I, too, Turn and Twist (IFT)

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

That's a fun take on Stonehenge, Brian. Now, stop watching Ancient Aliens or get in the basement beside my husband.

~s

Thanks, Shaula. The idea developed as well as I could have hoped. Now, where is my tin-foil hat?

Hello BrianIsSmiling,

I like how the picture makes the poem and the act of taking the picture is also explored in the poem.

I also LOVE the word 'gerrymandering' which I'd not ever come across. And your use of it as a way to explore boundary-blurring - and cuisine as a metaphor for what might be called cultural appropriation, or might be called enjoyment of different foods, depending on perspective - and with all the accompanying ambiguities.

Bits I enjoyed the most - the passage of time, which in my reading is explored joyfully rather than nostalgically (also the side-details like the breaking with Tom in Chinatown but keeping the name, and Tom's restaurant retaliation). The fact that this is a highly contemporary poem - rooted in the now, but showing all those threads that made 'now' - blurring past and present in stories. And the details - the words exactly portrayed on the daughter's T-shirt (which we also have in the picture). And the lyricism, 'the music crowd was heavy, and the wait was long'. Lovely. Sunshine just breaking through clouds here after a very stormy two days, and your poem was the perfect accompanying read.

Sarah

Thanks, Sarah. Gerrymandering has been a huge political issue in America lately. The state in which I live just had to redraw the electoral districts for that very reason. The district where I live was particularly bad in that respect.

You mention the fact that the poem is very contemporary. I had had the idea of the title some time ago (as I noted in my post above), but the time did not feel ready. The recent events seemed to bring it back to mind, and I felt it was finally time to tackle the idea, not just as a story, but within a larger context. I did something in a similar style (even longer) just before seven-seven started, also telling a story (an incident from the life of civil rights activist and preacher Howard Thurman) where I wanted to put something into a larger context (in that case, the American Civil Rights movement). I think that that earlier poem's style and approach informed my effort here.

I am glad that you enjoyed it.

Brian

I ─ That's a nicely perceptive opening, a well-arranged background.

II ─ The people, the purpose, the places, and when they get to Media, that trolley which I remember, not without pleasure, from your NaPo poems, And the place where one 'blends' best is always an acute question ... Nicely gentle irony with the T-shirt too.

III ─ And now, somewhat to my surprise, years have passed, altering my perspective on the whole poem. A gracefully told recollection of a forward lady, a quiet daughter and a time in your life.

IV ─ I think this is its own poem. As a fourth part to the first three, it seems insufficiently related, a diluting effect, whereas on its own it's got movement and colour and its own life.

Ah, that trolley!

Regards / Dunc

Thanks, Dunc. This was a poem that outgrew what I thought it would be, with current events and political themes hiding in the background of a simple story.

I was of two minds about having part IV as part of this poem. For sevens, I thought that there was no harm to include it, but you are correct that it (and the larger poem) might stand better on their own.

When I constructed the poem, I thought of that part as similar in function to "The Scouring of the Shire" chapter near the end of "The Lord of the Rings"--an echo of the larger tale (though not so epic as LOTR), with the protagonist somewhat changed, the events of the larger tale in the background.

The beautiful thing about Sevens or NaPo is that you can take such a risk with little to lose.

BrianIs AtYou

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

Like the previous poem, the title here is one that I had mentioned to Billdozer as a possible candidate in NaPo 2019. I never got to it then, so I am returning to that list.

Playground in Winter (haiku)



Snow highlights and hides
the swings and slides—fairyland
playground in Winter.



----

BrianIs AtYou

[Scrow]

Hi BrianIsSmiling,

The pictures here are lovely, and I love how they work with the verse - the first showing 'swings and slides' and the second, seen through the same 'lens' of net, showing a less cohesive image, that could indeed be a kind of weird fairyland playground. The photographers viewpoint is also really interesting, as they seem lower than the playground, half buried in snow. The sonics - alliteration/assonance (but mainly the alliteration) here is lovely, in my reading and also works really well with the snow in a way I can't explain.

Sarah

[Dunc]

Brian

Great pics, as usual, and great subject. Haiku fits in nicely.

Regards / Dunc

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

Hi BrianIsSmiling,

The pictures here are lovely, and I love how they work with the verse - the first showing 'swings and slides' and the second, seen through the same 'lens' of net, showing a less cohesive image, that could indeed be a kind of weird fairyland playground. The photographers viewpoint is also really interesting, as they seem lower than the playground, half buried in snow. The sonics - alliteration/assonance (but mainly the alliteration) here is lovely, in my reading and also works really well with the snow in a way I can't explain.

Sarah

Thanks, for the kind words. The photographer (me) was indeed lower than the playground for these couple of pictures. I walked around into the grounds, and stood there, indeed "half-buried in snow". We'd had close to 50 inches in 3 days. This was ten years ago this past week that I took the pictures. This year we've barely had flurries.

Brian

Great pics, as usual, and great subject. Haiku fits in nicely.

Regards / Dunc

Thanks, Dunc. My brain started fighting me on whether the haiku was enough. One of us won.

BrianIs AtYou

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

Daring



I spend the night reading,
and writing commentary on poetry,
and listening
to Chopin's Mazurkas (complete).

My thighs still feel the burn
from a hilly afternoon run
in the winter rain,
followed by pasta primavera

and kielbasa—
mixing my cuisines—
a venal sin, perhaps,
but delicious—

and I tell myself
that I can do it,
without daring to define
whatever "it" might be.

----

BrianIs AtYou

[Sorella]

Sorry to be late commenting, blame work! I have read you and enjoyed, though.
The Chinese: rich and wise poem!
The haiku lovely, the photography is art.
Daring -- made my morning in the booth -- so hopeful!
Keep going, you can do anything, clearly.

[Scrow]

Hi BrianIsSmiling,

Another intriguing photograph, part of a poem which, in my reading, is a narrative of embodied experience with reflection and, in the end, a potential breaking of the boundaries (the liminal space between the tree's reflection and the bridge?) of both.

This is a great Seven's for reading. Thank-you.

Sarah

[Dunc]

Brian

Your photo reminds me of Escher's Three Worlds ─ more great pics from your stable.

And your reflection is clear, with suitably intriguing details, and a perfect conclusion, maybe the best short poem of yours I can recall.

Regards / Dunc

[Donner]

Hi, Brian,

"Playground in Winter" - I've always thought haiku is as "visual" as it is literary, so here the form is enhanced by the photos. (You're as keen a photographer as you are a writer.)

"Daring" - "It", whatever "it" is, works here. I like this "snapshot" of N's day from his run in the rain to his culinary heresy.

Donna

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

Sorry to be late commenting, blame work! I have read you and enjoyed, though.
The Chinese: rich and wise poem!
The haiku lovely, the photography is art.
Daring -- made my morning in the booth -- so hopeful!
Keep going, you can do anything, clearly.

Thanks, Sorella. This has been a productive Sevens so far. I think I was helped by the fact that I was already doing a fair amount of writing before Sevens.

Hi BrianIsSmiling,

Another intriguing photograph, part of a poem which, in my reading, is a narrative of embodied experience with reflection and, in the end, a potential breaking of the boundaries (the liminal space between the tree's reflection and the bridge?) of both.

This is a great Seven's for reading. Thank-you.

Sarah

Thanks, Sarah. I've been doing a lot of photography--and lately also sketching--I was tempted to do a sketch of the scene as well here, but had no time.

I think that close to 15 years of doing NaPo and occasional Sevens has made it easier to translate things into poetic form, even simple experiences like the ones in Daring.

Brian

Your photo reminds me of Escher's Three Worlds ─ more great pics from your stable.

And your reflection is clear, with suitably intriguing details, and a perfect conclusion, maybe the best short poem of yours I can recall.

Regards / Dunc

I am quite fond of Escher. I went around town some months back after a storm, and tried to get a whole set of such pictures, with the world reflected in the water below. This was a more recent attempt, and the wet wooden boards of the footbridge made for an interesting reflective surface.

Naming this possibly "the best short poem" of mine that you can recall is welcome praise.

Hi, Brian,

"Playground in Winter" - I've always thought haiku is as "visual" as it is literary, so here the form is enhanced by the photos. (You're as keen a photographer as you are a writer.)

"Daring" - "It", whatever "it" is, works here. I like this "snapshot" of N's day from his run in the rain to his culinary heresy.

Donna

Thanks, Donna. I've been trying to mix photography, sketches, etc., and poetry. I recently did a reading at an Art Opening where I was invited to read poems that I had written spontaneously for a set of six sculptures that I had photographed along with the artists. It was loads of fun and went over very well.

I am still trying to figure out what "it" is. Maybe it is better not to know and just to try my best at whatever I need to do.

BrianIs AtYouo

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

Litany




I.

The meddlesome fence was never far
from the cliff's edge.

The woman taking a selfie
was even closer, until she wasn’t.


 
II.

The dog in the car bites
at its rescuer, who relents—

the bridge on the Tacoma Narrows
twists and falls, muffling its cries.



III.

Cairo tries to swallow the desert
with tenements and smog,

while Ancient Giza smugly attends
to its age-old pyramids.



IV.

The partygoers laugh it up, unaware,
at the Kansas City Hyatt.

Hundreds die in the collapse
of the walkway, champagne in hand.


 
V.

Fela Kuti sings Zombie in Nigeria.
The government strikes back, killing his mother—

thrown from a window—burning his home,
his studio, his instruments—but not his voice.


 
VI.

Brutus could have chosen
to withhold the knife, alone amidst the crowd,

then Caesar need never have uttered
those final, accusatory words.



VII.

The last of Kenya’s Tuskers are dying off.
Tim, age 50—famed for his tusks’ magnificence—passed last week.

Poachers take prizes, and nature responds
with newborn calves, tuskless and timid—or stunted, at best.


 
VIII.

Grant Wood’s “American Gothic”—
his sister, unhappy to be modeling the spinster,

asks him to disguise her. He narrows
her face to match the stern father, his dentist.



IX.

The votes were along party lines,
followed by a purge.

Stalin was not to be questioned—
Nikolai Yezhov was never in the photo.

 
X.

Of what else should I speak?

----

BrianIs AtYou

[Donner]

Hi, Brian,

Nice collection. "I" is almost shocking, even through we now read all the time about people falling to their death because they had to get that selfie. I liked how "V" and "IX" both speak to suppression, but how the voice of truth triumphs in the former and can't be erased; evil will out. "II", though, is my favorite because I grew up near Tacoma where the Narrows Bridge (now two bridges) is located and am very familiar with "Galloping Gertie" -



Talk about a twist and turn. It's always fun to read a poem about an event or place that been a part of your life. What I also liked was how you focused on a small detail, the dog refusing help, which makes the collapse even more horrific.

Keep speaking, whatever you do.

Donna

[Scrow]

Hi, BrianIsSmiling,

I read this earlier today, in the middle of a busy day. I'm still a bit stuck because I think this needs more time to 'sit' with me before I say anything remotely useful. I read the bridge out of context until I saw Donna's reply. From a personal perspective I appreciate the politicisation of this, the meaning I'm reading of your words as a comment about the ability of photographs and images - and representations of all sorts - to warp/change/erase - lives. And whole species.

From a different, more personal perspective, there were bits in this I recognised and cheered - Fela Kuti one of them (although I didn't know that his mother was killed, I just know the music). I like (I need more time with this that sevens would allow)... the complexities of this, the layered meanings and what I'm reading as a strong critical voice in a world of increasing acceptance and homeogenities. They read like anchor points or moments which map out particular points when we/society have failed.

I'm not sure if it's because you've had a particularly great month, or just because I’m coming back to pffa after a long break - but for me your work has been extraordinary to read this month. Thank-you for the reading opportunity, the company, and the journey. Wow.

Sarah

[Dunc]

Brian

Litany I is the Escher effect all over again.

II is another fine photo ─ love the dudes high right.

III Extraordinary perspective and remarkable effect.

IV As chance would have it, I watched a TV program a couple of months ago about the engineering errors that led to the walkway's collapse ─ which, they said, put eight times more strain on the relevatn vertical supports and fixing plates than they were designed for.

V Wasn't aware of Mr Kuti ─ thanks for the introduction.

VI As I've always thought since I saw the b&w Brando and Mason movie at school, and as Emma Smith remarked in her recent and brilliant book of essays This is Shakespeare, they shoulda called it Brutus, since if it's anyone's tragedy, it's his ─ Big Julie's gone by the middle of Act III, f'goodness sake. (Brando, like Jason Robards and Keanu Reeves, ain't one of your natural speakers of iambic pentameter.)

VII Like a still from a Tarzan movie ─ 'splendid' comes to mind.

VIII Never seem that justaposition before. Mr Wood bears an uncanny resemblance to his dentist.

IX Yup, purged. Dear old Uncle Joe.

Very nice assembly!

Regards / Dunc