I like the way this poem breathes. It's perfect, a mini-organism of moving rhythm and a singular mysterious image. It's short enough so I could do a little accent-marking in my head, hehe (welcome back to the days of poetics...) The poem starts out with the stress on every other syllable, from "your" to "Hands" until it reaches the 3rd line. There the rhythms changes into stress stress, unstress, stress stress, unstress unstress, etc... You get the idea, it's shaken up and gives the line a very disrupted, sharp rhythm that goes well with the image in the line. Then the last line is goes back to the stress, unstress, and is like an exhalation that finishes the poem. I like how you separated "kitchen drawers" onto separate lines to kind of stitch the two rhythms together seamlessly. Love it! Wouldn't change anything.
Bahaha, you do me way too much justice. I'm beginning to feel slightly envious (only very) of your sufferings (?) in poetics. I wasn't paying attention to the rhythms of the lines when writing this. Just wanted to do a quick little portrait, like a sketch before the real painting began. But I love how you can intuit intent from such things.
Remember that chapbook "Carbon," by Michael Ford? I'm still obsessed with it; in it, he has a few poems titled "Portrait" with the same vignette-type feel.
Unrelated: (one of my old painting teachers once knew an artist, an old man, who used to paint just single pictures of lemons, using nothing much besides oil and egg-whites, and only on blocks of wood.)
2 comments:
I like the way this poem breathes. It's perfect, a mini-organism of moving rhythm and a singular mysterious image. It's short enough so I could do a little accent-marking in my head, hehe (welcome back to the days of poetics...) The poem starts out with the stress on every other syllable, from "your" to "Hands" until it reaches the 3rd line. There the rhythms changes into stress stress, unstress, stress stress, unstress unstress, etc... You get the idea, it's shaken up and gives the line a very disrupted, sharp rhythm that goes well with the image in the line. Then the last line is goes back to the stress, unstress, and is like an exhalation that finishes the poem. I like how you separated "kitchen drawers" onto separate lines to kind of stitch the two rhythms together seamlessly. Love it! Wouldn't change anything.
Bahaha, you do me way too much justice. I'm beginning to feel slightly envious (only very) of your sufferings (?) in poetics. I wasn't paying attention to the rhythms of the lines when writing this. Just wanted to do a quick little portrait, like a sketch before the real painting began. But I love how you can intuit intent from such things.
Remember that chapbook "Carbon," by Michael Ford? I'm still obsessed with it; in it, he has a few poems titled "Portrait" with the same vignette-type feel.
Unrelated: (one of my old painting teachers once knew an artist, an old man, who used to paint just single pictures of lemons, using nothing much besides oil and egg-whites, and only on blocks of wood.)
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