I can't console the crying bird

[imaginary friend]

Here you go Lizzy.

http://www.dailymotion.com/relevance/se ... s%2Bmating

Cate posted this on Mat's 'Rusty Old and Beautiful' thread.

XO

Sheila

[Cate]

They climb the stairs.
Church bells sing across
the ceiling and spin.
The friends collide and move
into each others spaces,
create a new dimension, theirs
where they will tumble
into the touch of a hand.

... okay, all of you are probably right... the poem doesn't need much in the way of changes, but somehow I got hung up on the rhythm aspect... I've gone back to Cate's original poem, but let me try a few minor tweaks...

They climb the stairs.
Church bells sing across
the ceiling and spin.
The friends collide[,] and move
into each other's spaces,
creating a new dimension, theirs
where they will tumble into
the touch of a hand.

They climb the stairs.
Church bells sing across
the ceiling and spin.
The friends collide entering
each others spaces,
creating a new dimension, Theirs
where they tumble into
the touch of a hand.

----------------------

... I wonder at "and move into each other's spaces" since collide would suggest they've already moved into each other's spaces... but replacing that with "having moved" into each other's spaces, might lose something overall... anyway, just thinking out loud...

the friends could have bounced off of each other, or just stayed side by side. Theirs is a noun.
It could be many friends running up the steps of the place des arts or two friends sharing a still afternoon.
-------------

... oh, this post-coital slug situation is... I don't know... maybe life would be simpler without sex... it's something to consider, I guess...

Naw it's not sex that's complicated (well okay sometimes - depends on your skill level and available equipment - joke) it's really all the extra stuff that people like to try and tie into the sex that is complicated.
Sex for the most part is just another form of communication (or transferring data if you like) that people get all hung up about - myself included.

[Cate]

oh why not?

The friends collide
and like slugs, move
in each others spaces,

you made me smile
why not, but let's make them the leopard slugs, I think I like them the best.

okay, I think I should probably stop talking about slugs now.

[lizzytysh]

Thanks for giving me the link, Sheila. That's amazing and beautiful. I wish I could spot their ritual in progress and see it for myself. Efficient that they both end up fertilized .

I'm still not sure why the word collided ought to be used here. It sets up a contrast that I wonder about. Collisions are 'harsh' and unanticipated. Were they strictly friends before and their 'collision' and its outcome ended up a surprise to them both?


~ Lizzy

[Cate]

I'm still not sure why the word collided ought to be used here. It sets up a contrast that I wonder about. Collisions are 'harsh' and unanticipated.

~ Lizzy

Thanks for the suggestion Lizzy, you might be right, there may be a better way to express it.

This was a poem about friends, but I like Violets (or maybe it was Jacks) idea about a slug love poem.

[lizzytysh]

Having watched the slug footage now, I agree. I like the idea, too, Cate. If only there were a more poetic word for slug. Or, perhaps, the ritual could be incorporated/expressed without using that particular term. As longtime friends slowly becoming lovers, however, the analogy seems perfect. Even so, the slug ritual concludes with a thud . Hmmm.


~ Lizzy