Monday, January 27, 2014

A first try and a try again

And now for something completely different.

Pale Poem, Restless Rider

Pale poem, restless rider
turn track and head home:
This is not a journey
to be undertaken tonight --
the trace is drifted and
the fenceline obscured, and
the cold has left
a faceless ache where
words should be.

Once again a phrase kicked this one off, and oddly that phrase never made it into this poem. Sorry first phrase! Maybe next time. And I wish there was a word 'undertook.'

And now for something a little bit different.

In Today's Forecast (second draft)

He made coffee 
she got dressed 
morning was 
still night. 
He looked out 
the window. She watched 
the news. He said 
I’m leaving. She 
said fine. The 
day turned gray
and was shitty 
before it started. She 
didn’t cry. He 
into the 
hundred percent 
chance of a 
thin mean snow.

This one has been really fun to work on. There were things I liked and things I didn't about the ending. The way it is here is closer to where I want it to go. I keep playing with the 100% thing -- I want that to stay because it ties to the TV-watching at the beginning of the poem. And I want to keep the 'thin mean snow' -- I can see that snow in my head, and that description fits -- it's not what would be forecast, I don't think I've ever heard Jim Cantore say that phrase -- but it's just what this guy needs to walk into. And he's left in several ways in different drafts -- walked out the door, turned, picked up the suitcase -- but I think disappeared might be the best way to get rid of him. haha. 
What I need to watch out for is repeating words -- I used 'left' and 'leaving' a couple times in different drafts and the second use is so weak.
And I love getting rid of conjunctions and various articles. 

[Well, I need to watch out for a lot of stuff, suckiness probably the main thing, but you knew that.]

Most of these Bon Iver tunes make no sense but are so moody and that's why I love them so much. 
And at once I knew I was not magnificent
Strayed above the highway aisle
(Jagged vacance, thick with ice)
I could see for miles, miles, miles

(Read more: Bon Iver - Holocene Lyrics | MetroLyrics)

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