tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763772100015353700.post5681964429826392291..comments2023-10-11T14:18:03.816+01:00Comments on Works Well: Idle holiday thoughtsRoderick Robinsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16828395545197001637noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763772100015353700.post-2747653045606408532009-06-29T00:34:44.310+01:002009-06-29T00:34:44.310+01:00"I'm not sure I can handle this."
S..."I'm not sure I can handle this."<br /><br />Sure you can, Big Boy!<br /><br />:DThe Crowhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04846997590157958766noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763772100015353700.post-55467093126094317222009-06-28T15:53:05.197+01:002009-06-28T15:53:05.197+01:00The Crow/Lucy: Omigosh. I'm not sure I can han...The Crow/Lucy: Omigosh. I'm not sure I can handle this. Say I'm weary, say I'm sad, say that health and wealth have missed me, If you want a reason, add... Humble thanks anywayRoderick Robinsonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16828395545197001637noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763772100015353700.post-71529090265648321142009-06-28T15:38:45.936+01:002009-06-28T15:38:45.936+01:00Isn't Crow lovely!
I've often felt I want...Isn't Crow lovely!<br /><br />I've often felt I wanted to write about being in a swimming pool, but haven't had the first idea how to approach the subject, this hits the spot for me too. I specially like:<br /><br />But pools – all pools – enclose an inner space<br />That holds the swimmer like an ambered fly.<br />Seen from within the water’s silvered face<br />Casts back a diamond’s faceted reply.<br /><br />I like the complementary colour of amber with the blue pool. In fact I just like this altogether...Lucyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09764296105901909328noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763772100015353700.post-15883347747015795232009-06-25T20:25:46.323+01:002009-06-25T20:25:46.323+01:00I saw nary a drop of sweaty blankness in your poem...I saw nary a drop of sweaty blankness in your poem. I saw a man who enjoys swimming for a myriad reasons, not just as exercise or for keeping his body cool. I saw a man who lived as one with the water, ever mindful of his limitations and the dangers inherent, but who, nonetheless, was having a helluva good time. I saw that, and felt it through your poem. Precisely what poetry is supposed to do, in my book.<br /><br />It works well, Friend.<br /><br />:)The Crowhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04846997590157958766noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763772100015353700.post-9667079880840183192009-06-25T17:24:37.391+01:002009-06-25T17:24:37.391+01:00Oh no, not a stone. I've always worried about ...Oh no, not a stone. I've always worried about that practice, perhaps because at an impressionable age I read a short story which climaxed when the central character "passed a stone". The associations are horrifying.<br /><br />I apologise for my carelessness. I should in fact have unequivocally relished what you were saying since - I assume, I hope - you were suggesting I'd managed to keep the sweaty blankness of the writing process out of the poem. For which many thanks. I loved your sign-off in which you simulated Brit talk. In fact you don't gush, you articulate enthusiasm - quite a different matter. No stones, now.Roderick Robinsonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16828395545197001637noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763772100015353700.post-73448327068941019532009-06-25T16:41:22.845+01:002009-06-25T16:41:22.845+01:00Friend, I didn't say, nor do I think, that wha...Friend, I didn't say, nor do I think, that what you do is necessarily easy, simply because you have a natural talent for putting together just the right words. What you do is like the sculptor who takes a block of stone or wood or clay and works steadily, consistently and -- yes, often bruised or bloodied by the process -- to fashion a fine work of art.<br /><br />There is something in you, RR -- like Lucy's and Marja Leena's eye with their cameras -- that subconsciously envisions the end 'product' when confronted with the jumble of thoughts and feelings that is the raw material of poetry, and turns all of that into something beautiful...maybe in spite of yourself, but there it is, for all of us to see and enjoy.<br /><br />I don't have Joe's learned, well-read appreciation of poetry and all its nuances, forms, et cetera. What I do have is a sensitive heart that is affected by what others say in their chosen art forms. I may not understand why a piece affects me the way it will, but not knowing the whys and wherefores does not lessen the experience for me, nor devalue what I perceive as beautiful. And sometimes I gush, when a more sober personality might say, conservatively, "Well done, old boy; well done." Well, hogwash with all of that! <br /><br />Would you feel better if I just leave a stone?The Crowhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04846997590157958766noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763772100015353700.post-62536247596725047732009-06-25T15:38:05.814+01:002009-06-25T15:38:05.814+01:00I appreciate your response - any response. However...I appreciate your response - any response. However there's a certain amount of irony in your last sentence. If I'm a natural then it's something born out of long, long periods spent looking off into nowhere, conscious of the sweat running down my back, aware that the cupboard is bare and may be bare for hours and/or days to come, being dragged back to a line I thought was OK and finding it wretched, wondering where it will all end, etc, etc - in fact as natural as natural childbirth. However it's encouraging to receive a reaction that quotes my own stuff. Quite flattering, really. And from a true big-game hunter.Roderick Robinsonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16828395545197001637noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763772100015353700.post-42192608212182666772009-06-25T13:27:25.680+01:002009-06-25T13:27:25.680+01:00A paen to the joys of the pool! I especially like...A paen to the joys of the pool! I especially like the imagery from this passage: "A gesture from a bubble-beaded hand<br />Reaching to launch more bubbles from below..."<br /><br />"A cheapjack blue..."; "holds the swimmer like an ambered fly," all beautifully turned phrases that linger on in the mind, spiraling off into other images, other poems--nascent, budding, ultimately withering.<br /><br />You are a natural at this, I think, Friend BB.The Crowhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04846997590157958766noreply@blogger.com