Sharp, bare tree branches
Ascend the gold sunset sky,
Splintered silhouettes.
Her chin rests on soft
Hands at the window sill. How
Pale her reflection.
© B. Jason Reardon
3/25/99
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Toe Nail Bite
It comes with the pressure. Along shiny
smooth surface run narrow files, tight
ranks. Fresh dead strut forward daily.
At the front they jut out in flight
above the tender, soft surface
below. Oldest show yellow wear;
they are somewhat bent from long service.
Errant edge columns diverge from their
course. They march to the side, and
down. There, pressed too tight,
they pressure their way to painful land.
Into the soft, where no nail should bite.
There it is too deeply ingrown
to halt, but can I still run?
© B. Jason Reardon
12/10/99
smooth surface run narrow files, tight
ranks. Fresh dead strut forward daily.
At the front they jut out in flight
above the tender, soft surface
below. Oldest show yellow wear;
they are somewhat bent from long service.
Errant edge columns diverge from their
course. They march to the side, and
down. There, pressed too tight,
they pressure their way to painful land.
Into the soft, where no nail should bite.
There it is too deeply ingrown
to halt, but can I still run?
© B. Jason Reardon
12/10/99
Illumination at 3AM in a Suburb: Revised
I feel a presence. Behind my shoulder
autumn wind is undressing auburn trees
who with night’s dignity disrobe for winter.
I feel a presence behind my shoulder—
a lamp snaps on. Modest trees wither,
bright light on their bare canopies.
I feel a presence behind my shoulder.
Autumn wind is undressing auburn trees.
© B. Jason Reardon
Revised 4/14/05
The possibilites with this form are very interesting. The repetition of the lines allow for the meaning of the lines to either change or be reinforced. In this case I'm going for change. I don't feel like this poem quite comes together. "I feel a presence" and "behind my shoulder" are both weak. I'd like lines that provide better setting. A replacement like "along the sidewalk" for the second half is an improvement of setting, but it disrupts the whole rhyme scheme. A verb or adjective at the end of the second half which could change feel as it is repeated would also be pleasing. If I return to this poem again I'll probably gut it.
autumn wind is undressing auburn trees
who with night’s dignity disrobe for winter.
I feel a presence behind my shoulder—
a lamp snaps on. Modest trees wither,
bright light on their bare canopies.
I feel a presence behind my shoulder.
Autumn wind is undressing auburn trees.
© B. Jason Reardon
Revised 4/14/05
The possibilites with this form are very interesting. The repetition of the lines allow for the meaning of the lines to either change or be reinforced. In this case I'm going for change. I don't feel like this poem quite comes together. "I feel a presence" and "behind my shoulder" are both weak. I'd like lines that provide better setting. A replacement like "along the sidewalk" for the second half is an improvement of setting, but it disrupts the whole rhyme scheme. A verb or adjective at the end of the second half which could change feel as it is repeated would also be pleasing. If I return to this poem again I'll probably gut it.
Furious Revisions
What better use for a blog than revising and exhibiting old poetry? Maybe it will inspire me to begin new compositions.
Illumination at 3AM in a Suburb
I feel a presence. Behind my shoulder
the autumn wind is undressing auburn trees
who with night’s dignity disrobe for winter slumber.
I feel a presence behind my shoulder
of a lamp snapping active. Modest trees shudder,
shamefully bare: unnatural light exposes naked canopies.
I feel a presence behind my shoulder.
The autumn wind is undressing auburn trees.
© B. Jason Reardon
Original composed 11/23/99
the autumn wind is undressing auburn trees
who with night’s dignity disrobe for winter slumber.
I feel a presence behind my shoulder
of a lamp snapping active. Modest trees shudder,
shamefully bare: unnatural light exposes naked canopies.
I feel a presence behind my shoulder.
The autumn wind is undressing auburn trees.
© B. Jason Reardon
Original composed 11/23/99
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)