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A Poem for Tuesday Morning

by Jordan789 

Posted: 24 April 2007
Word Count: 257
Summary: it is spring time, so shoot me for being sentimental


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A Poem for Tuesday Morning -

Not all Tuesday Mornings are worthy of a poem,
but today I can smell metaphor along with pollen.
I can feel a certain rhythm heating the air besides
me, like a truck engine idling
flashers flashing
waiting to be unloaded.

But for this Tuesday morning, I would like
this poem to melt into the city street:
a subtle sinking, and then an enveloping
of grit and grime over words, until finally the meaning
sinks into the subway trains and into the souls
of the shoes of the people,
waiting quietly for their stop.

I want this poem to be that sole wisp of cloud floating
above the spire of the empire state building,
standing against the wind and somehow hanging on
and flaps around in the breeze, like the flag of some
small foreign country that I've never heard of.

I want this poem to be read aloud by that homeless man who calls himself
Coach, who, if we can't spare a dollar, asks us to spare a smile.

I want this poem to be printed on the Mall of Central park, where the portrait artists wait for work, and where the elm trees line the pathway like frozen soldiers.

I want this poem to be a poem but more than a poem, an idea, but more than an idea, a feeling, but more than that, a mountain, or a flower petal.

But for now,
this poem can simply be a poem,
a long list of words
about a Tuesday morning.






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Comments by other Members



Account Closed at 16:16 on 24 April 2007  Report this post
Not all Tuesday Mornings are worthy of a poem,
but today I can smell metaphor along with pollen.


Delicious!

joanie at 22:24 on 24 April 2007  Report this post
Hi Jordan. My passion is short poems so I almost think that the first stanza would stand majestically alone. My favourite phrase is
that sole wisp of cloud floating
above the spire of the empire state building,
standing against the wind and somehow hanging on
and flaps around in the breeze


I wonder whether the last lines drag a bit. I can understand the repetitions but I think i
they weaken the poem. Perhaps there is an argument to prune a bit at the end.

joanie

Elsie at 22:54 on 24 April 2007  Report this post
Hi Jordan, I like tis, I think perhaps cyberspace has done something weird to you formatting towards the end.
Here:
and flaps around in the breeze,
should this be flapping?

I especially like:
until finally the meaning
sinks into the subway trains and into the souls
of the shoes of the people,


<Added>

er, this. Or 'tis a good poem. ;)

James Graham at 21:26 on 25 April 2007  Report this post
I hate to be perverse, but I especially like the long lines near the end. Whitmanesque repetition and Whitmanesque lines. I like the whole of this poem but will live with it a little longer before posting another comment.

James.

James Graham at 20:28 on 26 April 2007  Report this post
There are a couple of things that don't work so well for me in this poem, but I certainly like the poem generally. The first section brings out the idea very effectively - the unexpected lift the poem's speaker gets on this one Tuesday morning. The two main images, 'metaphor along with pollen', and an engine idling, are pretty strong.

It's the second section I especially like. It's the way you push the main idea just about as far as it will go. The poem (that is, the poem's enthusiasm about this particular morning) sinks into the city's grime and dust, mixing with it, getting into the very 'fibre' of the city - eventually into the subway, which is a sort of system of veins and arteries. Finally it rises like sap through the shoe-soles of the subway travellers. You haven't stopped halfway with this idea, you've carried it right through to its limit, and it works very well.

(Do you mean 'into the soles/ of the shoes of the people' which would be the spelling if it means just the bottoms of their shoes? Or is it meant to be 'souls'? 'Souls' is quite good actually - it seems to say that starting at the feet a new mood finds its way into their souls, into their being or consciousness. If you meant 'souls' it's a bit whimsical, but not entirely out of place.)

The next section doesn't work so well for me. The general idea of it follows kind of logically - now, after sinking into the depths of the city, the poem must reach the upper levels of the air too. That's fine. What I'm having trouble with is just the wisp of cloud somehow morphing into a flag. I can imagine the cloud seeming to stick on the spire of the Empire State Building...but then it flaps? Clouds aren't enough like flags. Maybe you need to separate the cloud from the flag, avoid describing the cloud as 'like the flag'. Clouds being blown past the tops of high buildings, and flags flapping in the wind, are both signs of the energy that's in the air, and these are good images to support the main idea of the poem. I just think maybe there should be a cloud over one building and a flag on another building.

I said before that I do like the long lines near the end. There's an interesting development in them too - from the individual, the homeless man, broadening out through a group of people - and a group of trees like people - to the broadest, most general ideas, 'a poem but more than a poem' etc. I don't know how you rate Whitman, but these lines do remind me of Whitman. Not just because of their length - I think the sketch of the homeless man Coach, the image of the elms like soldiers, and the parallel phrasing in the last of these long-line sections, are all Whitmanesque. For me this is the best poem you've posted on WW so far - adventurous, full of energy.

James.

Account Closed at 21:52 on 26 April 2007  Report this post
Yes, the flag-cloud didn’t work so well for me either, I was also unsure of sole / soul, however, this poem is so fresh and invigorating it's tempting to forgive...

I want this poem to be a poem but more than a poem, an idea, but more than an idea, a feeling, but more than that, a mountain, or a flower petal.


I loved these long lines, the energy which ramps through them, the juxtaposition of a large mountain and the petal, qualities so appealingly zen-like. This is not a small poem, it has a lot of ‘big’ and for me, certainly captures Spring.

Juliet

Jordan789 at 07:20 on 06 May 2007  Report this post
Hey all, thanks very much for reading and comments. I agree with it all pretty much. The flag/cloud transformation does not work for me, and I think that whole stanza needs to be axed, or simply reshaped. I like both of the lines individually, but my attempt at squashing them together didn't work, or it might if I try at it differently, I don't know. Alone I don't think they have much.

With the last few lines and Whitman--I like Whitman a lot. I've studied him in a few select lights and have written a couple of papers on him. And I can see how the idea of my poem is very similar to many of his. Particularly in the heightened sense of refreshment, an eager look at the world, a general happiness in everything he comes across. I actually grew up in the town Whitman started out Huntington, New York. But then he moved to brooklyn to be closer to the sailors, or so the rumors go.

sole or soul... i originally wanted sole, but i think they are fairly interchangable in this poem.

Thanks again.

James Graham at 15:31 on 06 May 2007  Report this post
I didn't want to make too much of your poem being 'Whitmanesque' - it doesn't read like an imitation of Whitman, but it's those things you mention, 'heightened sense of refreshment, an eager look at the world'. Your poem's in that kind of spirit. Maybe the lines on homeless man come closest, though - he might have been one of Whitman's answers to his own question: 'What think you I take my pen in hand to record?'

James.


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