Hi TruOf course i don't mind. 😊 CheersMaureen
Sent from Yahoo Mail on Android
On Sun, 27 Jan 2019 at 14:59, Tru Dowling<purplepoet@xxxxxxxxxxx> wrote: Hi
Andy, Wahibe, everyone, Thanks for your feedback so far, guys, and sorry Wahibe
that my poem didn’t arrive. And thanks for resending my poem, Andy. I have been
taking my parents for ice cream at Guildford during this cooler break in the
weather so haven’t been around, as you predicted! I’m glad we’ll be reverting
to group emails next week. I am finding this system a little confusing and am
not sure if I’ve received everyone’s poems or not either. Thanks, Maureen, for
the wk 1 recap. It was really useful. I’ll use your system to get my own
contributions in order for next week if you don’t mind. In the meantime, I will
try to respond to 3 other poems tonight & a couple tomorrow if people are fine
w that. Much care, Tru
Sent from my iPhone
On 27 Jan 2019, at 4:34 pm, Andy Jackson <andyjackson71@xxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Oh, curious. I have it, though I also can't find the original email.
Since I saw this email, I may as well re-send the poem myself, just in case Tru
is out and about :)
Andy Jackson
http://amongtheregulars.com/
On Sun, Jan 27, 2019, at 4:00 PM, Wahibe Moussa wrote:
Tru, I didn’t get your poem. Would you mind sending it again? And just to be
sure, could you cc wtmoussa@xxxxxxxxx please?
wxx
On 27 Jan 2019, at 2:29 pm, Andy Jackson <andyjackson71@xxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Hi all,
First, I have to say, I'm genuinely really really impressed with what you've
all come up with this week. In a sweltering heat-wave, every poem has at least
one stunning element to it, and many are hugely original. You may decide to
re-work, re-edit and polish your poem soon, but it can also be useful to leave
them for a little while, look at them when the workshop is over. Whatever you
decide, I think many, if not all, of these poems will have ongoing lives.
Oh, and while I think of it, thanks Mary, for persisting through the mysterious
technical glitches. Unless anyone particularly minds, why don't we revert to
direct emails next week? In other words, rather than sending everything to the
poetryseason2 email list, we could just send group emails - my first email
obviously will have everyone's email address in it. As long as we all use
"reply all" and with new emails we send them to everyone, we'll avoid any of
these glitches in future. I think it's worth a try. Let me know if you're
uncomfortable with this, of course.
And, Kirsten, thanks for emailing the other day, and I hope things are easing
up. I'm very happy to give feedback to your week 2 poem whenever it comes,
whenever you like. Though, also, no need to stretch yourself beyond the
possible.
Now, to this week's poems...!
Emilie's "Cocoon" - There's a lot to really love about this poem - the
self-deprecating and intimate voice, the lines which shift from clipped to
expansive, and plenty of unusual music, too (eg "shoes rubble the floor /
clothes weep from drawers"). "Chemicals hurl my body into erratic thermostat",
"I don't woman well", "vacuum from time to time" are all phrases that are
unembarrassed at the sheer reality of being human but also critique the weird
gender expectations our society has. The title is right, too - cocoon as place
of transformation which in the poem becomes a place of both changing and coming
face-to-face with the absence of change. There's a little bit of repetition -
death arrives in stanza 3 and is then elaborated on in stanza 4. And something
about the third stanza feels underdeveloped, as if the poem is just emerging
but hasn't fully found its feet. The musings on "other places" is interesting,
but perhaps should either be fleshed out a bit more or dropped (maybe shifting
the first two lines of the stanza might help). Just on that, as an experiment,
I put all the lines into left-justified, and it seemed to read better - I'm not
sure the shifting from left to right adds a huge amount to the poem. The other
alternative, I think, would be to have the lines strewn around the room of the
page, if you get what I mean.
Jessi's "Walking down Koornang Road" - like Wahibe, I think there's no reason
to be embarrassed at all. This poem captures the area to me (I know the road,
though I don't think you need to to read the poem), and it also evokes a really
intimate personal history of place, as if all that's being talked about is only
just below the surface. The depiction of the trees is gorgeous and lyrical, and
I also love the opening line. Mr Orlando is vivid, too - the humming, the sign.
The personal aspect of the poem is really strong, too - the suggestion of
casual violence and of stress and of survival - the "bitten nails ... [and]
trails of cells" resonate for me. It's somewhat mysterious who is being talked
about here - who is the "you" and the "her"? They don't need to be spelled out,
but there might need to be a little more. Perhaps the poem is around six to
eight lines longer. The other aspect I'm unsure about is the refrain of "here
is...". I can imagine it working as a performed poem, but in the first stanza,
on the page it feels a little unnecessary. I wonder about changing the
line-breaks to put some of the "here"s into different places - or,
alternatively, even removing some of them. I do love how the last stanza uses
the "here", and the lines start to speed up and break; stunning; so, it's worth
trying to keep that effect (which probably requires setting up the refrain to
some degree).
Julie's "Thought place" - I really loved the conceit of this poem, the idea of
exploring the place where thinking happens by simply showing objects and their
associations. There are some really striking images here, too - "a red rose
trapped in curved glass" and the opening line are two huge highlights for me.
The couplet form works well, too - along with the double space between them -
this gives me a sense that thought happens in the spaces between things. I'm
wondering about capital letters - does it need any at all, given there's no
punctuation elsewhere in the poem? Also, a few of the phrases are a little too
general or ambiguous, for my aesthetic anyway (they feel particularly exposed
in such a sparsely laid-out piece) - I wondered about "lazy boomerang", "tin
bees", "an important green plant" and "exquisitely rendered notebooks" - all
these I think would be really potent with a tiny bit more specificity or
expansion. It's such a powerfully suggestive and subtle poem - talking about
thought without spelling the thoughts out - that it seems to me that each image
wants to ring out quite clearly.
Mary's "The shit people leave in books" - Such a rich and original idea for a
poem, and executed with flair. I love the strange mundanity of the "shit"
that's been left behind, but I also love the tangential connections between
these objects and the short poems that follow them in response. There's wit,
estrangement, revealing and real dialogue, and some really striking shifts of
tone and language. I loved "when the Depression was greater / than it is now",
"the same pit / that snakes her head", "he used to carry the kidneys / on a
rose-petaled dish", "feel my body itch / from the inside". There are only, for
me, a few points where the poem feels to reiterate points that are already
there. For example, in the opening, do we need "by their covers"? The "awful /
offal" pun was well-done (pun intended), but I'm not sure it will bear
re-reading (though I can imagine it as spoken word). Also, I'm wondering if the
"again / and again / and again" is necessary - "you stab me with her name" is
such a stunning line by itself. The other, broader question I have is about how
the poem shifts from third person (her) to first person (I). It seems to pivot
in the 2nd book section, where there's a "she" then a "you". I wonder if the
poem should be consistent. Or are these different people, the she and the I?
Five books is probably the right number - it felt neither too much or too
little (though at the same time, I could imagine this as an expanding series).
Above all, though, a memorable and moving poem, with some leavening dark humour.
Maureen's "Where I Belong" - This has a really engaging and intriguing opening
stanza, so clear and open, making me wonder what will come next. The poem stays
at its desk, but the world is there, accumulated in scars and memories - this
is really satisfying - it affirms the interconnectedness of things, and it's
deeply human, and somehow very Australian (we all feel, I think, a belonging
and an alienation). As with other poems - and this isn't surprising, given the
short time you all have to write - there are a few phrases that could be pruned
back a little. "long / journeys and owners who / have left their mark" feels
quite general and almost cliched - maybe the poem wants something more specific
and direct. The last sentence of this stanza is stunning, so perhaps it's just
"the scars of previous owners. I search...". That's just one idea, of course.
Similarly, "transport / me once more" could either be expanding - where are you
taken, what's it like? - or it may not be necessary. I'm also ambivalent about
"adds another level" - the poem gives us this other level, so you don't quite
need to say it. The composers and their depictions are strong, and they lead in
well to the climax of the poem. This ending is satisfying and a nice closing of
the circle, but I wonder if technically it contradicts itself - not belonging
here, yet belonging everywhere. Paradox is ok in poems, of course, so keeping
it is an option, but it did make me wonder if it could be simplified somehow,
so it ends with a punch. Congratulations, Maureen, you've packed a lot into a
small space here.
Rachael's "Horseshoe Bay" - There's a tremendous energy behind (and within)
this poem - it has a really engaging blend of lyrical, ecstatic connection and
philosophical-reflective distance. The rhythms of the lines, as well as the
sentiment and visuals, sweep the reader along. The opening is stunning, though
I wondered if "wordlessly, but to the bone" needed an "and" or a comma instead
of "but" - and I also was a little confused by the shark-spotter unzipping the
blue (thrilling phrase, but it held me up a little). There's something perhaps
that stands out about the tense in the start of the second stanza ("walked"),
but I loved how this stanza traverses time so swiftly and well, and I also
loved "my old new house I'll never own". The brief pulling out of the poem,
then plunging back in, in the fourth stanza is good, too - these things can
seem odd, sometimes, but this works well, especially given the start of stanza
five. "January straining to turn sand into glass" feels slightly awkward in
terms of its music and its meaning, so I wonder if there's a way to have that
flow a little smoother somehow. Finally, I think the ending is so hard to pull
off. This is really good, but there's something about it that feels somehow a
little too deliberate. Maybe it's the "again and again", I'm not sure. Feel
free to ask me to clarify - it's such a subtle little qualm I have here - just
something to think about perhaps. A beautiful piece.
Tru's "Ink Unearthed" - I found this such a fascinating, searching, lyrical
poem, Tru. Yes, I've seen the film, and it reminds me of it, especially that
scene near the end you're referring to, but I expect readers wouldn't
necessarily need that context. The poem really captures the dislocation of our
non-indigenous (fragmentary) knowledge of constellations, implying a haunting
loss of orientation, which is reinforced with the last two stanzas, the
not-quite-home of literal home. There's a really powerful shift from deeply
lyrical phrases in the second stanza, to the really stunning and direct
depiction of the neighbours. Something about these two aspects of the poem feel
slightly under-connected, as if the poem shifts a little too abruptly, or could
break into two poems. If I had a radical suggestion, it would be to swap
stanzas three and two (there may be other permutations that you might like
better) - this way, the poem weaves the elements together without spelling
their connections out, as if the focus shifts from sky to house, outside to
inside, and back. Also, while I love "my friend", it's somewhat confusing, in
that the poem seems to be both first-person and second-person. Is this
deliberate? I might be missing something. One final, tiny thing that I wondered
was the word "lie" in line 4 - perhaps a more sensuous and active word, like
"brush" or "place". Regardless, a powerful piece here.
Wahibe's "Apokalypsis" - This poem takes me to Patmos, and inside a very
personal story (yet a story with implications for many others, even anybody
living in the West, though especially those with religion in their background).
There's a purity and authenticity to the language, I feel - it's not trying too
hard to be poetic or narrative; it's present in the place and its
reverberations. I loved "they're proud of the world's end here", the words
"kidself" and "fullpump", the direct vernacular of "mate", the exploration of
the value of doubt, and the ending with its blessing of tears. The only thing I
think might need some thought (and experimentation) is the overall structure.
When the poem breaks down, remixes, plays with, the word "apocalypse", this
felt like somewhat of a tangent - it's thrilling, absolutely, but I wonder if
it could be more integrated into the poem overall - could it be a refrain,
which is repeated throughout the poem, after every paragraph or two? Could it
start gently at the beginning, then become more and more reiterative as it
goes, then disappearing at the end? Or, what might the poem be like without
that element (that's another option). Either way, there's a tension and
build-up in the poem that I think needs to be respected, even amplified. There
may be little details to cut back here and there - eg "the air [was] like a
gentle breath [it] held me" - but it's a really moving and thoughtful work
which never overplays its hand.
Andy Jackson
http://amongtheregulars.com/
Wahibe Moussa.
Navigating
Words
Action
Direction
☎️
+61 405 604 465
📥
wtmoussa@xxxxxxxxx
yawahiba@xxxxxxxxxx
I ACKNOWLEDGE THE AUSTRALIAN AND ABORIGINAL AND TORRES STRAIT ISLANDERS AS THE
FIRST INHABITANTS OF AUSTRALIA AND ACKNOWLEDGE THE TRADITIONAL CUSTODIANS OF
THE LAND WHERE I LIVE, WORK AND LEARN.
<Tru Ink Unearthed.doc>
