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  last supper
« on: September 26, 2010, 10:56:52 AM » by milner place

today and yesterdays divided by a hedge
he thought
and in that thinking swung his eyes

to lazy fields
crops
gathered in
the stubble
gleaned
by avaricious
rooks
                                                 lively
                                                 the mermaid
                                                 lusting
                                                 in the surf
                                                 sand stardust
                                                 in the corn-glow
                                                 of her hair

                                                 cold beer

                
the orchard leaves
crisp golden
spun
waiting
for a wind
to drift them
to the tomb
                                                 her hair
                                                 silk-rustled
                                                 fingered
                                                 by a breeze
                                                 that knew
                                                 the language
                                                 of the vagrant
                                                 albatross

dawn came
like a serpent
sliding
to sad shine
on cold-douched
sky
wearing grey
scarves
and spitting
like
a cat
                                                 skylarks
                                                 threw shadows
                                                 on enamoured
                                                 limbs
                                                 doves singing
                                                 songs
                                                 like
                                                 cloudy down


nights
lengthening
fieldfares
come wintering
frost spangles
on the leafless
trees
casts spiders’ webs
of gleaming
on the pond
                                                 feet stamping
                                                 out a song
                                                 of swelling breasts
                                                 and buds
                                                 skirts all
                                                 awhirl
                                                 nacreous gleam
                                                 of teeth

                                                 rough wine

a rainbow
with the curve of scythe
a broken pot
beside
a river
and a sunken boat
its sails
made into
shrouds
its nails
to clinch
the box.
                                                 each night
                                                 was honey-proud and warmed
                                                 by wind-blown
                                                 music
                                                 of guitars
                                                 the moon
                                                 unnoticed
                                                 curtains
                                                 drawn
                                         
                  
a fox bitch
slinks
from harebell copse
                                                 a tall ship
                                                 rides
                                                 a golden sea


                   dark
                   sneaks up
                   with its gauntlet
                   grip

                   a nightjar
                   wings

                   the bats
                   are dormant
                   dreaming
                   under eaves

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'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #1 on: September 26, 2010, 11:05:49 AM » by Tom Riordan
Something magnificent in how this is all structured, Milner, that kept elevating me from the meaning of the individual words as I read, in a great way.
Missing space or typo at "of teetha rainbow"?
When I hit the "cold beer," I thought: Milner's so deft (not daft) when he mixes the profane and lyrical. I loved that touch, and had hoped to see it pop up again a bit more in the poem.
Will certainly come to read some more.
Tom
today and yesterdays divided by a hedge
he thought
and in that thinking swung his eyes

to lazy fields
crops
gathered in
the stubble
gleaned
by avaricious
rooks
                                                 lively
                                                 the mermaid
                                                 lusting
                                                 in the surf
                                                 sand stardust
                                                 in the corn-glow
                                                 of her hair

                                                 cold beer

                
the orchard leaves
crisp golden
spun
waiting
for a wind
to drift them
to the tomb
                                                 her hair
                                                 silk-rustled
                                                 fingered
                                                 by a breeze
                                                 that knew
                                                 the language
                                                 of the vagrant
                                                 albatross

dawn came
like a serpent
sliding
to sad shine
on cold-douched
sky
wearing grey
scarves
and spitting
like
a cat
                                                 skylarks
                                                 threw shadows
                                                 on enamoured
                                                 limbs
                                                 doves singing
                                                 songs
                                                 like
                                                 cloudy down


nights
lengthening
fieldfares
come wintering
frost spangles
on the leafless
trees
casts spiders’ webs
of gleaming
on the pond
                                                 feet stamping
                                                 out a song
                                                 of swelling breasts
                                                 and buds
                                                 skirts all
                                                 awhirl
                                                 nacreous gleam
                                                 of teeth
a rainbow
with the curve of scythe
a broken pot
beside
a river
and a sunken boat
its sails
made into
shrouds
its nails
to clinch
the box.
                                                 each night
                                                 was honey-proud and warmed
                                                 by wind-blown
                                                 music
                                                 of guitars
                                                 the moon
                                                 unnoticed
                                                 curtains
                                                 drawn
                                          [/i
                  
a fox bitch
slinks
from harebell copse
                                                 a tall ship
                                                 rides
                                                 a golden sea


                   dark
                   sneaks up
                   with its gauntlet
                   grip

                   a nightjar
                   wings
                   the bats
                   are dormant
                   dreaming
                   under eaves


Logged

  Re: last supper
« Reply #2 on: September 26, 2010, 11:41:18 AM » by Nora D
aha!!!  very nicely done!! right now, this is amazing to me, love the hedge and what I feel presumes to follow within - but then, I might be reading it all wrong - none the less, my first take is - wonderfull!!  ty so much for the treat today, I sorely needed it
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  Re: last supper
« Reply #3 on: September 26, 2010, 11:58:56 AM » by milner place
Thanks, Tom, I've stuck 'rough wine' in to maybe compliment the 'cold beer'.

Now I've my treat for today from you, Nora.

milner
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'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #4 on: September 27, 2010, 09:52:44 AM » by milner place
Tinkered with the end of this. Would welcome feedback on this poem, especially on the form chosen.

milner
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'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #5 on: September 27, 2010, 10:19:52 AM » by Tom Riordan
In last S, I miss the beat of the "the" before "bats." The form, Milner, is so clear and at the same time provides so much complexity, leading to the less indented final S's, which just do seem to be perfectly balanced in several different respects and directions. I'm a big fan of this poem! The title, I'm not sure about. -Tom
today and yesterdays divided by a hedge
he thought
and in that thinking swung his eyes

to lazy fields
crops
gathered in
the stubble
gleaned
by avaricious
rooks
                                                 lively
                                                 the mermaid
                                                 lusting
                                                 in the surf
                                                 sand stardust
                                                 in the corn-glow
                                                 of her hair

                                                 cold beer

                 
the orchard leaves
crisp golden
spun
waiting
for a wind
to drift them
to the tomb
                                                 her hair
                                                 silk-rustled
                                                 fingered
                                                 by a breeze
                                                 that knew
                                                 the language
                                                 of the vagrant
                                                 albatross

dawn came
like a serpent
sliding
to sad shine
on cold-douched
sky
wearing grey
scarves
and spitting
like
a cat
                                                 skylarks
                                                 threw shadows
                                                 on enamoured
                                                 limbs
                                                 doves singing
                                                 songs
                                                 like
                                                 cloudy down


nights
lengthening
fieldfares
come wintering
frost spangles
on the leafless
trees
casts spiders’ webs
of gleaming
on the pond
                                                 feet stamping
                                                 out a song
                                                 of swelling breasts
                                                 and buds
                                                 skirts all
                                                 awhirl
                                                 nacreous gleam
                                                 of teeth

                                                 rough wine

a rainbow
with the curve of scythe
a broken pot
beside
a river
and a sunken boat
its sails
made into
shrouds
its nails
to clinch
the box.
                                                 each night
                                                 was honey-proud and warmed
                                                 by wind-blown
                                                 music
                                                 of guitars
                                                 the moon
                                                 unnoticed
                                                 curtains
                                                 drawn
                                           
                 
a fox bitch
slinks
from harebell copse
                                                 a tall ship
                                                 rides
                                                 a golden sea


                   dark
                   sneaks up
                   with its gauntlet
                   grip

                   a nightjar
                   wings

                   bats
                   are dormant
                   dreaming
                   under eaves


Logged

  Re: last supper
« Reply #6 on: September 27, 2010, 11:09:57 AM » by Doris Chance
I like the hedge-jumping format, not sure I have grasped the poem. Will read again.

Cheers
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Yes. I don't read poetry.

  Re: last supper
« Reply #7 on: September 27, 2010, 12:41:41 PM » by milner place
Thanks so much, Tom. I've got that 'the' back. The title was important in conceiving the poem, but now it's done its job I'll give it further thought.

Doris, I'm glad you liked the concept. Hope it draws you back, and that whatever you grasp is pleasurable.

Cheers

milner
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'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #8 on: September 27, 2010, 01:34:33 PM » by Tiko Lewis
Milner,

i read down one side, then down the other side as well as 'hedge jumping' as Doris put it.
for me it yielded two totally different poems, which i found quite fascinating.  i can't say i
walked away with an overall impression or grasp, but it was, nevertheless, a fun read. the
language was excellent, as it is par for you, and the format allowed this to bloom in several
directions.  i enjoyed very much.  when read down each side, it seemed like a progression
but when read jumping the hedge, it seemed to happen simultaneously, opposing each other
competing and coexisting.  and in the final stanzas, the form comes together and stays apart
depending how you read it (separating the fonts or all together or mis-matched) yielding
many different endings options. 

true art, sir.  i have nothing but the highest praise for this offering. 

thanks,

tiko
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...i don't eat jelly beans afterward.

  Re: last supper
« Reply #9 on: September 27, 2010, 03:04:34 PM » by Tiko Lewis
uuummmmmmmmmmm, i'm picking this!!!!

tiko
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...i don't eat jelly beans afterward.

  Re: last supper
« Reply #10 on: September 27, 2010, 05:16:26 PM » by milner place
wooooooooooooow Tiko. Muchos thanks

milner
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'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #11 on: September 27, 2010, 05:26:24 PM » by Doris Chance
Thank you, Tiko. That was sort of kinda what I was going to say - ish.

Not so much grasped as enjoyed, in other words.
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Yes. I don't read poetry.

  Re: last supper
« Reply #12 on: September 28, 2010, 06:31:48 AM » by milner place
Thanks, Doris. I'm so happy this has been enjoyed, because it was an instance of the poem choosing the form rather than being fitted into a comfortable one.

milner
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'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #13 on: September 28, 2010, 08:34:09 AM » by silent lotus
dear Milner

i see multiple presentations
here are a few thought sketches

silent lotus


1)  a scroll with a horizontal layout
( presented about ten meters long on a white wall, with raised letters (embossing) and lit by only
an overhead strip of sklylights to create an ever so faint shadow under the letters

2) a hanging Noren where the base is held tight by rope and rocks......and the top perhaps
with rope and a very heavy ( large ) wooden set of blocks and tackles

3) on a stage where the text is presented by projection ( creating a floating poem )
and having 18 readers spaced randomly in the audience who would stand up only when
reading their words in between (extremely soft) recordings of nature......the sea breeze,
leavings rustling,rain etc etc etc.


~
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  Re: last supper
« Reply #14 on: September 28, 2010, 09:48:44 AM » by Dax








splendid, g
bueno!

d





.
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“Always be nice to bankers. Always be nice to pension fund managers. Always be nice to the media. In that order.” - John Gotti

  Re: last supper
« Reply #15 on: September 28, 2010, 09:49:08 AM » by Tom Riordan
4) a grizzled man standing beside a pint of pale ale Black Sheep bitter.
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  Re: last supper
« Reply #16 on: September 28, 2010, 03:39:41 PM » by milner place
Wow, SL, this may be better than I'd thought.

Mil gracias, Don R.

Tom, could you make it Black Sheep bitter rather than pale ale? I'd soak that up.

Cheers

milner
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'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #17 on: September 28, 2010, 09:56:35 PM » by maggie flanagan-wilkie
Mil, thoughts on a more fluid opening.

Interesting poem.  Mag


today and yesterday's divided by a hedge
he thought
and in that thinking swung his eyes

to lazy field crops
gathered in stubble
gleaned
by avaricious
rooks

the orchard leaves
crisp
      golden
               spun
wait for a wind
to drift them
to the tomb

dawn rode in
on a cold-douched sky
wearing grey scarves
and spitting like a cat

The language loses control of its images for me in these lines, Mil.
nights
lengthening
fieldfares
come wintering
frost spangles
on the leafless
trees
casts spiders’ webs
of gleaming
on the pond

The rest works to here:
Bats are nocturnal. They should be waking.                   


bats
dormant
under eaves
begin to waken

                 


                           
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  Re: last supper
« Reply #18 on: September 28, 2010, 10:14:34 PM » by larry jordan
Milner, The format makes the poem, increases the contrapuntal nature of the seen / imagined. I of course like the non-narrative flow. Wonder if it could end at 'dreaming'. Any explanation,  clarification with modifiers makes the narrator too present.
This is a work that initiates savoring. Quite fine indeed.

larry
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  Re: last supper
« Reply #19 on: September 29, 2010, 07:26:54 AM » by milner place
Thanks for your work and suggestions here, Maggie. I must give it more thought because although I'm attracted by the suggestions, I have also to consider them in relation to the other side of the poem.

Here bats hibernate in the cold months, and it's to that I'm referring.

Thanks, Larry. I'll consider that chop at the end. I did want the bats asleep and sheltered, and so tucked them up under the eaves. Maybe a re-ordering may occur to me.

Cheers

milner
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'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #20 on: September 29, 2010, 08:54:30 AM » by milner place
Oh, forgot to mention that pint went down a treat, Tom. Off for another.

Cheers

milner
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'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #21 on: September 29, 2010, 09:00:52 AM » by Tom Riordan
Any time, mate.
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  Re: last supper
« Reply #22 on: September 29, 2010, 09:12:37 AM » by silent lotus

Oh, forgot to mention that pint went down a treat, Tom. Off for another.

Cheers

milner


dear Milner

Black Sheep Bitter & Bats

feels like there could be a poem there too !


cheers
silent lotus
Logged

  Re: last supper
« Reply #23 on: September 29, 2010, 10:43:55 AM » by milner place
That will test my mettle, SL. It's not my lot to 'suckle fools and chronicle small beer'.

Cheers

milner
Logged

'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #24 on: September 29, 2010, 12:23:07 PM » by Lynn Doiron
beautiful, and all other words of praise already left to grace this thread.

lynn
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My blogs:
http://lwww.lynndoiron.wordpress.com for memoir/journal/poetry

  Re: last supper
« Reply #25 on: September 30, 2010, 05:00:48 AM » by Tiko Lewis
it's my most esteemed pleasure to place this
on the front page!  it's such an adventure.

tiko
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...i don't eat jelly beans afterward.

  Re: last supper
« Reply #26 on: September 30, 2010, 05:21:04 AM » by James Carver
agreeing  with tiko. loved the structure and word usage which suited the piece quite well

cheers

james
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Enjoy the fruits of labour but never forget to honour the roots of the tree – James Carver

  Re: last supper
« Reply #27 on: September 30, 2010, 10:00:45 AM » by milner place
Oh frabjus day. That's set me chortling, Tiko, and thanks for such a generous endorsement.

Your words are also music, Lynn and James.

milner
Logged

'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #28 on: September 30, 2010, 11:19:50 AM » by Tom Riordan
congrats, Milner! Tom
Logged

  Re: last supper
« Reply #29 on: September 30, 2010, 04:39:59 PM » by R Raymond
Printed and saved.  Even more enjoyable in the tactile form.  On nice paper.  With notes. 

Thanks for a great one.  RLR
Logged

  Re: last supper
« Reply #30 on: September 30, 2010, 05:28:36 PM » by milner place
Thanks, Tom.

Much gratified by that compliment, Bob.

I raise my glass of Black Sheep bitter to you both.

Cheers

milner
Logged

'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #31 on: September 30, 2010, 09:41:58 PM » by Lavonne Westbrooks
Glad to see this here!
Logged

  Re: last supper
« Reply #32 on: October 01, 2010, 06:55:40 AM » by milner place
Me too, Lavonne  ;). As an ex editor I'm so aware, as many members may not be, of all the thankless administrative work you put in for the site. Thanks on behalf of all.

milner
Logged

'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #33 on: October 01, 2010, 10:51:51 AM » by Oskar
milner

Let me add to the applause. A pleasure to read.

I just wondered if

dark
sneaks up
with its gauntlet
grip

might stand a small improvement? sneaks up lacks the splendour of the lines that precede it, imho.

dark
smuggles in
its gauntlet
grip

This might provide a useful link with the sea perhaps?

Just a thought.

Regards



Logged


  Re: last supper
« Reply #34 on: October 01, 2010, 12:40:45 PM » by milner place
Thanks, Oskar. I'll think on the that 'sneaks up'. I don't think 'smuggles' quite fits my bill, but that doesn't rule it out. Most alternatives in my head at the moment have little 'splendour'. Wouldn't wish to be to clever here just for the sake of being 'poetic'. I'll muse...

Cheers

milner
Logged

'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #35 on: October 02, 2010, 09:13:28 AM » by StellaR


amazing pen, milner


pleased to see it on the Front Page
many congratulations!



Stella
Logged

“Logical argument is what destroys poetry because poetry is beyond logic.” Robert Graves

  Re: last supper
« Reply #36 on: October 02, 2010, 09:44:50 AM » by Lynn Doiron
Applause from here, Milner!

ld
Logged

My blogs:
http://lwww.lynndoiron.wordpress.com for memoir/journal/poetry

  Re: last supper
« Reply #37 on: October 02, 2010, 01:44:18 PM » by milner place
Thanks, Stella, Lynn. My cup runneth over, making me tipsy trying to lap it all up, especially after John's piece.

Cheers

milner
Logged

'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

  Re: last supper
« Reply #38 on: October 06, 2010, 09:14:34 PM » by tom mccoy
Nice dichotomy that really works together.  And seamless re-integration. For some
reason I was jarred by the "cold-douched sky"--seemed out of character with the
rest of the poem, I guess.  Good poem nicely rendered.

                                                           tom mccoy
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  Re: last supper
« Reply #39 on: October 07, 2010, 08:20:00 AM » by milner place
Thanks, Tom. I'll think further on 'cold-douched', though it seems to describe what we've been having lately in this happy island.

Cheers

milner
Logged

'Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar'
- Antonio Machado

Latest book 'naked invitation' $15 or £10, p&p inc milnerplace@msn.com

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