Delph's back

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

I'm a big fan of Miner's Wide and Careering. Both show a great sense of narrative, and strong imagery to support them.

The next is a different kind of beast. Short lines. Immediacy. Reflecting, perhaps, the two-year-old's perspective.

BrianIs AtYou

PS

With regard to Miner's Wife, listen to this, a complementary perspective on a miner and his wife: Gene Clark - Give my love to Marie

[Angela]

Delph_Ambi,

Miner's wife really affected me. This lends a quiet sadness to the piece. I read it several times and liked it better and better each time. I was feeling sorry for both the miner and his wife. The last lines let me take a deep breath. Just a lovely ending.

Careening... gave me a similar feeling. I am beginning to see you have a way with telling stories of the heart. Stopping at the turnstile felt like pausing at a crossroads of sorts. Really nice touch with the Celandines. The last few lines were spot on. The title does its work, too.

Instant gratification I had to snort at the cluelessness of some men. Puddle King is used to great effect here!

The miner's wife is still with me. I hope you decide to run it through C&C. I would love to crit this one!

Angela~

[BruisedOrange]

Hello,
Wish I'd found your thread from the beginning. Miner's Wife is beautiful and sad. I felt a little like I had fallen off a ledge into the ordinary of married life, very good!
The toad in 'careening' is gruesome, and the stile is a wonderful turn. Also, 'slow growth of toenails'. Gratification: S4 and the close. Great, strong start!

Jen

[Julie]

Oh, the first two really strike me, with the second especially strong. The title made me snort.

[delph_ambi]

Thanks all for the great comments! Most encouraging.

[delph_ambi]

A Clerke in Holy Orders

He said he used to have a face
before scrofula, pox, erosion, sin
and extreme sexual congress, all in the name
of faith took their toll; now he wrote poems instead.

I stared at the black hole where one eye should be.
The other had slipped down his cheek. A fissure
led from his missing ear to the tiny slit of his mouth;
his skin fell away in black crusted flakes
and his scalp spat and bubbled like porridge.

He talked of cardinals, delicate points
of canon law, then later we sat down to break our fast,
ate eggs, he told of the time he had stuck his fist
up a chicken’s arse and pulled out a handful of entrails
instead of the promised ovum, he thought this was funny
and said I should write it down, then he stroked
my face and his fingers smelled of fish.

I said I fancied a walk, we left the room. Once outside
he said he knew a place with a marvellous view
of the massacre – he would take me to see it. He took
my hand and brushed it
against his groin and his sickly blood thumped and groaned
and pushed past obstructions until he exploded and died.

I left him there
on that hill, I left him there, I went away,
I left him there, he was dead.

[delph_ambi]

last word

quilted-coat woman
sees the beggar
sneers
and I want to kill her
but people dying is so sad

the beggar
is beautiful
he has a beard like Fidel’s
but the sneering woman!

her hair is permed away from her face
so that every scowl
is in full view

as if I don’t have enough to deal with today
what with trying to sort out last night’s row
when you walked out
desperate to stop me having the last word

never realising
my last word
would be love

[delph_ambi]

Haven't managed to index this one this morning as the site's running like a drain. Will try again later.

[Mimic_Octopus]

I love the control in your work. Especially in 'Careering Down The Hillside', which you'd expect to be anything but controlled. The back-footing pace works really well to show the disturbingly gentle way in which a person can fall apart.


My other favourite is 'A Clerke in Holy Orders'. The body horror and claustrophobia of the piece is really strong, and gives the effect of a close, cloistered setup. This may sound like a weird thing to compliment, but I also really love your use of commas in this poem. They give a fluid, shifting effect, which makes me think of someone struggling to recall or come to terms with something they have seen. Very cool.


Can't wait to read more.

[prooftheory]

The last couple of poems have taken a darker turn. I read these all together and so I took the speaker to be all the same person and I felt like we got some important history in "Clerke" and the violence to the reaction of the breakup in "Last Word" somehow seems more justified. There's a detachment in "people dying is so sad" that makes more sense in context, but it could also just be that the breakup is weighing so hard on the speaker. Good poems.

[Julie]

I confess, I kinda skimmed "Clerke." I am not a person blessed with a strong stomach. But it's definitely powerful. Um, the poem, not the stomach!

[Scrow]

Hello,

I do enjoy 'Careering', both for the sense of it, and the interesting images of the toad and the 'chemistry of dying'. 'Miners Wife' reminded me of D.H Lawrence novels, but nicely condensed - and the movement of imagery between the birds, the poems and the dirt. 'Instant gratification' was funny-sad (I like 'puddle king'), and 'Clerke' really interesting - reminded me of the rude doodles of monks in the margins of old manuscripts.

I've really enjoyed reading your thread - thank-you

Sarah

[vmh]

Hi Catherine: I love the strong contrasts at work in The Miner's Wife. In Careering, you really capture the effect one can have on another. Such strong images too.

I just love Instant Gratification. You so wisely show how boys can become men, and how girls become women. Raising children to be exactly who you raise them to be. Well done!

The brutality of A Clerke is so sharp. Taking a "date" to a massacre. And then N leaves him there. Both sides can play the game. So good.

permed away from her face
so that every scowl
is in full view

I've seen that person! What a great painted image! But that's no surprise coming from you!

You've really got a wonderfully complex dark thread going on, and I will be back. Thank you!

Vicky

[delph_ambi]

Thank you all for such fabulous comments!

[delph_ambi]

We’re In the Orchard

in love, when the old man says,
“The longer the tree has lived,
the sooner it’s going to die.”
We stare at each other, awkward,

Jonas says, ‘Don’t worry – Granddad’s
always full of such shit.’ He bites his lip,
and a robin starts singing,
looks down from an tree with Eve’s eyes
and we’re back in paradise, spring, tight buds,

I recognise the fruiting spurs;
the shape of the branches, straight
for leaves, stump-gnarled for blossom.
I reach up and touch, sap rising.

Granddad tugs on Jonas’ sleeve.
“She’ll do, get in quick” he says.
His breath is cider and throat rot, the sun
baking hot for April, the burr
of a bumble bee buzzing.