Academia (working title, subject to change).

[DanaC]

Ok. I don't know why, but reading poetry always makes me want to write it. Something about the rhythm of another writer sets me off with rhythms of my own.

This is very much a first draft. It really isnt what i'm supposed to be doing...as indeed the subject of the poem suggests...but it's been floating round my head all morning. so here we go. I don't like the title, I'll be changing that. But I had Henry's questions rumbling about in my mind as well. Made me think about hwat it is I was looking for when I went to uni. And the fact that I am nearing the end of that stage.

Anyway: here 'tis. Possibly more of a prose poem than verse. Comments and suggestions as always welcome.


Academia

There’s a break in the clouds, and a stray shaft of sunlight is bouncing off railings and sweetening the pathways. And my feet find motion, without my attention, I’m drawn by momentum and visions of wisdom. This was the whole of it. This was the way of it. Nine year old eyes driven wild by the dream of it. All other pathways, all other journeys, merely apprenticeship; all roads the way to it.

A cloudless blue sky and my mind is all over, three years have passed swiftly and left me reflecting. The garden entices with rainbows of colour, that tap at my window and catch my attention. A radio throws out effusions of voices and swift passing feet on their Saturday wanderings, spark me a spark of envy and greed; I would stretch out my limbs and run into the street.

But this is just silliness, this is the worst of me. Journeys embarked on, deserve their completion; and I with my nine year old eyes looking on, revisit my dreams with one eye on the time, and with characteristically random delight, I retrieve what I lost and find all is in place. When the sky’s blue is stolen by rainclouds on missions, I’m lost in my journey and blind to the changes.

And all is now peaceful in my little corner; the laptop is humming with busy disorder. The weather is unknown, the sky is no colour, and I have a mission that holds me with wonder. Words on a page, building structures and vistas, of otherness so tantalisingly close to us; wickedly weaving the words of old soldiers, and outspoken wives with their cautious collusion.

This is the whole of it. This is the way of it. The dreams that have brought me have stayed in the play of it. Now comes the hard part; the steadfast, the handclasp, the grip on the edges of all that I’ve worked for. And somehow the weight of it, hasn’t collapsed on me, hasn’t outweighed me and plunged me to failure...if I can just keep holding on.

[Trilby]

Lush, darling, is the word that immediately comes to mind.

You are a gifted writer, dana and as a poem, this works. As prose...it does what my own prose does: become a bit self-indulgent (mine, actually, becomes VERY self-indulgent, so you are miles ahead of me with being just a "little bit") -

it conveys the mood, the surroundings, the feel...almost TOO acutely. I'd like to hear more of the journey and it's difficulties, it's branches.

Good piece of work, Dana. Must be a lovely day there! It's one here, too, which always, like rain, makes me want to writewritewrite about it!

[DanaC]

lol. Yes. As prose it's too constructed sounding I think. That's not how my straight prose reads, I have to say :P This started out as a stream of consciousness prose poem, then morphed halfway through into straight poetry. I liked the structure and rhythm that the initial prose gave it, so I tried to keep a prose flavour to it, albeit barely. I think it might be worth resetting it into a verse form. Visually I mean. I'll mull that over.


(oh and thanks and yes it is glorious here!)

[Trilby]

Nothing harsh, here, Dana. I always enjoy your stuff. I think you want to reach, though, and you've the guts to do it. It IS stream of consciousness and how stupid of me not to latch on to that right off.

Like I said, "Lush" - very nice. More the warning to myself.

[DanaC]

*smiles* I didn't take it as harsh. Rather it was helpful. There are a couple of places where it doesn't quite scan to me. Couldn't quite put my finger on why. Something a little forced, maybe. I think it might be because the balance between prose and poetry is a little off kilter. Rather than a melding of the two, it can't quite make its mind up.

I don't think I need to make massive changes to rebalance it. I'm going to mull it over a little. I may end up deciding to leave it as is. But it's always good to pull it apart a little and see if it can be improved. especially on a first draft

Glad you liked it though *smiles* I'm quietly pleased with it m'self

[DanaC]

I've decided this is one of those that works better read aloud. I've been reading it out, playing with inflection and intonation. I am inclined to leave it broadly as is. I think I need to play with the punctuation a little though. There are a couple of pauses in the rhythm that I'd like to remove and one or two I'd like to add.

[Pico and ME]

I am not well versed in poetry, so please pardon me right off, but I like how this poem started to have a more constructed feel toward the end as if to reinforce how your musings became more pointed about the matter and less a stream of consciousness.

[DanaC]

God, I wish I'd been as conscious about it as that :P

Apropos of nothing: my recent computer troubles reminded me that I lost my poetry file when my last comp died (a couple of years ago). So I thought it be a good idea to go through my old threads in creative expression and retrieve the poems I've put there over the years. I haven't kept any poems from before my Dwellar days...not many stories kept either (moved around a lot and lost the odd hard drive over the years), but that's ok, because I don't think I wrote decent poetry back then. Stories yes, but my poetry was awful. The Cellar's been great for that; I now have a place to post them, therefore a purpose in completing them.

Anyway, I was quite surprised to find there are 13 altogether. they span the entire time I've been here, starting with a prose poem in 2004 :P I've had a thoroughly lovely time revisitng my thoughts from those years. The stuff happening in my life and the state of mind I was in. Ahhh.....right....back to my dissertation ....why am I fannying about retrieving old poetry?