Eviscerate this poem, please

Cafe Society
1

I made the mistake of mentioning to a writer I admire that I write occasional poems, but virtually never share them. That of course led to a request, “I’d like to see them!”

Very reluctantly (because I have no training as a poet and am almost certainly penning cringe-worthy glurge), I agreed to share ONE poem. In exchange I’m getting commentary on other writing I am more confident about, so it’s worth it to me to embarrass myself. But being human, and a little sensitive about what I write, I’d rather minimize the embarrassment as much as I can.

I’m thinking of sharing the poem below, but it isn’t too late to either revise it or choose a different poem entirely. Inasmuch as I’d rather embarrass myself here than in real life, I welcome you to make suggestions for improvement (if it is salvageable) or ask, “Um, CairoCarol, I’ve rarely read a worse poem; is there any chance you’ve got a different one to share?”

(If you can’t tell, I am a big fan of the Billy Collins type of poetry.)

Boundaries

Over dinner we reveal:
In your right ear you are deaf;
While I don’t hear well from my left.

Afterward we pace the streets
Hands in pockets, hunched against
Imagined cold.

You pace my right, while I am sinistral to you.
(Our good ears travel side by side.)

Our deaf ears trace a boundary
Outside of which is all we’ve learned so far.

Inside, a small new nation.

2

Start out with this: I am far from an expert at critiquing poetry. So:

It’s a nice idea, I think some of the diction needs work. I don’t like “Outside of which” for example, it’s too many words. You could say

Our deaf ears trace a boundary
from all we’ve learned so far.

Or something. Actually, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say in these two lines, the first time I read it I thought it was “everything we haven’t learned so far” was outside the boundary. So much for my ability to read.

I think the word “sinistral” is jarring; everything else in the poem is in everyday language.

I think I would do something different with the second stanza, maybe because I don’t get the significance of “imagined cold.” Also was the use of the word “pace” twice intentional? I like it better in the third stanza than in the second.

In short, I think it’s worth salvaging but it does need some work.

3

Thank you! This is exactly the kind of input I need.

4

I disagree, though, the meter of that line is excellent with those extra words.

5

Can you remove the line (Our good ears travel side by side.), or would that upset the structure too much?

Think it’s better implied. I tend towards leaving stuff out, minimalism though - probably end up writing haikus if I ever wrote poetry.

6

Nice!

Sinestral could not be a more specific choice. Unfamiliar enough that I have to stop and process the layers involved. What can you say about what you are going for with it?

7

I like this a lot! I stopped at the word ‘sinistral’ and would probably change it. It is precise, but distracting. I also might fiddle with the ending a bit. Something like

Outside our quiet boundary
is all we’ve learned so far.
Inside, a small new nation.

YMMV, though CairoCarol. With no tweaking at all this is a very nice poem.

Ko,
Associate Poetry Editor for a very small jounal :slight_smile:

8

Thanks all - I’ve gotten rid of “sinistral.” The reason I used it was to imply a bit of unworthiness on my part (since left-handedness has been associated with badness through words like “sinister”), but quite obviously that was a failed attempt on my part! You are all right (so to speak), the word was disruptive and puzzling.

I also added a verb at the end because I think that makes the last line more consistent with the rest of the poem. Busy Scissors, in general I agree with your “less is more” approach but I’m afraid not to be explicit here, and also I’d have to either have one line hanging my itself or change the way I’ve arranged the “stanzas,” such as they are. (Does that word even apply to free verse like this? See, that’s the kind of thing I don’t know.)

koeeoaddi, I think your revision is a very nice improvement but I don’t feel right using such a big change that someone else wrote. I may play with the poem some more and see if I can achieve that effect on my own.

So, here’s the current version - I’m still going to play with it more, especially the last bit.

Boundaries

Over dinner we reveal:
In your right ear you are deaf;
While I don’t hear well from my left.

Afterward we pace the streets
Hands in pockets, hunched against
Imagined cold.

You pace my right, while I walk left of you.
(Our good ears travel side by side.)

Our deaf ears trace a boundary
Outside of which is all we’ve learned so far.

Inside, we form a small new nation.

9

Ouch! I just realized something - speaking of Billy Collins, I recently read a poem of his (in The Atlantic magazine, I think) that is conceptually similar to this one - if I recall it correctly (which I may not) it talks about two people sleeping in bed, backs to each other, facing outward to fight off the outside world and have their own intimate space inside. I swear I did not consciously realize that while I was writing, but it might have been too much of an influence.

I’ll have to see if I can find a copy of the Billy Collins poem and see if I feel like a plagiarist now. :frowning:

10

Over dinner we find:
In your right ear you are deaf;
I don’t hear well from my left.

Afterward we stroll the streets
Hands in pockets, hunched against
Imagined cold.

You pace my right, while I walk left of you.
(Our good ears side by side.)

Our deaf ears tracing a boundary
Outside of which is all we’ve learned so far.

Inside, a small new nation.
Takes out a few words for a minimalist feel and gets rid of pace redundancy.

11

I think “You pace my right, while left of you I walk” seems redundant. Not always a bad thing in poetry, but here it looks like a brush stroke laid over another.

12

Thank you so much for that effort, puddleglum; I will examine the differences between your version and mine to help me analyze what makes a poem more successful.

Having said that - please, no one else re-write the poem for me! It makes it too hard for me to make revisions and create something new that is still “my” poem. It’s better just to tell me what isn’t working, and why. For better or worse, all the actual writing has to come from me. (Worse being operative word, I’m sure.)

13

I tend to be fond of pleonasm myself, and often do it deliberately in my prose. Not that this is always a good thing. But it’s definitely part of my style.

.

14

I found the original perfectly nice and evocative. I’d prefer it to the sanitized “palatable to everyone”-version.

15

I don’t know shit about poetry in English, but I finally realized a while back that I like poetry that tells stories and dislike poetry that’s navelgazing. I like your little story, it’s very vivid.

16

Still thinking about this - latest version, with some annotations:

Boundaries

Over dinner we reveal: (1)
In your right ear you are deaf;
While I don’t hear well from my left.

Afterward we pace the streets
Hands in pockets, hunched against
Imagined cold. (2)

You’re on my right, I’m on your left (3)
(Our good ears travel side by side.) (4)

Our deaf ears trace a boundary (5)
Outside of which is all we’ve learned so far. (6)

Inside, we form a small new nation.(7)

(1) I like the word “reveal” as it suggests the people are taking first steps toward trusting each other.

(2) In the first two lines the scansion is the same, until this shorter line. It’s not all there, like the cold wasn’t there either (the body language was serving a different purpose than trying to stay warm)

(3) Changed to match the rhythm of the preceding stanzas. True, it’s redundant, but it scans properly and I like the parallelism/pairing/emphasis on visualizing “side by side”, especially since a lot of us have to think about what right and left mean and might take a minute to “see” what the configuration is. I also got rid of “pace,” since it was the 2nd time I used it, and while I think the repetition of the words left and right is okay, because it reinforces what the poem is about, re-using “pace” is just lame.

(4) I like having this line with parentheses around it. It’s like the outer ears forming a border.

(5) I HATE the way this line sounds! The word “boundary” is difficult, but it’s the word that contains the meaning I intend. I’ll continue to think about how I can rewrite this.

(6) This line has gotten mixed reviews, but I like it. Hey, it’s iambic pentameter, what’s NOT to like? :slight_smile: The fact it is longer than previous lines suggests something is happening.

(7) Meh. Don’t love it, don’t hate it. The idea is exactly what I want, but if I can express it more elegantly, I will. I dislike ending on an unstressed syllable, but “country” has the same problem.
.

17

“Boundary”: could you use “(the) verge”?

I also think puddleglum is right about deleting “travel” – the meter is better without it.

I like the idea of the parens forming ears, but the period kind of throws that off balance for me – in fact, to me it feels like your use of punctuation is excessive.

18

“Verge” is an intriguing choice I wouldn’t have thought of. I went with “border” which is at least better than “boundary” and also captures the meaning I intended most precisely (the border between two countries). I’m not sure why I didn’t think of “border” earlier. I kept “boundaries” for the title, though, because it evokes relationships between people.

I appreciate the comment about excessive punctuation. You’ve identified one of my significant flaws with poetry writing; I have zero feel for how to punctuate it. As I’ve spent many years editing technical prose, I am very straight-laced about punctuation. I’m sure I ought to lighten up when writing poetry, but I have no idea how to do it artfully, and no teachers/peer reviewers to help (except for the assistance just received right here).

Anyway, here is the poem as I ultimately submitted it (I agree that I should have removed “travel.” Too late now!)

Boundaries

Over dinner we reveal:
In your right ear you are deaf;
I don’t hear well in my left.

Afterward we pace the streets
Hands in pockets, hunched against
Imagined cold.

You’re on my right, I’m on your left
(Our good ears travel side by side.)

Our deaf ears trace a border
Outside of which is all we’ve learned before.

Inside, we form a small new nation.

19

Outside is all we’ve learned before
Outside is all we’d learned before
Outside is all that we’d learned before
Outside is that which came before <-- I think I like that one

20

Too late now, but I laughed out loud at sinistral. Great choice.

I was going to suggest not asking for any advice. In that spirit:

Billy Collins

Mind you the advice didn’t do any harm, I really like the final result too.