pull
ing
music
from
the strings,
like you’re climbing
a jagged mountain ledge.
you stumble over the events
of your day, dragging the bow
behind you. forcing
your way ac-
ross the page,
you shove your
fingers onto the strings.
to coax every note, is what
you tell yourself. not cap-
turing them, while you relish the
deepening calluses. you’re not af-
raid to bleed, because you know it’s
music that will flow from your
veins, egged on by your
heart, drawn out
by your
b
o
w
ing
music
from
the strings,
like you’re climbing
a jagged mountain ledge.
you stumble over the events
of your day, dragging the bow
behind you. forcing
your way ac-
ross the page,
you shove your
fingers onto the strings.
to coax every note, is what
you tell yourself. not cap-
turing them, while you relish the
deepening calluses. you’re not af-
raid to bleed, because you know it’s
music that will flow from your
veins, egged on by your
heart, drawn out
by your
b
o
w
I was only about a third of the way in when my mind went, first, what is with these line breaks? (why such short lines?), and then, wait (why so shapely?), and then, ah, Aliza is experimenting with concrete poetry. Concrete poetry is poetry shaped visually in the image of its subject. The most famous poem like this is "Easter Wings," by George Herbert, though my favorite is "Swan and Shadow," by John Hollander. Emily Dickinson also played around with this fun, whimsical form. Your poem presents us with a violin (or viola, cello, bass, it's hard to say), and I thought you did a fine job honoring the form. One of the cool things about this form is how it forces us to try line breaks that we otherwise would never try. There's a lot to be learned from that, often in application to non-concrete (i. e. shaped) poems.
ReplyDeleteI don't have much to say about this poem in the way of suggestions. I guess maybe one small suggestion: the line that ends with the word "forcing" is slightly off-base from the visual image, compensated for by that extra space. Even as I write this, though, it occurs to me that you may be doing this on purpose, since the word "forcing" can be interpreted a suggesting that you meant to "force" this line to fit the shape.
I don't usually love concrete poetry. It usually feels like a cheap way to make your poetry look better (and somehow sound better?), but in this poem, I feel like the line breaks and the "jagged mountain ledge" that you create really fits with the theme of your poetry, and actually adds to your meaning.
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