Wednesday, December 5

i haven't been writing lately. this is from november

the table set for one the candle

wicking a dirty line

of smoke i drink the wine i take

the pill while with a breath flame

flattens to tongue

mouth flush in spice remembered

the liquor that does

not taste of figs the melon sweet but

empty o --

what could fill

3 comments:

ablefires said...

i've taken my poetry break and now i'm BACK! and rustier than ever. you know, what really grabbed me about this one was the 3rd line. i love the rhythm, "of smoke i drink the wine i take." it's iambic tetrameter, and reminds me a lot of the dylan thomas poem (which i can never memorize). the geniusness of the line is that there are 3 separate sections to the line which make sense in their own context, and yet the rhythm really brings them together aurally. the sounds are really beautiful in this poem, specially the 4th line, "while with" and "breath flame." i love the way you've done lots of enjambments and how the contextual sense of the words flowing from line to line creates friction with the aural quality of the lines and makes new sense of the words that are together in the same line. "breath flame" is really great for example. the f's and "uh" sounds are cool. i think the end doesn't do justice to the coolness of the rest of the poem. maybe end on "empty o?" i feel as if "sweet" is a very saccharine (bad pun) word that pales in comparison to the other taste senses you give earlier ("mouth flush in spice," "figs,") and maybe a sharper word could be effective? i was thinking "tart" - something with a jab. or you could end on "empty?" something more striking? i think of an empty melon. i really like this poem and the syntactical play you're doing here and this could be really cool with some fiddling around with the ending. <3 MORE!!

ablefires said...

p.s. this poem is so dirty and i love it. it's like a sensual bad-ass drinking-alone-and-pregnant poem.

umeboshi said...

drinking alone and pregnant! how did you guess? hahaha

this is very much one for the back of the drawer (or whatever...); i didn't really want to post it 'cause it's so bloody melodramatic.

i think i was trying to find the "empty" sense at the end of the poem...but i'm at a loss. i do agree that it needs to be a bit more cruel than are images of fruit. heh

p.s.: you are unfairly astute. i'm really envious of how you can so elegantly unravel sound and sense. cheers