are involuntarily strangers.
They hide their smiles from my sloping gaze--
slow their pace when I walk,
take comfort in the knowledge
that I am but a passing
and that nothing that moves
ever stays to say goodbye.
And yet I,
who have seen lesser gods than these
rise to their fossilized temples,
I watch their weary eyes
to see a gleam cut through the gentle fog--
so I leave my loneliness in porcelain jars
on their windowsills
to thank them
for making me whole
as I walk.
Finally in Ottawa. When is this chapbook publication again? Someone should probably post about it, wink wink.
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We are thinking that the launch will be the 15th of may. If Max manages to get a reservation somewhere - we were going to do it the 22nd but Mike's busy so we had to reschedule - are you able to make it? Please say yes :D
So to the poem:
The first stanza is just fantastic. The title going into the first line is great and just such an excellent idea. And the lines "nothing that moves / ever stays to say goodbye" are brilliant. Really really love. It just feels authentic the way you write about it - maybe it's just because I know you and know that you've been spending time away from home lately and that's why, but it just sounds like someone who's traveling wrote this.
I was a little on the fence about the line break of "slow their / pace when I walk", but I'm deciding that I like it because it feels like someone walking by and their pace being somewhat interrupted as they turn their head to stare. It brings focus to the moment, which is exactly what you wanted, I think.
Unfortunately, I'm not a fan of the second stanza at all. It feels like it switches tone, diction, narrative and pace and just doesn't work for me. It feels like a different piece entirely. The word choice threw me off in particular - it seemed somewhat casual before, and then became elevated with parts like "And yet I", and talks about "lesser gods" and "rise to their fossilized temples" and "weary eyes".
Not only that, but I thought that the narrative was extremely difficult to follow. It was very abstract. I don't know how this speaker has seen lesser gods or who/what said gods could be, and then the mention of tiny paper wrappings was also confusing. So even as a piece in and of itself, it would need work to polish it up in terms of clarity.
It's an interesting concept though - and I like the line "to see a gleam cut summer god" because it reminds me of that brilliant summer sunlight when you walk outside and smelling fresh cut grass. "Fossilized temples" was also an intriguing idea so I think if you just expanded to form a narrative it would be really great.
So now that all that sounds terribly harsh, I just want to say again that I think the first stanza is fantastic fantastic fantastic! Love it. Keep it and have it as its own poem. It's perfectly self-contained and complete in my opinion.
Marta, you are so wonderful for making me wonder about why I bother to post these at all when there are so many transcription errors. I looked it up and realized I transcribed the old version of the poem--here is the latest one, as of 12:32 PM.
Yes. I like that. Very good. The second stanza seems much more tangible. I think specifically the line "so I leave my loneliness in porcelain jars / on their windowsills" is the moment that grounds it because it feels as though the speaker is actually holding on to something physical, even if it's still extremely abstract. I like.
And I like the last three lines. They work really well and get back that tone of the first stanza that I missed so much! It's much more hopeful this way, somehow. The first one was quite sad and lonely, but I like that the speaker by the end actually goes through a sort of transformation and personal change with their self-assertive action.
I still think that the diction is a little elevated in the second stanza though, compared to the first - I think it's pretty much because of the "And yet I" line. It just seems lofty.
Anyway a very good edit! I approve :)
MSMC. Because she writes such epically thorough comments.
First of all, I really like how the title is actually the first line of the poem. It makes the reader step right into the poem without breaking the flow at all. I was strolling along with the speaker before I even realized it.
I agree with Marta that the first stanza is great. It feels so natural and passive. The line "nothing that moves/ever stays to say goodbye" is just...it's awesome. It's my favourite. My second favourite is "to see a gleam cut through the gentle fog." Everything about this poem feels so still and lonely, but there's a warm glow beneath it that feels so comforting at the same time.
I have to agree, though, about the loftiness Marta was talking about. Not so much the entire second stanza, just the first three lines. At first everyone is equally lonely and distant, but then suddenly in those three lines the speaker kind of puts himself above the other people, which I think contradicts the general feel of the poem. Those lines suddenly jump into some kinda abstract place.
Everything after those 3 lines though is just beautiful. I love the image of loneliness in porcelain jars. Everything seems so fragile and precious, even though they're at a distance.
I really liked this piece.
The title leading into the first line was a great idea. My twist would be to put 'are' in parantheses.
I feel like you captured lonliness in a new city quite well.
"and that nothing that moves/ ever stays to say goodbye."
Great line. Shows how fragile the human psyche is and how much loss affects us.
"And yet I," feels like an epic monologue is about to start, like it could go for hours.
"so I leave my loneliness in porcelain jars/ on their windowsills/ to thank them/ for making me whole/ as I walk."
Phenomenal, fantastic.
It feels like a lesson has been learned and there is a will to pass on this knowledge, but not forcefully.
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