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Hypnagogic Metropolis


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Hypnagogic Metropolis

 

Did you used to dance?

is that where the one-two

comes from in your stumble

 

or concrete doorways

across from Mason & Taylor

where the air shudders

with your strong-man

empty handed lifts

 

too many red rimmed eyes

the cold snaps with velocity

around fenced rubble

empty blank stares

eyelids shutter

three-four

 

the conflation of wealth

with freedom telescopes

across the lush green

of Golden Gate Park

leaving only dunes

and homeless camps

five-six

 

pick up sticks

and build a rake

carefully groom

rock gardens

seven-eight

 

the silence here

is the same

ranters-ravers-mumblers

catching up with the pavers

the initial shock

of nine-ten

 

wakes us all up

in fear and

trembling,

again.

Gate(less.thumb.png.dc23b19d2478d37a9f6fcdc563973026.pnghttps://conjurd.substack.com/welcome Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-)

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DrC, very clever. I enjoyed the subtle context shifting. The use of sonics reminds me of Charles Bernstein.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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Thanks Rumi, Joel!

 

Interesting, I have been immersed in editing a book of poetry and have been writing a great deal less for me... This was one of my more straightfoward Urban Scrawl poems, I jotted while on the bus coming home, very tired, but at the point of translation to page, the sound and images became all important, stripping away the heavy handed text...

 

Many Thanks,

 

DC

Gate(less.thumb.png.dc23b19d2478d37a9f6fcdc563973026.pnghttps://conjurd.substack.com/welcome Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-)

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Aleksandra

Dr.Con. What a wonderful piece. I loved. The title captures my attention. Hypnagogic - like a state between wakefulness and sleep. I think somewhere I have read that in the writings of Aristotle were found some references to hypnagogic. So I read this poem and I noticed the fast pulse, the movement of this poem. The missing of punctuations did their work here.

 

Very interesting job. I am impressed.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Fantastic view of the "other side" which coexists like a parallel universe, sometimes seen and heard, often unnoticed, in city surrounds. These parts really take me there:

empty blank stares

eyelids shutter

three-four

 

the conflation of wealth

with freedom telescopes

across the lush green

of Golden Gate Park

leaving only dunes

and homeless camps ...

 

pick up sticks

and build a rake

carefully groom

rock gardens ...

The end seems to give the reader a "butterfly effect" -- it could be any one of us if fate took a different twist:

the initial shock

of nine-ten

 

wakes us all up

in fear and

trembling,

again.

I can't believe you wrote this in the relatively short time of a bus ride. I'm always impressed with and slightly envious of the creative output of others. For me, it's usually a struggle to produce anything. Well done!

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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goldenlangur

Hello DC,

 

 

There's a great twist in your title and also your use of a nursery rhyme -'one, two buckle my shoes...'. The use of a nursery verse like a lullaby to induce sleep contrasts with the sounds and activities in the city that continue late into the night. One imagines a kind of tug-of-war as sleep becomes more and more elusive :

 

too many red rimmed eyes

....

the silence here

is the same

ranters-ravers-mumblers

catching up with the pavers

the initial shock

of nine-ten

 

wakes us all up

in fear and

trembling,

again.

 

 

But while many enjoy 'dance' and perhaps a night out in drunken revelry, sleep is elusive for others as they struggle in freezing conditions (

the cold snaps with velocity

 

across the lush green

of Golden Gate Park

leaving only dunes

and homeless camps

 

 

 

Your poem gives a vivid picture of the city and its denizens in the night.

 

 

 

But I could be well off the mark in my reading. However, enjoyed this very much. icon_smile.gif

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Tony, Golden,

 

Many thanks for your insightful comments. Tony, I have a tendency to write fast and furious, but then take a little while to process when I edit on to screen and then re-edit (usually) a bit latter after thought and my in house editor has her say;-)

 

Golden, that is as good of a summary as any, and put better than I could;-)

 

DC

Gate(less.thumb.png.dc23b19d2478d37a9f6fcdc563973026.pnghttps://conjurd.substack.com/welcome Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-)

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goldenlangur

Good to know that I've done some justice to your work:

 

 

dr_con wrote:

 

Golden, that is as good of a summary as any, and put better than I could;-)

 

DC

 

 

goldenlangur

icon_smile.gif

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Frank E Gibbard

An observational work that paints an SF landscape I do not know. I had to do a bit of googling to contextualise things DC. Found info on the park landscaped by a Scot apparently, converted from scrub & your dunes. Much in this homeless, street performers, you people your panorama thickly and introduced me to a word in your title you clever B, hypno...?? yerwot? A lot packed in. Echo echo, ecco (yes I pasted some of this review from elsewhere, didn't I?) Lazy old me. Frank

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i loved reading this poem. it is really beautifully written. i loved the rhythm that you created to break the different scenes, and yet you achieved a unifying overall effect through this as well. you describe moments and varied observations that are contained within one place. i particularly loved this stanza:

 

too many red rimmed eyes

the cold snaps with velocity

around fenced rubble

empty blank stares

eyelids shutter

three-four

 

thank you, dr

To receive love, you have to give it...

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