I can feel the night in this poem move. But the repetitive occurrences of ‘of’ beginning four lines somewhere in the middle of the poem slows things down. Yes, it’s a sore point of mine, but I believe it signals a certain slackness. In the poem as well as the poet I suppose. And too many prepositions and conjunctions beginning lines near the end as well. Slows the fine mechanism down. And a somewhat strong ending almost destroyed by weak construction.
Before Losing Yourself Completely to Love by Mark Yakich
I like plain language. This is certainly plain. There’s a fine line between the ordinary and the dull. And this poem walks it. Straddles it. But does it fall over it? Unfortunately, I think.
And Day Brought Back My Night by Geoffrey Brock
New policy. When confronted with more than one poem in the daily poem, I’m always taking the first. And this first one is a complete success. The language and even the thought is commonplace of course but anything but dull. Risking cuteness in the last line, but I think it just clears that hurdle. Next, the mechanics. Yes, a sonnet. Great identical rhyme scheme in the octave! (Ah, the perfect world.) Great slant rhyme scheme in the sestet. (Oh, the world is sliding.) And the turn is astounding. Like a revelation itself. (and I don't even care if lines 12 & 13 are possibly hexameter-who cares!) Ruthless. Absurd. Bravo!
No comments:
Post a Comment