Sometimes (In the Unclair de Lune)
Sometimes (In the Unclair de Lune)
I would cut,
if I could, that thin
skin within my
eardrums that timpanies
your call; vibrates voice into
promise; gloms meaning,
or what I
would mean, onto your throat’s
notes; devoting my
all to the
carve; then, later, to the
stitching back as
your face grave,
but silently uncomprehending, as even
the moved-close moon
in an ellipsis
skewed my way, shines light
to sew by.
************************************
Still a bit under the weather here, but posting the above draft poem, a would-be Collom Lune, for Samuel Peralta’s prompt on dVerse Poets Pub’s Form For All. It’s a word count form developed by Jack Collom. (I call it a draft in part because I’ve been switching the last “shines” from “shone” and back again.) Check out Sam’s very interesting article, and if you have a moment in this new year, check out my books!
Poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, (by Karin Gustafson, illustrated by Diana Barco). 1 Mississippi -counting book for lovers of rivers, light and pachyderms, or Nose Dive. Nose Dive is available on Kindle for just 99 cents!
Tags: ear drum poem, elephant beneath greenish moon, irritable poem, Jack Collom Lune, Lune Poem, manicddaily, what we talk about when we don't listen poem
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ManicDDaily 
January 3, 2013 at 7:12 pm
your throat’s
notes; devoting …ha i like how that sounds on my ear so i think i will keep my ear drum…sheesh…slicing the inner ear gave me a dang shiver k…the elipsis of the moon…
January 3, 2013 at 7:13 pm
Yes! Ha. I’m not in the best mood! But laughing now. K.
January 3, 2013 at 7:24 pm
Oh my. I’m not sure I’m fit to reply. It’s just really good. You’re as impressive as always, especially your flow, line breaks, and sound throughout.
January 3, 2013 at 7:28 pm
Ha. Well, I don’t know about that. I thought it was very interesting to work with the line breaks here–as I didn’t want to just break things up to fit the form – that seemed kind of arbitrary. Thanks for commenting on that as I did spend some thought on trying to get the breaks to add something. And my meanings are usually so incredibly mundane I have to spend time on sound! If I could be profound in anyway at all, I might be able to stick with thought and language, but I really don’t have a very deep mind! k. (I’m not being modest here!) Thanks.
January 3, 2013 at 7:28 pm
How clever K ~ I like the way you cut the verses, and use of commas and semi-colons :
or what I
would mean, onto your throat’s
notes; devoting my
all to the
carve; then, later, to the
stitching back, as
Hope you feel better soon ~
January 3, 2013 at 7:38 pm
That first stanza made me shudder – and the mood didn’t lighten up much from there. Strong writing here k.
January 3, 2013 at 7:56 pm
I love the title on this one. Very evocative, and suits the poem down to the ground.The images really cut right through to the inner inner ear, as it were, and you hit on every note that too often makes the song into noise pollution. I’ll have to cast my eye over this form, it’s very musical, and full of a measuring out sort of quality. Very good writing, k–and aren’t you, as a sick person, supposed to stay away from drafts? This seems quite complete to me. ;_)
January 3, 2013 at 8:21 pm
Ha! I’m not sure, among many things, about the “shone.” Whether it shouldnt be “shines”? I think grammatically it should be shone, and you know me and grammar! Ha! (I care about it but don’t know the rules.) k.
January 3, 2013 at 7:58 pm
Ah, there is much below the surface of these words, I think. Really thought-provoking.
January 3, 2013 at 8:00 pm
This is a great piece, full of frustration and even resentment–powerful!
January 3, 2013 at 8:20 pm
Ha. Well, I’m not feeling so well right now. Thanks. k.
January 3, 2013 at 8:45 pm
Oh, yes, the tension…well, you could cut it with a knife. Excellent…but so sorry you are unwell. Hope you will feel better soon, Karin.
January 3, 2013 at 9:09 pm
I sense danger into an uncomprehending rescue, your line breaks make this really wild verse, the cutting, then, to the stitching back loved the ending:
“in an ellipsis
skewed my way, shone light
to sew by.”
January 3, 2013 at 9:25 pm
Thanks, Randy.
January 3, 2013 at 11:11 pm
This piece is filled with restlessnes – love your use of line breaks
January 3, 2013 at 11:24 pm
I have tinnitus, an inner-ear condition, so this evoked in me a very real physical reaction, a heightened fear. An ominous atmosphere, dark and relentless, with each lune heightening the tension.
January 3, 2013 at 11:28 pm
I have tinnitus too. This poem not about it but it’s a terrible pain at times. K.
January 3, 2013 at 11:33 pm
I’ve read so little of this form but it seems you have shaken it up and brought it to life. As told by the title! I love your line breaks and the rhythm you create, especially with the longer lines that seem well over 5 words but are not. You stretched and filled this form completely. Very much enjoyed.
January 3, 2013 at 11:34 pm
“shines light to sew by” magnificent ! What vision! Great poetry!
January 3, 2013 at 11:35 pm
I like “shines”–once skewed your way, light shines where needed.
This is such a drastic solution to hearing what we want to hear! But I am with your narrator all the way, wanting to cut out the part that drums my meaning into what I should be hearing. I love the violence here because it is true. But I love that the violence is exposed so that we can find another solution to our incurable romance besides amputation. It reminds me too much of ancient customs silencing female pleasure . . . too much of turning our anger inward to harm ourselves regardless of our implication in the deception.
January 4, 2013 at 7:05 am
Thanks, Susan. That’s a very interesting take. k.
January 4, 2013 at 2:29 am
painful images in this…and you seem to have taken the form, and made it your own with the smooth transitions from one to the next..
January 4, 2013 at 6:24 am
in an ellipsis
skewed my way, shines light
to sew by
thought you’d saved the best wine for the finish, but then I read it through again… how do you do it?
January 4, 2013 at 7:00 am
You are always so kind, Dave. Thanks. k.
January 4, 2013 at 6:54 am
even under duress we sometimes get inspiration that at first seems to be only a so so draft of a poem but it works 😉
January 4, 2013 at 12:09 pm
I had to read this three times simply to enjoy the intelligence and imagery. A real pleasure, and no small feat to convey the tale within chained form.
January 4, 2013 at 12:26 pm
Thanks for your kind words, Kim, and for taking the time to read. k.
January 4, 2013 at 5:22 pm
oh wow, Karin! I am totally in love with this piece… absolutely stunning work. so much between the lines, so intriguing. You totally nailed this prompt, I am captured.
January 4, 2013 at 5:26 pm
Thanks so much, Miriam. K.
January 4, 2013 at 6:06 pm
Whoa! That opening is harsh; at least you/she stitch(es) it back. The moon in an ellipsis…wonderful. so much here to think on. Thank you, and a very happy 2013 to you!
January 4, 2013 at 8:05 pm
….how fascinating it is to know you, despite not feeling well, can still write good, evenly structured lunes like these… really commendable… get well soon…smiles…
January 5, 2013 at 1:00 am
nicely done Karin, Very strong piece. Love that you seamlessly wove the many individual lunes together to form a collective whole. Great piece. Thanks
January 5, 2013 at 7:09 am
Thank you, Fred. k.
January 5, 2013 at 2:00 pm
You keep to the main reason for the form, which is to keep to simple sensory descriptions