it will be ok.

,

You can't find the , I see
Hey you!
Long white and slender
That cats catch if they can
(I know that pussy has my ,)

Don't , me a line I'm
no invalid character ,
in a cheap B movie
or some taut violin ,
your G , to my A ,
You must understand!
Missing missing missing is my ,

Fine white snake of dreams
Tangled tight
round a trembling heart
Feel that subtle knot!
That choking twisting thread!
(Damn it all I'm so , out)
Oh my lonesome ,
will I wrap your soft magic
round my fingers once more?

Oh Bondage! Freedom! Morality! Brutality!
Horror and Injustice!
Speak lies and tales
of bridge and 12 ,
parallel yet together
as one.

My dear ,
I'm so pleased
That you are free.

GentleReader9 · Tue Jan 13, 2009 1:58 pm

Grim wrote:


	Quote: You May Not Know it But I am a Poet flower soldiers hurl pollen insults which peacekeeping bees are happy to collect for the glowing people who will let you among them if you believe that along the edge of the roof of the world giants walk about laughing and fighting pissing off the edge on those who don't where within the frame a cement tree flowers fruit as man climbs the ladder up from nothing grasping at stars in rings around the planet where no one can see them. when the laughter stopped we realized that we had nothing to say it was only until they all got up and left that I realized that I had been alone the whole time -Grim Dec 6,2008

Wow, Grim. You are certainly a poet and it is true that I didn't know it. But how could anyone have known it before you shared your poetry? I'm glad you did. It seems to me to be just about the best and clearest thing I have ever read of your writing. I hope you write (and share) more. Some days it seems as if I, too, have been "alone the whole time," but on other days when nothing has changed at all really, it seems as if I have never had to be alone. I have no idea what causes that shift in perspective. I just try to get through the times of silence and incomprehension until it feels more like flowers and a glowing whose reality continues far beyond the tainting reach of corrupting hypocrisy, people spitting, and other such difficult elements to existence among the humans. Your poem helped me get recentered this morning. Thanks.

realiz · Tue Jan 13, 2009 4:41 pm

giselle


	Quote: You can't find the , I see

I can see some influence of e.e. cummings I think with the creative use of punctuation. Strings , heartstring.

It sounds so full of emotion and then the final stanza makes me think of someone hiding everything, this turmoil, on the inside and to others just showing a stiff upper lip. Thanks for sharing it.

Grim


	Quote: for the glowing people who will let you among them if you believe

I like the imagery of glowing people. I'd like to think of the glowing people as those who care and who love and try to do what is right rather than those who climb the ladder the highest, but in our world that is not true.

giselle · Tue Jan 13, 2009 7:24 pm

realiz


	Quote: It sounds so full of emotion and then the final stanza makes me think of someone hiding everything, this turmoil, on the inside and to others just showing a stiff upper lip.

Thanks for your thoughts, you are right on. I was hoping the reader would feel emotional turmoil, passion connected to a feeling of absence, loss and confusion, which so often in our world is covered up with a brave face or nice words. We often think its best to cover up, show the world the stiff upper lip, but there can be a deep psychological price to pay because this face is phony.

I used the commas as a substitute for the word 'string' because I wanted to "absent" the main object, which on the surface, is what the poem is about hoping that this heightens the emotional impact. This is ee cummings influence ... oh well, it just looks confusing, like a bunch of out of place commas, but it was a good experiment.

Grim · Wed Jan 14, 2009 10:02 pm


	realiz wrote: I like the imagery of glowing people. I'd like to think of the glowing people as those who care and who love and try to do what is right rather than those who climb the ladder the highest, but in our world that is not true.

Yes well it was the idea that the naturalness of the conflict between what is a mutually productive process is actually under contract for the surreal glowing people. God like as they are and able to reap the benefits of nature for their grand belief where the highest priorities are becoming gargantuan, laughing, fighting and pissing on those who don't. Becoming one of these glowing people actually results in a reality where everything is framed, where cement is supposed to facilitate growth and sustenance. Man is man, not realizing the falseness of a life and a world "up from nothing." I tried to take a very broad image backwards closer to me, the laughter we are taking part in unknowingly is the most common connection to the giants, fighting and pissing we do in private. And then the poem left my thoughts and I was alone again as I had been the whole time of creativity. There is no desired aspect of personal pain or seclusion to this poem.

Not the best I have written but actually the most recent so there you go. More in the future.

:book:

realiz · Fri Jan 16, 2009 8:09 pm

Grim


	Quote: Not the best I have written but actually the most recent so there you go. More in the future.

Look forward to more. Here is one I have written on the theme of 'Love', rather a dark look on failings. I copied structure and the loosely the theme from another poem.

Betrayed

What do they feel?
Wonder, how can they feel?
Do they not understand how we feel?
Two only, lies

Did they not know?
Marvel, they could not know?
Only, they blinded, did not want to know?
Both so unwise

When did it start?
Where, how, why did it start?
If only we could go back to the start
And live as spies?

Why do we ache?
You, me, them, and this ache
How do we obliterate this heartfelt ache?
End to our cries

And they, all fault
Forgiveness for their fault?
Can we live with their huge gaping fault?
Love never dies?

What, what of love?
What evidence of love?
How can such treachery be part of love?
This, love denies

Grim · Fri Jan 16, 2009 8:22 pm

Lots of questions. I try not to do that, in part I suppose it is because I like to show myself to have all the answers - to be the perfect narrator leading rather than hiding. I found your poem hard to read and repetitive, the inclusive "we" added and emotional closeness that I found...uncomfortable. It is a kind of awkward poem though isn't it? That you are putting yourself into a structure and theme that is not your own. I cannot relate to the betrayal, if anything I identify with the questioning nature, but as I have mentioned I try to avoid the hopeless aspect of inquiry which you seem lost to, also I try to keep love in perspective in that it is not something that can be questioned - and so I would "love" to hear your interpretation.

:book:

realiz · Mon Jan 19, 2009 1:04 pm

Grim, thanks for you thoughts on this poem. I guess it was supposed to be an uncomfortable poem. I had read this poem by Robert Graves:

Counting The Beats

You, love, and I,
(He whispers) you and I,
And if no more than only you and I
What care you or I?

Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.

Cloudless day,
Night, and a cloudless day;
Yet the huge storm will burst upon their heads one day
From a bitter sky.

Where shall we be,
(She whispers) where shall we be,
When death strikes home, O where then shall we be
Who were you and I?

Not there but here,
(He whispers) only here,
As we are, here, together, now and here,
Always you and I.

Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.

I had just been reading a bio on Graves about his extra-marrital affairs and imagined this poem to be about an affair and the 'storm to burst upon their heads' would be discovery by their spouses, and the 'what care you or I' was their trying to shut out this worry and enjoy the moment. I thought about their spouses and discovery and pictured the two betrayed sitting together miserably asking questions that could not be answered and I wrote my poem with this picture in mind.

Graves, though he uses repetitive words manages, unlike my poem, not to to sound too repetative perhaps because his poem includes three points of view, his, hers, and narrators, and not so many questions, and also he is a poet, I am just a beginner.
I think it is a good exercise to experiment even if the outcome is not always very good.

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