Friday, August 8, 2008

Blind Review Friday

for another edition of Blind Review Friday.

The author shall remain anonymous (unless they chose to divulge themselves in the comments.)

Those commenting are also welcome to remain anonymous if they wish.

Incendiary comments will be removed

If you would like your piece thrown to the wolves send it to with "Workshop the hell out of this poem" as the subject line.


Mufflers Crickets Birds
Call From Thickets

:brick lined
wide ruled
leger for pedestrial

banking on words
language mattering
less than surge:

Mufflers Crickets Birds
Call From Thickets

:or serged like sewn in
to maybe widely matter

by brick

Mufflers Crickets Birds
Call From Thickets

(note - some of the word spacing on lines could not be translated into this post due to constraints of the blogger template, line breaks have been preserved - mgs)


Anonymous said...

I'm afraid that without seeing the poet's original spacing I might misinterpret this piece - so I'm reluctant to comment.

Some of my older pieces have an intricate spacing on the page, which give the poems added layers of meaning. I wish I could see the real spacing here, to see howw it complements or detracts from this offering."

That said, since I've gotten involved in live readings this year, I've become a bit more focused on what works best aloud, over what works best on a printed page. If you can make both work well... you're worthy of worship. ;)

I kinda wanna like this piece... but I feel I need to meditate on it a bit more before I can give meaningful feedback.

Anonymous said...

I got a notion as to who wrote this here poem. ;)

love this - the play with language & object & meaning & conveyance - bricks lining paper, animal & machine calls like intuitive crashings, craziness - the buzzy lush feeling of sound from thickets vibrating between brick facades - the allusions to rationales for standards & lack of

had to look up serge in wikipedia: "A type of twill fabric that has diagonal lines or ridges on both sides, made with a two-up, two-down weave. The worsted variety is used in making military uniforms, suits, great and trench coats. Its counterpart, silk serge, is used for linings. French serge is a softer, finer variety. The word is also used for a high quality woolen woven."


J.E. Stanley said...

I have to agree with Kathy. This is awesome. Each time I read it, I seem to paste an additional layer of meaning onto it. I also have a notion of who wrote this. And, if that notion is correct, these layers of meaning, often embedded in poems that might on a casual first reading seem abstract, are very common and deliberate in this poet's work (as is the spacing, which is unfortunately lost here as it would be in almost all internet publications).

I like the simultaneous contrast/similarity of "Mufflers Crickets Birds" since they are actually sounds that one hears at the same time, but which are not normally associated with each other. I love the way the piece deals with and reconciles the issues of restriction ("ruled / by brick / languages") and freedom ("wide ruled / leger for pedestrial"). In the same way, it seems to deal with the immediate emotional impact of speech ("language mattering / less than surge") vs. the meaning carried on the printed page ("sewn in / to maybe widely matter").

Another definition (although, again, it's possible that the poet means something more here): "leger" is listed as a "variant of ledger" as in "ledger lines," the short lines written above or below a musical staff, for notes that fall beyond the range of the that staff, which, to me, implies "coloring outside the lines" (i.e. letting language break through the brick barrier(s) when necessary).

And, an unrelated side note, ledger lines are nearly ubiquitous in guitar sheet music since the guitar just can't stay within the boundaries of the treble clef in which is usually written.

Again, excellent poem!

Rock & roll & write on,


Anonymous said...

I like the refrain but stretch for clarity in one spot. Love the sound, flow, oddity but "serged like sewn in to maybe widely matter" is just baffling/clunky/awkward/stumbling.


The poet doesn't invent. He listens. ~Jean Cocteau