January Thaw

[Manna]

January Thaw

walking in this January thaw
the sun on your shoulder near me

you get tired now more than before
but I don’t mind your complaining

we walk slowly past the big tree
the one we ate under
the day you told me
about the tests

I sing that awful song
as we turn for home
and you laugh and say
I’m not going to do that

[mickey_one]

January Thaw

walking in this January thaw
the sun on your shoulder near me

you get tired now more than before
but I don’t mind your complaining

we walk slowly past the big tree
the one we ate under
the day you told me
about the tests

I sing that awful song
as we turn for home
and you laugh and say
I’m not going to do that

M, some I like, some a little less. you have a rather intriguing, intimate tone running here. but line 4 is wooden (so is line 5 but it's a tree, so that's ok). do you think the poem is stimulating enough for the reader not to know what the tests are about? risky. the last verse is enigmatic in its secrecy but I wonder if as a whole this piece might be too lacking in substance and blow away, which would be a real shame. I hope you do work more on this.

[Jimmy O'Connell]

I must admit that I agree with Mickey 1.... !!!!

It is too enigmatic. I like the tone, the rhythms etc etc but there is more needed here. What I suspect is that there is too much personal emotion that may be too raw at the moment for a poem to emerge... whatever I mean by that...

Jimmy

[lazariuk]

I like it because

I read it close to a january thaw and it gave me the feeling of what that was about

you make me feel the movement from one scene to the next and provide a reason for every change of pace and every turn of direction

I feel taken in to what is private but not so close to make me feel like I am intruding.

It's inspiring. It makes me think of how to be so considerate when I write about my involvement with others

really good work Manna

[daka]

Normally I react
To the mystery of poetry (when it's over-the-top mysterious)
Like a typical Irishman
Listening to a pompous Brit
...(NOT ALL Brits are pompous!!!... poetic license here, please)
But your poem, for me
Was enchanting
In it's intimacy
I loved it!

except for the first line

"

walking in this January thaw

which felt like the beginning of
what they call in Canada
a "jawbreaker"
an immense
very hard
round globe of gum
coated with bulletproof sugar

but I got over that quickly

did you intend the jawbreaker by any chance?

I realize it may be hard to present
the powerful expression
"January thaw" .... an oxymoron of sorts
as other than a jawbreaker
but I would at least give it a try

maybe "in the bitter winter sunny thaw"
or something like that

(the intimacy theme made me remember what I am missing in my solitary life!... I had this intimacy once!)

usually all I think about is the "homicidal bitchin'
that goes down in every kitchen
to determine who will serve and who will eat)

I had that many times!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Maybe my 5 star review is tainted by my subjective state?
4 1/2 .... I forgot the jawbreaker!

daka

[Cate]

I like the use of January thaw here. That time in winter when you can almost taste spring again. Its a small respite from the harshness of winter. Perhaps the narrator and/or the one who has had these tests is also experiencing such a respite.

I particularly like the line that follows.

the sun on your shoulder near me

I love the fact that the sun in on the one who is loved, the one who seems to need it most, but it is also near the narrator, one who also needs it. I'm not good with symbolism, maybe the sun is strength or spirituality or maybe the sun is just the sun. Whatever the sun is I like it's effect on me, the reader.

About the tests, in terms of the poem, I actually don't have a desire to know more. It doesn't seem important to the moment. If a specific illness was named my mind would wander there. The vagueness also allows the reader an opportunity to relate their own life experiences to the people in the poem.

As I was just typing I realized what I really like about this piece. I know nothing about this person the narrator speaks of, other then they are loved. I don't know if it's a man/woman, how they're related to the narrator or even if they're sick still. Even though I know none of this, I find myself wishing for good things for everything to be okay for both of them.

[lazariuk]

I particularly like the line that follows.

the sun on your shoulder near me

I love the fact that the sun in on the one who is loved, the one who seems to need it most, but it is also near the narrator, one who also needs it.

Oh yes yes I liked that too. The first thing I thought of when I read it was the words from the song that goes " sun on my shoulder makes me happy" and so there seems to be a flow from one to the other, of warmth shared.
Also after the "you get tired more"
it gets responded to with "we walk slowly" and you know this was a slowing of pace because of the awareness of one knowing the other is tired.

Also near the end it doesn't seem to matter what the awful song was, there seems to be a sense of something had happened, something in the between and so the turning for home was accompanied by a song that might of been testing this in a small way and the laughter in response was confirmation given.

And another reason I like it is because it caused me to think that the results of the tests could have been so many different things, someone is having a baby, someone is dying or any number of things. What seems important is for people not to be alone and certainly for those two they are not and it shows what comes out of this not being alone.

[Manna]

Daka, the jawbreaker wasn't intended. Jawbreakers where I live don't have gum in the middle, it's just a solid chuck of bulletproof sugar. do you have January thaws where you are? We have one almost every year. A welcome respite from our continuously abating winters, often ending with a hoarfrost - beautiful. if you're not from a place where you are used to using and hearing the phrase January Thaw, I can understand how it might be somewhat flumpsy for you to say. I could drop the "in" from that line, which might help, you think?

M-1, my first thought was: funny that you found line 4 to be wooden, since it is the most directly compassionate line of the work. And then I saw the problem - it's too direct. I think I need to do something tender to show that I don't mind, rather than just say I don't mind. OK, thanks. I also wanted to say to you that I appreciate your new approach to being critical.

I've been shying away from filling in too many holes on this. I can tell you that it's about a female friend of mine, not a lover, but it could be about anyone who is having tests. I might change big tree to old tree. I could add a few details, and that might help make it more interesting if I write it interestingly.

Thanks everyone.

[lizzytysh]

I also wanted to say to you that I appreciate your new approach to being critical.

So do I, Michael .


Manna ~ I like the "old tree" vs. "big tree," though there may be a word to make it both. Is "grandmother tree" too trite? For me, it conveys both.

I agree on your own, other ideas, too... regarding how to address the compassionate, wooden line and such.


~ Lizzy

[daka]

Hi Manna

Sorry to be at all critical
Who am I to criticize?
I think I am just trying
To let you know
What's happening
With my admittedly weird mind

I love your poem!
If it were permitted I might be envious

I have experienced the January thaw
In Canada
And Allegorically
I know it's delights

I just have a hard time
wrapping my mind-mouth around the first line

This is easier on my mind-mouth, for example:

in a January thaw
we walk
the sun on your shoulder near me

daka

[Steven]

Hi Manna,

I like the poem. The "Thaw" seems to suggest at least the possibility of some
concurrent internal change. The "I'm not going to do that" sounds as if it could
be the girding that someone attempts to set up for himself/herself, when facing a
challenge or, alternatively, just an assertion of the exercise of personal choice. "awful song," sounds as if it could be the "tune" we may sing of advice or input
we feel would be best for another to abide by.

[Alan Alda]

Is there a reason you stuck with a generic "tree"?

Why not an oak (strength) Willow (bends, but rarely breaks) Yew (taxol insinuation)

If I were to comment on one line, it would be this:

you get tired now more than before

doesn't "now" define the statement ? (With the, "more than before" creating a redundancy.)

L

[lizzytysh]

May I weigh in on this, too? Again? I guess you're just so open about having your poems looked at and critiqued and suggested upon that we all just pile on .

I don't know what kind of tree a Yew is, or what taxol means, but I like the idea of the strength of the oak or the flexibility of the willow, as it might pertain symbolically to what's going on in your poem. It would seem to be moreso than "big" would, unless she or the two of you suddenly feel much smaller now... or moreso than "old," unless you wanted to contrast how blessed the tree has already been to have reached that point, when we still have no idea whether or not we'll get there.

Interesting point about the redundancy of "than before," as I just used the same reference above [in "felt much smaller than before," noticed it, and went back to delete it. In fact, having just said that ~ "went back to delete it," the "went back" is redundant, too, I think... I sure couldn't have gone forward to delete it. So, is this just a speech habit we have that's okay in conversation [or not] and more noticeable in writing? Anyway, once I read that, it did actually seem redundant.

For me, personally, your last line is very sweet and intimate. I don't know if it refers to the actual singing of the awful song... or her doing what the lyrics of the song suggest, a song that you may have chosen as appropriate for the moment and her responding to a lyric you'd just sung. That really isn't what I wanted to primarily comment on, though. As strictly a poem, it just seems to be a 'weak' ending. If it was part of a dialogue in prose, it would continue on, or the action in the story would, but with it ending, there's just something about the poem ending with "that" that leaves me with a feeling of its being unfinished and me feeling too uncertain about what "that" is.

Your writing is generally much more specific than it is here. You seem to be really broad-brushing this one, telling us much more than showing us. I'm thinking of the comments you made about the group therapy one and thinking that what you said there may apply here, unless there's a 'distancing' here that's serving a purpose or is indicative of a state of mind, too.

Okay, that's my 3 cents.


~ Lizzy

[mickey_one]

the real problem with your poem is that lacks a picture

janthaw.gif (6.44 KiB) Viewed 2266 times

[lizzytysh]

Michael... awwww. [I see the visuals are about to get a lot more colourful around here Learning a skill like that makes you feel so empowered, doesn't it? I love it when that happens... those "Eureka!" times.]

Well, back to your poem, Manna. I had a whole new set of waking thoughts as I was literally waking, Manna. I suddenly [yes, in this case, the word applies] remembered, which then came to me full force with its details, a time when I walked out of a medical facility thinking I had breast cancer. I felt terrified and confused and the world 'appeared before me' in a whole different way. I remember looking at the trees and the sky simply because they were what were in my immediate field of vision. I was so much in those moments living in my head, with my mind and thoughts spinning with fear and confusion, and what I was actually seeing was registering with me, but in a generic way.

I saw the trees as "trees" and the sky as "the sky" and the light of the day seemed extraordinarily "bright" because as I saw/noticed each of them, I remember thinking that 'this' might be the 'last' time I would be seeing them. I was in a kind of shock and seeing everything through a lens of fear with a sense of finality. It was surreal. I wasn't really noticing or appreciating any of their details [though that stage may well have, as I understand it does, have come later], just the fact that they existed and that I wouldn't be around any more to see them. I'm not saying that this might be why a big tree was just that, or why you seem to be telling rather than describing; but it seems there could be some relation with how my perspective was that day; how that man was experiencing group therapy from inside his head; and how 'detached,' but still noticing, I was on the day I experienced.


~ Lizzy