moonqueen Posted June 3, 2013 Share Posted June 3, 2013 (formerly 'but a dream'; formerly...) revised piece below who are you the air fairly boils away under the brutal sun as it punishes from mid-sky. white clothing worn by all reflects light so brilliantly my eyes ache, our sandaled feet kick up dust clouds. crowded from behind, we pass the jostle forward. claustrophobic, people-loathing, an experience, unwanted. in the din of unfamiliar sounds is the tintinnabulation of small bells, mingling with the sounds of braying animals and languages i cannot understand. so much bawling and arguing; the anger. nearby there is music unknown to me. the scents invade my senses, cause my spirits to spin in a fit of dizzy. the bit of fresh fig you feed me from your fingers, weeps juice down my chin stains my shirt front pisses me off. the smells of cooking meats, spices, fresh fruit are overwhelming when infused with horrific body odor, animal droppings and vomit. obviously a market or bazaar; never outside my own country, frightened to find myself in so strange a place, no notion how i arrived or where i might be. i turn to you for comfort and find, dear god, i don't know who you are. your face indicates you do however, know me. i turn to struggle through the throng of people, to lose you, but you grab my arm and prevent me from running. a smile plays about your lips your eyes show no harm intended, i let you pull me back to your side. no one looks up when the woman screams. i whimper and cry out, hair stuck to my damp forehead, heart pounding, i am about to become the next woman who screams. you touch my face, ask if i had a bad dream, pull me close and say, 'shhhh, it's alright.' it is the you i know. rev. 05-31-13 07-29-11 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dcmarti1 Posted June 4, 2013 Share Posted June 4, 2013 fresh fig you feed me from your fingers, weeps juice down my chin THAT is poetic, especially. I love the curiousness of the piece as an outsider not in the dream. Nice. I enjoyed it. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
David W. Parsley Posted June 16, 2013 Share Posted June 16, 2013 Hi MQ, I like the way this one manifests the end to enact the experience of transitioning from disquieting dream to comforting reality. There are many ways to it-was-only-a-dream, each unique to its own unfolding. By showing (not telling!) that uniqueness, by letting it blossom organically through the movement of the poem, you avoid the trap of bromide, achieve the sincere and memorable. Nicely done. Incidentally, I share your discomfort with the title, as evidenced by your continuing to tinker with it. You might want to tweak it again. I say that because I think the title still gives away the end and, as stated above, I think your way of bringing that about is a lot of How this poem Means. It also somehow belittles with that "But" a bond-validating sense that comes with recognizing the "you I know." Just a thought. And while I am sharing (let me know if I am crossing the line), I can't help but wonder if the action could be made even crisper by tightening the opening lines. Considering the section below, I respond to an originality of expression, condensation of description, and sense of breathlessness in those last two lines. Nice! the air fairly boils away under the brutal sun as it punishes from mid-sky. white clothing worn by all reflects light so brilliantly my eyes ache, our sandaled feet kick up dust clouds. crowded from behind, we pass the jostle forward. But the lines preceding it do not have that every-word-counts-and-rushes-me-forward, this-is-why-the-reader-should-care immedicacy. The high adjective/adverb count is part of it. If you are inclined to polish this piece further, see if you can compress those six lines into three or four, while bringing more originally turned verbs and nouns into play. That is how I see the last two lines. I hope these comments are welcome and useful. Take Care, - Dave Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dansalinger Posted June 18, 2013 Share Posted June 18, 2013 I enjoyed the read...both times...made me think of the flea market when I was young and strangers...it could be a scary place with all those smells and sounds and crowds....almost forgot the title and was happy and relieved to be reminded it was only a dream.... dan Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
moonqueen Posted June 18, 2013 Author Share Posted June 18, 2013 dc & Dan, thanks for the read and the responses. This was an actual dream I had and it scared the crap out of me. I appreciate the attention. t Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
moonqueen Posted June 18, 2013 Author Share Posted June 18, 2013 Dave, I'm having problems with the reply function. I will try again later. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
moonqueen Posted June 18, 2013 Author Share Posted June 18, 2013 Hi MQ, I like the way this one manifests the end to enact the experience of transitioning from disquieting dream to comforting reality. There are many ways to it-was-only-a-dream, each unique to its own unfolding. By showing (not telling!) that uniqueness, by letting it blossom organically through the movement of the poem, you avoid the trap of bromide, achieve the sincere and memorable. Nicely done. Incidentally, I share your discomfort with the title, as evidenced by your continuing to tinker with it. You might want to tweak it again. I say that because I think the title still gives away the end and, as stated above, I think your way of bringing that about is a lot of How this poem Means. It also somehow belittles with that "But" a bond-validating sense that comes with recognizing the "you I know." Just a thought. And while I am sharing (let me know if I am crossing the line), I can't help but wonder if the action could be made even crisper by tightening the opening lines. Considering the section below, I respond to an originality of expression, condensation of description, and sense of breathlessness in those last two lines. Nice! the air fairly boils away under the brutal sun as it punishes from mid-sky. white clothing worn by all reflects light so brilliantly my eyes ache, our sandaled feet kick up dust clouds. crowded from behind, we pass the jostle forward. But the lines preceding it do not have that every-word-counts-and-rushes-me-forward, this-is-why-the-reader-should-care immedicacy. The high adjective/adverb count is part of it. If you are inclined to polish this piece further, see if you can compress those six lines into three or four, while bringing more originally turned verbs and nouns into play. That is how I see the last two lines. I hope these comments are welcome and useful. Take Care, - Dave Okay, finally. Your comments and suggestions are of course, welcome. Anyone who responds as courteously and kindly as you do, is always welcome to point out things that could help make my work better. I am not certain I've done what you suggested, exactly, but I have tightened up the entire piece. who are you (formerly but a dream [formerly last night]) air fairly boils under mid-sky sun. white clothing reflects so brilliantly eyes ache, our feet cause dust clouds. crowded from behind, we pass the jostle forward. claustrophobic, people-loathing, an experience unwanted. in the din of unfamiliar sounds the tintinnabulation of small bells, mingles with sounds of braying animals and languages i cannot understand. so much bawling and arguing; the anger. nearby i hear music unknown to me. scents invade my senses, cause my spirits to spin in a fit of dizzy. the bit of fresh fig you feed me from your fingers, weeps juice down my chin, stains my shirt front pisses me off. the smells of cooking meats, spices, fresh fruit are overwhelming when infused with horrific body odor, animal droppings, vomit. obviously a market or bazaar; never outside my own country, frightened to find myself in so strange a place, no notion how i arrived or where i might be. i turn to you for comfort and find, dear god, i don't know who you are. your face indicates you do however, know me. i turn to struggle through the swarm of people, to lose you, but you grab my arm and prevent me from running. a smile teases your lips your eyes show no harm intended, i let you pull me back to your side. no one looks up when the woman screams. i whimper, then cry out, hair stuck to my damp forehead, heart pounding, i am about to become the next to scream. you touch my face, ask if i had a bad dream, pull me close and say, 'shhhh, it's alright.' it is the you i know. rev. 06-16-13 Does this seem better? How about the title? I rarely come up with anything 'catchy', but truely, it should not give away a piece with a surprise ending. Thanks, I do appreciate the time you took with this one. tammi Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dansalinger Posted June 27, 2013 Share Posted June 27, 2013 kept my interest and held my attention...original and entertaining....leaves me wanting more...very nice Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
fdelano Posted June 27, 2013 Share Posted June 27, 2013 You know how much I can identify with this, near the top of favorites of yours. You take us to the new place invented by synapses and receptors that strive to find some logic. I like that you put us (me) there as if it's I smelling and sweating. I often wake, as must many or maybe all, just before certain death overcomes me. Yes, night sweats come with the visitors. The detail here is perfect to the emotions and movement. If not presumptuous, I suggest "Stranger in a Strange Land," as a title, with apologies to Robert Heinlein. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
moonqueen Posted June 27, 2013 Author Share Posted June 27, 2013 Dan and Franklin, I thank you both for your time to read and make responses. Sometimes the comments cause me to read back through and see it through the eyes of others. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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