the dwell ward: hast less
the dribbling lords and house guests,
the rented concubines
the distressed list,
visions of long lines of the dispossessed
on European roads, napoleon of thunders.
You! mumbling, threatening love
feeble with tired fingers trembling
on the teething of the modern world
that Coleridge stole so long ago
when the dust rose behind LiPo’s
shining horse as he flew from the approaching hordes,
shattering the golden dome,
I saw you on 8th street in your short dress,
your ankle chain crested by a tiny cross,
the boy you loved was stoned,
but you wanted his sweet caress,
these things you did not know,
the dandelion wine,
the movements of the crowd’s cowardice,
the moments when he moved like a cat
and struck you with his claws,--
the cruel blue of your bodice undone,
the way he smiled when he saw you.
then suddenly
it was yesterday
and you slept on your arm by the window
while it rained,
hast less, as all departed
and the dome came tumbling down.
In a list
A contest entry
- 'Beast, Book, Body' - Another Poem by Erica Jong by truembrace.
300 points, ended April 17, 2007, 2 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Silver To Gold- For Trophys That Shine Members Only by Mercury Rising.
600 points, ended July 24, 2007, 15 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 21 of 21
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Just a wonderful poem replete with arresting and original imagery, unique vocabulary and phrasing. Best of luck in the contest with this marvelous piece.
David
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OOPS!
Forgot to give this an applause!
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Your choice of language is stunning, as well as the imagery. I could vividly see the third set of lines. This poem reminds me of a poem I recently read at OP called; "La Belle Dame Sans Merci". It paints a specific portrait of a woman who bemused by the "boy who was stoned". I am in awe at the last line. If I were a visual artist I would paint this woman in your last line. Exquisite work my friend. Congratulations on winning the Silver!
Much Love ♥
Renee
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I rather liked this poem a lot. It had a unique quality with giving us a glimpse of past, then bringing us to 8th street - and to the scene by the window (her asleep on her arm).
I think the "hast less" was true to the voice you were shooting for in this poem, but I did find it a bit distracting for some reason. I think, like Zara had noted, that the poem begins a bit later for me as well - only perhaps with Stanza 2. I like many of the attributes of the first stanza but found some of the images "the distressed list" and "long lines of the dispossessed" threw me off a bit. I guess I wasn't exactly clear as to the image I should come up with from those verses and that was also a bit distracting.
Overall, I thought this was a tremendous entry into the contest and really enjoyed the image shifting with the 8th street ankle bringing us to a modern day vibe.
Thanks so much for the entry to this contest.
Kim
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Not quite sure how I feel about this, confused with the first couple of stanza's although I understand it relates to times in the past and then to move into the future. I didn't not like it and there are parts that did intrigue me. Some great phrasing and use of vocab.
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I found this very interesting, a seeming shift from archaic language to urban, it's quite nice
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HYPMOTIZINGLY HISTORICAL
DANDELION WINE!!!!!!!! LO-AMO!!!!! SALUTE!!!!!CHENTE-Anni!!!!!
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I like the ending..the last two verses...I could imagine your words as I read...different, and nicely said...a longing for love...love from someone that loves someone else...lovely, thanks for sharing
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This is one of those poems that just screams at you when you read it. Which really holds the readers intreste from word one to the very last word. The imagery is simply excellent and really shapes it's self in the minds eye.
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The words all ring well when read outloud. This is a good effect since much of the terminology needs a bit of research if the reader is not familiar with the references. When the words make music without the benefit of their meaning, it prompts a reader to look deeper into what he is reading about and draw some conclusions.
Definately a poem to be studied rather than just read through.
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Very nice work, I like the opening two stanzas, how they set up the rest of the write, they are definitive for me..."you slept on your arm by the window while it rained" that line really struck me as the epitome of the write, the whole sense of withdrawal is what struck me in this write more than anything...the over riding sense of having emotionally departed from something. I love your attention to the small imageries, the small cross and ankle chain among others...I must admit the first stanza was a difficult one upon first reading the poem, however, it is an ingenious little set up youve got going here, upon re-reading the poem the reader gets a totally different feel from the work, (that is after recognizing the poetic significance, and enthralling implications of the first stanza) nice work!
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Very nice. Great imagery. Loved the abstract words.
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"You! mumbling, threatening love
feeble with tired fingers trembling
on the teething of the modern world
that Coleridge stole so long ago..."
I love how you depicted today's world verses the old English world. Love and war have not changed...still the same old...same old... Wow! I loved this poem.
BHolzner
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I loved the era you depicted in the poem. You truly had an eye to its historical detail, your archaic tone astounding. But the detail to the woman of that era was even more astounding. I liked the fabulous turn in the last couplet ('tis nice when poems do this, particularly a poem of this caliber). The imagery was not just the cake--but the icing on the cake, too! This piece is truly remarkable in every sense of the word. Your talent shines through, fine poet.
Belle
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How refreshing: work that I can't be glib about. Something I can read without feeling like I'm going through someone's trash.
I shouldn't even be commenting. I really have nothing to say--I don't claim to understand it, I have no clear picture in my head, only impressions of something I think I almost knew, once upon a time...and was brainwashed to disbelieve.
Maybe just: Thanks for bringing me back to my senses, at least momentarily.
Oh, and you're brilliant, though you obviously hear that all the time.
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Well it comes in hissing like a snake, doesn't it? Eve listens.
Actually, I think this poem begins at stanza 3. Stanza 1 and 2 another poem, or even just the springboard for this one. The change in diction, tone, time, the change from the impersonal to the personal. Ya know?
I might like it to end without the last stanza too.
All the bits between are delicious.
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I've read that first stanza outloud about a dozen times, it is delicious.
When I first started reading you a million years ago, I remember thinking how incredibly sexy it was that you somehow "knew" women, the women you write. Though you haven't visited that side of your poemworld too much recently, you have not lost the touch.
The little details in this poem are amazing. That bit about the ankle bracelet - the cross cresting her ankle, and her sleeping on her arm in the window, it is those types of observations that set your work apart from the masses. And your ability to put them down without ever overdoing the scene, crystal clear yet somehow at the same time incredibly impressionistic. You got a style all your own you do.
My guess is the first stanza will throw some people off, this can't be helped, I'm sure. To anyone with difficulty, I suggest to them, just read it outloud a few times. Enjoy the sounds the meaning might come later -- as in hours, days, years..
This one moves me. I was that girl, I have a daughter, it is always the same.
Good luck to you in the contest. Lisa
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Your hold over the English language is truly masterful. This is truly a sweeping piece- each image accentuated by the sometimes bitter, and sometimes sweet frankness in which it is wrought forth. The 'teething of the modern world' is for me, a real focal point of the piece- I interpreted it as a many-faced description of the remnants and wrecks of the society in which the narrator lives. The images of what she is naive of- the wine, the crowds cowardice, the strike- are another visually evocative moment.
I'm truly very moved by this piece- it's attractive, it's evocative, it's artistic, and its strange blend of archaicisms and modern flourishes in the structure and language resonate with me.
The only throw for me is the very first line "the dwell ward" the definitions of those words in my brain don't seem to mesh into an image- dwell, meaning to live and ward meaning protector or an object of protection. If you could please explain it to me, I'm sure it's simply my ignorance that is preventing the particular line from coming to light. -
you used a lot of big words which added to your piece
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I don't know really what to say...
although Li Po's chinese verse say it much better than me....
SHE SPINS SILK
Far up river in Szechuan,
waters rise as spring winds roar.
How can I dare to meet her now,
to brave the dangerous gorge?
The grass grows green in the valley below
where silk worms silently spin.
Her hands work threads that never end,
dawn to dusk when the cuckoo sings.
Li T'ai-po
tr. Hamill
it's all very quiet and intense too... the sheen of skin under her bodice... the hints of undone and becoming...
and then sleep... to dream ..... to dream
I dream alot... day and night
sometimes it's very silly .... sometimes not
tis grand .... La Belle Epoque
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