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sleeping spinhx


eclipse
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A cat’s slumber is broken

by a rambling bird that

manages to keep hold of

food for its young. I steer

one of my brood to sleep with

a story about a sly God who

wakes a sleeping sphinx with

a clock lowered from the heavens.

My son sleeps with eyelids anchored

in a dream; upstairs a pregnant

snoozing queen is incubating life-

I put my ear to her womb and my

unborn son tells me a story about

a tribe’s indifference to a prophetic

dreaming sphinx that talks in her

sleep. In my living room a spider

sleeps at the end of a thread

above the flames of a coal fire-

on the ceiling a different spider

is constructing a web that catches

the sphinx’s visions. Figures my son cut

from card are scattered across the floor-

time cuts out my dreaming self as I fall asleep.

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Maggie London

I don't believe the line lengths are doing the draft any justice.

 

Here's a link that might be helpful.

 

http://www.danagioia.net/essays/e13ways.htm

 

 

The more I read this the more I think it's narrative and you should ley the lines breathe

and do their work these wonderful images.

 

 

 

A cat’s slumber is broken by a rambling bird

that manages to keep hold of food for its young.

 

I steer one of my brood to sleep with a story about a sly God

who wakes a sleeping sphinx with a clock lowered from the heavens.

He sleeps with eyelids anchored in a dream.

 

Upstairs a pregnant snoozing queen is incubating life-

I put my ear to her womb and my unborn son tells me a story

about a tribe’s indifference to a prophetic dreaming sphinx that

talks in her sleep. Etc..

 

 

 

Nice.

 

 

 

Maggie

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Maggie London

Forgot to tell you the ending kind of fades away to clichés.

 

 

Almost like you got tired of writing.

 

 

 

Maggie

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Forgot to tell you the ending kind of fades away to clichés.

 

 

Almost like you got tired of writing.

 

 

 

Maggie

 

sorry I disagree-the ending isn't cliched and I didn't get tired of writing..

Edited by eclipse
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Maggie London

I disagree back. Compared to the language and image-creating skill in the rest of the draft, this reads like a throw-away line:

 

time cuts out my dreaming self as I fall asleep.

 

 

 

And in my humble O, it doesn't have enough strength to support the poem above it.

 

 

 

In answer to your email Q: the usual route-mother with child.

 

 

 

Maggie

Edited by Maggie London
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