Forty winks is a colloquial English phrase meaning a short sleep, like a siesta.
Poetry / Forty Far-Flung Winks
Place the world slipping through these fingers, and I,
Will meet the rush of dangling names and places
At record speed, recording the sun
That hits and blushes in this
Topsy-Turvy-foolish dream.
And when it’s hot to breathe the air that’s all at once
Becoming foreign, let’s move to meet the skyline’s falling
Torrent, as we race against the levels of this
Far-off banter that’s beating us to scanter
From these forty far-flung winks.
Wake these dances disappearing with each blinking, where I,
Will grant us all this eager dreaming, still asleep.
Rustle me beneath these sheets of linen butterflies
Where the world is rising from another side.
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Well I have to say this is the stuff of Gods! It’s cosmic, apocalyptic, dreamlike and reassuring. It perfectly captures the two worlds of dream and wake in a rythmn and language which is heartfelt. One of the best poems I’ve read here. Well done and keep it up!
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Some mind-bending twisting of metaphors, the ‘linen butterflies’ was my absolute favourite. I keep trying to think of who the narrator is adressing, or what circumstances the ‘action’ takes place in, but I think that’s beside the point. I have a feeling it will baffle some though. One minor problem that I saw was the repetition in ‘Far-off’ and ‘far-flung’ on two consecutive lines. It’s not something that leapt out at me or anything, just thought I’d mention it.
You are undoubtedly the same poet whose work I just reviewed in a different poem, here, again, evoking masterfully the sounds of feeling in a breath. (you may want to aquaint yourself one day to a book called “The Work Of Knowing” about Robert Frost’s notion of the “sound of sense.”) You have a new fan. Your complex opening twist on old metaphors about the world gets the poem moving right from the start with the idea of “the world slipping through these fingers.” Spectacular! You rhyme in exciting ways, evident in the poem’s first stanza in your rhyme and fun alliteration around “dream” or in the second stanza’s unexpected combination of “foreign…/falling/torent.” Incredible and fun at the same time! I think your final rhyme works well too, not to mention the profound juxtaposition you manage to create between a dream world and non-dream world finally concretizing it at poem’s end in the neat metaphor of “linen butterflies.” Warning: your poetry will tend to be too complex for a lot of the reviewers on this site, so do not be pursuaded by the worst of them. Anyway, to finish, you have two weak spots here for me. For whatever reason I have a prejudice against the word “scanter,” feeling that it somehow really stands out as an artsy choice or as if you had to stretch to find it. The word does not exist in the vernacular while the rest of your poem relies upon the fabulous rushing musings of your speaker. Lastly, while I totally love the phrase “forty far-flung winks,” I have no idea what you are referring to. ”Winks” introduces a flirtatious connotation. ”Forty” gets me thinking about an old lover. I have an idea that you know that a person blinks forty times a minute or something, but there is nothing in this poem to inform the number, even if we can understand the carpe diem synergy of “winks.” A totally fabulous poem in any event!
March 15, 2007
Deleted User
I like the beat, it sounds like you could read it at a poetry slam with great action and theatrical. However I am not gathering much of a picture from the words. If I understood the meaning more maybe I could follow along better, but I like the general flow of the poem, how it reads out loud.
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