Bernie 真是我的知音呀! 不得不感慨!
星期一 六月 01, 2009 8:50 am
我很多诗别人读不懂的，他都能读懂，而且解读得很好。。。
可惜他的评论，很多我没有存下来。
比如近两天写的几首。 贴一首出来。。。 
We turn into them
We talk about hibernation,
talk about the possibility
of snow;
without warning, our words freeze.
The spring breezes ironically
brush our faces,
yours, hidden in shadows,
mine, peach blossom,
now all in the ashy white.
On Time Square, two statues stand.
We haven’t figured out if their positions
suggest whether they are meeting or departing.
But the puzzle becomes less important -
A---
remarkably subtle love poem.
manic grammar and images.
We talk about hibernation,
talk about the possibility
of snow,
Without warning, our words freeze.
i like that...."...without warning, our words freeze..."
here is a line from the most popular poem in england---the UK Guardian says---
Quote:
Prayer
"...hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train..."
Carol Ann Duffy
1. words freeze.
2. a latin chanting train.
two wonderful things to do with language.
now she gives us Latin at the end of the poem---not actual latin words---she gives us four physical locations---four sites the English weather service uses in the daily report of sea conditions---the words are intended to be like latin---(so says bernie...LOL)
Quote:
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child's name as though they named their loss.
Darkness outside. Inside, the radio's prayer -
Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre.
i tell you this little story only to call attention to highly creative, almost whimsical associations of images and words within a poem.
you did it, so did Carol Ann Duffy.
some more carol ann duffy --- won't bore you trying to explain why the spirit of this poem is a parallel to your poem --- that's really good.
Quote:
We swarm, tucked under the roof, compelled
by the tinsheet-flashlight dramatics of a storm
at three a.m. I am furious with joy
at catching you, for the first time, in momentary sleep.
The mosquito bites strung out along my right side
from thigh to ankle will erupt and itch.
that "furious with joy" so like your The spring breezes ironically
brush our faces,
i mean, the use of an odd modifier---that works.
here, it's the "ashy white" that saves makes this special for me.
The spring breezes ironically
brush our faces,
yours, hidden in shadows,
mine, peach blossom,
now all in the ashy white.
and here, how unique---how subtle---a coupe wandering manhattan in winter---noticing a statue--- making this comment:
On Time Square, two statues stand.
We haven’t figured out if their positions
suggest whether they are meeting or departing.
But the puzzle becomes less important -
i think you both turn into the statues, just meeting.
and you think this man don't love you plenty---listen, it don't get much more intimate than that---at least during the day....
i enjoyed the creative watermark of this poem. elbows its way into the bar, orders scotch, on the rocks---a double.
bernie