Ph'tang Yang Olé Biscuit Barrel

[cookala]

heya!
Accented - lovely bits in this, esp "and in the salt eye of the moon/ dissolved into a hammer, beat an anvil/ from green shoots - a mortal may pour/ moonlight through a god." love that bit
The Tide - for a small poem it says so much. awesome closing in the last 2 lines

[UnkleBob]

Of all the words my parents never let me say, Cunt is my favorite and seems a great name for a dog. I really like that poem a lot.

Bob

[5th column]

Many thanks to Mike, Krystalynn, Angela, Dani B Janet, Cookie and Uncle Bob. Fluff is the oxygen of NaPo. Haiku are so much harder than they look but each year I embarrass myself by having a go. Why break the habit now....




by the water wheel
a fern unfurls
spring

[prokopton]

you had me at:
"..whisper
over shingle"

I was right there, on the shore, staring at the water..

nice work.

G.

[Donner]

Hi, Neil,

Very good start with "Accented". N drew me in and kept me. What I liked was how you started with "another life" and ended with "from this life," showing a change. Whether it was from regret, you leave that open, a good choice. Very musical all the way through.

Nothing quite as soft as the new growth of a fern. Good equate for spring. Not *technically* haiku, but no matter. It's a good word picture.

Donner

[anenome]

Tide is a lovely little poem, delicate but enabling the reader to connect. The haiku refers to circles, seasons, a wheel and the shape of unfurling, I'm no expert but enjoyed the thought it provoked!

[Emilio]

5th, The Tide stood out to me, for it's simplicity, it's beauty. The first lines are captivating,

A whisper
over shingle, the leaf’s
grasp on September,

Nicely composed, this beautiful poem!

Best,

[5th column]

Many, many thanks to Gffoe (I love the moments when a poem transports you), Donner (Absolutely right *technically* nowhere near 5/7/5 and some of the other rules and regs), Anenome (enjoying any aspect of a poem I wrote is a compliment, many thanks), and Emilio (beautiful - many, many thanks indeed).


Submitted

[JFN]

Neil, the salt eye of the moon is truly lovely. I like the narrative here, even though there are parts I don't fully understand yet. Will definitely be reading this one a few more times.

The opening of The Tide is equally excellent, A whisper / over shingle. The ending is also nicely done. Basically, it's all good.

The Haiku (attempted) has an interesting spiralling of imagery on it, which works for me. Not a strict anglecised haiku but I've come to understand from this link by HowardM2 that the 5/7/5 is not so important as other factors. Anyway, I think you did well here to layer the imagery in so short a poem. A curled fern echoes the shape of the wheel, unfurling echoes the movent of the wheel, and spring, with its duplicitousness, gives both the season and the motion of the unfurling. I actually think this is quite smart. Perhaps a little tweaking but something to work on.

The Safe has a wonderful nostalgia about it. You've done what poets do for me here, and made me experience those experiences, even ones I wouldn't normally recollect like the smell of fog. I particularly like the stutter step too.

Really good stuff so far. Keep them coming.

John

[Emily Bronte]

Neil,

You always take such unadulterated pleasure in playing during napo and come up with wonderful results. Very pleased you are here, and very much looking forward to the rest.

[Acolyte]

"The Tide" snagged me and took me away to many good places, thanks. Excellent segue from the concrete to the abstract for the final two lines.

"The Safe" too is a well-crafted memory net. Great metaphor work for where we put things, how, and when.

[5th column]

Many thanks to John (especially for the detailed fluff), Emily (play is what's often missing), and Acolyte (glad it took you somewhere).

Today's came from thinking I recognised someone in the jeweller at the airport earlier this evening.



Tiffany


I recognised you through the picture window.
Not from the green eyes or the curls, not the lips,
the hands or voice, the LV bag (although I saw
you still wore leopard print), not the kitten heels
or ripped jeans, the lashes, long and effortlessly
spooned, the calves, so slim, I never understood
how they support a body, or the nails, that shade
you love, it wasn’t the breasts or the way jeans
rest on your hip, the way you hinge just there,
I recognised the way you climbed inside him
worked the machine.

[Featherless Biped]

Oh, I love the sensory details in the story about Ayun, and I love the dog named "Cunt". (My nice old neighbors in Australia had a little chihuahua named "Jizzy"--same sort of loss in translation, I suppose.)

"The Tide" is nicely simple and atmospheric--feels like sitting in a small warm room surrounded by deepening cold on all sides. "cedar" and "smoke" and "tin mug" all have lovely smell images.

I too like the spinning motions in the haiku--furn, water wheel, abstract spring unfurling.

So many lovely things in that safe. (Please give me the combination? Please please?) I thought the items on your list were all very sparkly, but I particularly enjoyed your way of phrasing the cinnamon and coffee smells, and those resurrected matches at the end. (Somehow, the little homey images always hit hardest. Homely for you Brits, but that word means ugly in the US.)

"Tiffany" is a striking portrait (mostly, interestingly enough, by clothing--things that can be applied to or removed from the body at will). She sounds like bad news. Lucky me, she wouldn't give me a second look.

[5th column]

Day six and already struggling.....Thanks to Rachel for popping in.


Lost Focus


Some bodies
can’t be
seen by line
of sight
but we infer
their presence
by the sway
of light, it
gravitates. She is
become the sum
of poses, more
than voice.
Can you see
the sunlight
dapple on the picture
of her gown, the shadow
on the rose;
just pixels. Look
here, you’ll find her
somewhere
in the bokehs.

[Bench]

There's so much to like in all of these, I love the Turkish lady, and I'm getting that N got further than the bus driver, from 'hammer beat an anvil from green shoots'; which sounds like a session to aspire to. In tide I can hear the sea's rattle and smell the wood smoke, helping this resonate with deeper meaning. I love 'a fern unfurls' like a single line fractal. The safe is an intriguing dig down the back of the sofa- this has more nuggets than most, and I think I might fancy Tiffany a bit, but wouldn't introduce her to my mum. I may be way off, because it's not overtly sentimental, but Lost Focus reminds me of the way people become miserable when they cannot visualise perfectly the face of a lost loved-one. Lovely sonics and soft-focus imagery. Looking forward to reading more.