"Walking" I am still thinking about the sounds of the words in the lines. I need to find a way to preserve my indents and spacing. :(

Walking


Across this sea of blades that is my lawn
the tiniest oasis of red catches my eye.
I think there must be a poem in that
and try to remember the details while

I feed the neighbor’s cat. His food bowl,
a terra cotta plant tray, swims in its own ocean
of ant-repelling water, that seems to have seeped
through the side and is growing mold.

This must be cleansed or my neighbor will think me more
irresponsible
than our years of neighboring have proved. And now I notice
the crepe myrtle,
Dynamite I believe,
exploding on the south side of the house,
looking more like bloodied popcorn
surrounded by horns of mercy. I remain grateful
to see the bowl cleansed, the Sunday papers stashed,
and the tomatoes
ripening on the vine, not quite as stirring
as the flowers.

Since this occurs on a Sunday, this reader has the feeling that the walk has a redemptive quality. You asked about the sounds and you want to maintain your indents and spacing. S3 Line 2 would "careless" work for you in place of irresponsible? It picks up the sound of "cleansed" and "crepe myrtle" better.





I like the use of italics to draw the reader's attention to "Dynamite" as compared to the sudden flash of insight a poet gains from a particular moment. This dynamite moment is foreshadowed by "there must be a poem in that." (also italicized.)



In addition, I learned about the dynamite variety of crepe myrtle which is also spelled "crape myrtle" according to google. It is an explosion of red.

Thanks for the super suggestions. I will fix it on my computer copies. Good call on the crepe...I don't want to eat the plants.

Hi Pat

I am talking to you right now.

Todd

"Walking" I am still thinking about the sounds of the words in the lines. I need to find a way to preserve my indents and spacing.
tsukany on Wed Aug 24, 2011 5:24 pm


Walking


Across this sea of blades that is my lawn
the tiniest oasis of red catches my eye.
I think there must be a poem in that
and try to remember the details while

I feed the neighbor’s cat. His food bowl,
a terra cotta plant tray, swims in its own ocean
of ant-repelling water, that seems to have seeped
through the side and is growing mold.

This must be cleansed or my neighbor will think me more
irresponsible
than our years of neighboring have proved. And now I notice
the crepe myrtle,
Dynamite I believe,
exploding on the south side of the house,
looking more like bloodied popcorn
surrounded by horns of mercy. I remain grateful
to see the bowl cleansed, the Sunday papers stashed,
and the tomatoes
ripening on the vine, not quite as stirring
as the flowers.

Interesting poem. . .more to come. Pat

Across this sea of blades that is my lawn I like sea of blades; I'd drop that is. .. maybe use punctuation: --my lawn--
the tiniest oasis of red catches my eye. a tiny would take care of it, me thinks.
I think there must be a poem in that
and try to remember the details while what does try mean here: struggle? I'd get more particular

I feed the neighbor’s cat. His food bowl,
a terra cotta plant tray, swims in its own ocean (I like the repetition of ocean in this stanza.)
of ant-repelling water, that seems to have seeped seems seems to make it lame/ how about that seeped. . .
through the side and is growing mold. and grows mold. Assonance. . . I like.

This must be cleansed or my neighbor will think me more okay, cleansed took me by surprise. Formal. Deeper.
irresponsible telling word here; hmmm. maybe describe or metaphor ?
than our years of neighboring have proved. And now I notice here you are again: have proved. Formal, like another voice. Can you consider a different word for notice? Maybe a word with more umph?
the crepe myrtle,
Dynamite I believe, I believe or I see and believe?
exploding on the south side of the house,
looking more like bloodied popcorn
surrounded by horns of mercy. I remain grateful Okay, I'm seeing the symbolism: blood, horns of mercy, like Jesus on a cross. It's a boom thing? An awakening? An ah ha? Am I close or am I making all this up? I don't like grateful by itself. May need metaphor to tell it not be telling.
to see the bowl cleansed, the Sunday papers stashed, I'm definitely thinking salvation now. . . Sunday. . . .
and the tomatoes
ripening on the vine, not quite as stirring
as the flowers.I think of crepe mrtyles as having blooms, not flowers. To me, flowers grow out of pots and ground; blooms can be either on shrubs or plants. Please take what you like and leave the rest. . . . i get soooo wordy. It was fun though. Now, I will hit send. Hope this thing works again. Pat

Welcome to the group!