Need to know if you can follow this poem.

Does it make sense to you.  Suppose to be playful and imaginative.  : ) 

(I'm gone for weekend but will return. . . . more from me on Monday.) 


            A Man with Tanned Rims

 

A man who prefers sun to shade drives north. 

One hand on the wheel, the other rubbing

the rim of his ear.  Both ears are tanned like a field

of corn ready for a combine.  Hundreds of squirrels,

raccoons, and ground hogs run the rim of the other ear

as if on cue.  They run the hilly path, tumbling

and scurrying fur through fluttering leaves as they

catch whiffs of skunk.  Their own ears, alert and smooth.

Before reaching his destination, the critters return

along the rim to the secret cavern where they sit

huddled in a circle of deep darkness telling their stories,

one after another.  Then they curl up and take

a welcome rest.  The man’s ears are curved

and packed with slumbering fur.

Pat...you have used "rim" several times.  We can be trusted with the "Rim" of the title to guide us through the poem.  I wonder if we might be helped by stanza breaks.  You switch focus in a line.  Maybe you can use stanza breaks to help you in those spots...a visual cue for the content.  I'm not sure if you are creating a symbol poem or a personification of a fur cap covering a man's ears.  However, the man loves sun not shade.

Pat,  This reminds me of fantasy or Sci-fi stuff.  Maybe the breaks would help me stay up with which character or person is being spoken about.  For instance, where you say, "before reaching his destination the critters..." Who is the he?  The man, I guess, but am not sure.  I'm glad you prefaced it with imaginative or I would have thought I was nuts.  I know there is some deep meaning here but it's over my head. Seriously, though,  You need something to help the reader stay on track with who is doing what.  Keep on writing.  Dennis

This is helpful feedback:   rimmed it too much;  didn't say man where it was needed;  BUT did you like my furry animals coming out of a man's ears to skip and play?  run and jump?  : )   I didn't do stanza breaks because there is nothing orderly going on here.  Grandchildren inspire such crazy thinking:  critters living in the man's ears, his not knowing they come and go, but when tired, they go back inside his ear and talk and sleep like puppies. . . furry critters.  Maybe it's not for grownups?  Maybe it needs to be a dialog with grandchildren?  Not really a deep poem, but I think we may have animal traits inside us.  Warm and fuzziness, for sure.

A Man with Tanned Rims (You aren't sold on this description.  I think you want to have fun with animals living in a man's ear.  Write that poem.)
 
A man who prefers sun to shade drives north.  ("a man" in the title and then the first lines of the poem?)
One hand on the wheel, the other rubbing an ear.  (three "ears" in in three lines)
Both ears, tanned like a field of corn brimming
with ears, all ready for a combine. Hundreds 
of squirrels, raccoons, and ground hogs run (where did the animals originate?  I keep think coon-skin cap.)
the path of the man’s other ear as if his touch 
cued a marathon. They tumble and scurry, fur flying
through fluttering leaves where they catch whiffs 
of earth, corn, a promised rain. Their own ears, 
alert and smooth. Before the man reaches 
his destination, the critters return to the secret cavern 
where they’ll sit huddled in a circle of deep darkness 
telling stories and remembering autumn smells.  (This full sentence is my favorite.  Start with this and see what poem it develops.)  
Then they curl up and take a welcome rest.  
The man’s ears are curved and packed full 
of fur, slumbering fur.

Pat Durmon, 2013

right now!   They are OUT!!!!  One is 2 lbs, the other is 4 lbs.  They are taking over my life!!!! Maybe my poetry too!!! 

Pat...what is the head count so far?

My husband is so mama over them!   : )  He has never been quite this way about them.   We drove all the way to Malvern (south of L R) in the rain to get them!   He was just ya ya about it.   I could not postpone him or deter him.  And today, he is on the mower and they are all over the place!   8 weeks old.   Cute bundles of fur.  It's a hoot!   Pat

Pat...tell this story:  "We drove down to LR to pick up puppies and now my husband is crazy for them."  I think we try to create poems rather than recreate events in poetic form.  I am SOOOO GUILTY of this.  

I may have been trying to crate them in his ear?!!  And he has a hearing issue.  Really.  He is getting another hearing test and ordering an aid in November.  This may be deeper than I thought!   Heavenly days!   Thanks for the feedback and giving me ideas.   My experiences always help my poetry.  : )

Pat,  
Where you say "then they take a welcome..."   could be changed to read   "They take a welcomed rest where the man's rims (or ears) are curved and packed full of fur, slumbering fur."  That might tie up the loose ends in one swift line.

appreciate your help.  I may get two poems out of this. . . . a good thing.   Pat

May I suggest that you do something with the line breaks.  As I look at the "poem" it does not look like a poem.  It looks like prose with narrow margins. 


A few poetic devices  might also help. It sounds like a story to me.

a story poem. . . . you are exactly right.  I hear you:  you want more poetics.   Hmmmm.  I will consider that.   Thanks for continuing to look at it.  That's how I stretch myself as a poet:  I read others like Kooser who does short narrative poetry with a few poetics and I listen to critiques.  I probably modeled that poem after Ted Kooser.

Pat... Dewell here... late but intrigued by your poem...The more you explain the poem the more I like it... can you just stay with the puppies and the man?  Would make a great piece with which "Grands" would identify.  A couple of nit picks: try harvest instead of combine, clarify left ear rubbing and right ear cave, let the puppies do the dreaming of other furry animals... and the title seems bland.  Hope this helps.  Dewell

the puppies. . . they are overwhelming me and Jimmy is just eating it up!   I'm trying to make sure they don't puddle.  I think I need a course on puppies.  We have never had two at the same time.  We did have twin grandchildren though.  4 of us adults were overwhelmed by that too.  Now, they are best friends.  Okay, back to the poem. . . . when my company goes home and I have a bit of time, I'm rewriting it again, maybe from two angles with poetics and imagery, of course. . . .harvest IS a better word:  thank you.  I saw combines in the fields of corn so that's where that came from. . . .and I agree with title being bland. . .  just nothing else coming yet.  Maybe you can help me when I get all this edited again.  You know, I love editing the poem. . . . really, I do.  It's fun.  However, on the fortieth edit over 3 months, I don't care for it that much.   How are the leaves in Oregon?   : )