Thank you for another substantial and thorough review. To answer a couple of you questions, the first entrance is ‘to enter’, the second is ‘an enchantment’. I know it’s a tripping point, and I’m not sure how to clarify it except to hope that the rhyme informs the reader.
Woofy was the actual name of a dog.
The ‘leaf’ thing… why ‘twig’ or ‘branch’? I am trying to allude to the olive leaf, symbol of peace, Biblical sign of land, etc.
I don’t know if this clarifies anything for you. Thank you again; I look forward to reading and reviewing (bestowing whatever ill-informed opinion I may have upon) your own sonnets.
The item you were looking for was deleted.
Poetry / The Church Hill Sonnets (Analysis)
I
The descent down Church Hill is lined with trees.
With their limbs stretched up to heaven in praise
They form a cathedral roof with a maze
Of boughs intertwined to catch the disease
That falls from the firmament to appease
The lusts of earthly thirsting hearts ablaze
As though the balm of rain would aptly raze
This passion that would incinerate seas.
Yet do I love without reason or rhyme!
In fact, all stands against this blaze to try
To extinguish it with tears and a sigh
Before all is engulfed by fueling time.
The road I tread is dark. Too dark to see.
Maybe I’m wrong and there’s no fire in me.
II
I walk through the heavy unlocked oak door.
I tap entering in case you are home.
I tiptoe past Woofy strewn on the floor,
Turn on the light and thereby cease to roam.
I breathe in the air thick with years gone by,
Taste lives past and smell who is yet to be.
I perch on a limb towering up high
Where generations have sat and dined free.
I remember faces of old and young
Embraced in communion; many made one.
With children instructed to hold their tongue
While Gramps told his stories of World War One.
All this remains a mystery to me,
The stranger who has climbed your family tree.
III
There’s something sacred about this table,
Oak like the door, rooted in love and time;
Like a lesson from some ancient fable;
The beauty of nature is made sublime.
It frightens me, this comfortable peace,
The fabric of tears, happiness and joy,
That wraps me up like a tangible fleece
And makes me feel like a lost little boy
Who is finally home… and yet not so,
For though I am welcomed with open arms,
As often as I arrive I must go,
Face this world alone, and endure its harms.
I don’t understand why your family bloomed
When mine died long ago; I still feel doomed.
IV
I walk through the kitchen on the wood planks,
Away from the entrance and my entrance
Induced by the shrine of so many thanks,
The creaks sounding out my every advance,
Past the old stove, the pilot light lit,
The eternal flame ever set to spark,
Just turn up the gas and stand back a bit,
The circle that burns bright blue in the dark,
To the upright piano, where I pause.
The yellowed ivory, faded ebony,
Disobedient to musical laws,
Without you here to bring your harmony,
Still rings with memories of string and song.
I continue hoping you won’t be long.
V
My journey ends in your room on your bed.
To no other end but rest from my mind.
I lie on the covers of all I’ve said
I sleep and toss as your flannel sheets bind.
From this cocoon I will stir and awake,
Slice a new current in the sea I swim,
I will carve from this deception so fake
A hollow to collect my running whim.
I hear the scratching now peeling away
Layers from Woofy pawing at your door.
He whines and cries until he gets his way.
He looks at me and falls onto the floor.
I don’t want to hold the axe in my hand
That will fell the tree of this precious land.
VI
I gather my dreams from where they are strewn.
I tidy the mess I made in my haste,
Take one last look in the light of the moon,
And turn to return to my life of waste.
The portal swings open of your accord.
You pass with a smile, your family behind.
You all are now home and I feel abhorred
Found in the branches where I have climbed
And snapped budding twigs to blossom no more;
There will be a poorer harvest this year
Unless someone tends to the limbs I tore.
I’m ashamed to have become what I fear.
Sap runs down the hilt of the axe I hold
And sticks to my hands out here in the cold.
VII
Walking back beneath the bowed boughs above,
Climbing the hill I descended amazed,
Trying to escape the beauty I razed,
Hands torn from wielding an axe with no glove,
Seeking no leaf in the beak of a dove,
And finding no sign of God to be praised,
My mechanized body has become crazed,
Tired and defeated with no faith in love.
I drop the instrument guilty of death,
That I swung to fell the tree of my life
That I climbed in search of my love, my wife,
For the axe is dull and I’m out of breath.
I can no longer tread this steep incline;
Whose are these steps that are making mine?
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Hapless reviewed Version 1 -
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unfortunately i can offer no constructive criticism for i wouldn’t change anything. i am amazed at how you told that story with rhymes that work, and such cleanly crafted lines. it all plays out like some old romance movie in my head.
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theone reviewed Version 1 -
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I thought this was very interesting. You do a great job explaining things. You can invison what you saw in your mind. I also really like the way you have things split up into different sections. This is kind of sad, but it is very vivid and beautiful.
NormaLizeth reviewed Version 1 -
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I think it would be good if you placed it in a more direct form as a story. the short sentences make it a little hard to graps, at some moments I found myself lost and had to re-read for the rest I think it’s quite interesting.
EAnonymous reviewed Version 1 -
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Absolutely stunning work. Beautiful story, language, and form. I cannot praise this enough. Yet there is always room for improvement, and here are my suggestions:
SONNET 1: line 13: a dash instead of the first period.
SONNET 2: line 1: too many syllables (I know it’s the right number, but it really doesn’t flow right- rhythm is more important than you might think)
SONNET 2: line 3: Woofy? this comes back later (S5,L10) and seems almost as out-of-place there… any other ideas for this?
SONNET 4: line 2: your second “entrance” is confusing, are you mispronouncing this for the rhyme? visual rhyme is OK, but the rest of the poem is very well rhymed when spoken as well. Please respond regarding this line- I’m curious.
SONNET 6: line 4: nice turn of phrase. The ending couplet is weak though, let’s talk more about that as well…
SONNET 7: Line 5: why “leaf” and not “branch” or “twig”?
The final couplet is the perfect ending to this opus. I commend you!
January 06, 2007
Deleted User
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I found this poetry an insparation, after reviewing just okay poetry to me.
This was a breath of fresh air!
The poem flows and seems to have a really good use of imagination, to describing details in your poem.
I really would like to read somemore of your poetry sometime soon!
Keep the good work up is all I can personally say!
R.
January 06, 2007
Deleted User
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The rhyming is so smooth and it wonderfully depicts the story. It is very literal and also symbolic, very interesting.
Thumper reviewed Version 1 -
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The rhyme pattern is a little wierd in the first sonnet, it kinda threw me off. This is pretty good, with a little tweaking it could be great.
StutheRabbit reviewed Version 1 -
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this is very well done, and very impressive at 26. it is far beyond me to review at such a late hour, yet i am curious as to who has written such a masterpiece, so i’ll leave you this for now and come back and have another look, hopefully tomorrow. all i can say for right now is you need to keep your rhyme scheme consistent, and try not to use the same end sound twice right next to each other, as you do with some of the rhymes, most noticeably in sonnet #1. i’ll be back, and thanks for posting this here.
woodsprite reviewed Version 1 -
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I feel you have something here, but it needs work still. THe first and last sonnets are really rough. They don’t have the flow of the others. I’m not sure whether they need to be ommitted, or rewritten. If omitted, then some of their needed content needs to be integrated into the other sonnets.
I am still unsure how the narrator has damaged this family tree. It is not stated or alluded to and that is too big of a question to leave the reader with. The reader needs a little closure on that one.
I’m ashamed to have become what I fear.
Sap runs down the hilt of the axe I hold
And sticks to my hands out here in the cold.” This is really beautiful. Maybe leaving the reader with this image, and begining with something like this too would be a strong way to frame these sonnets. Just a suggestion.
“Unless someone tends to the limbs I tore.
Wekwom_Teks reviewed Version 1 -
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absolutely and completely, hauntingly beautiful! bravo.
this piece struck at the chords of my heart, which has not been done often by a piece of poetry. beautiful.
how ironic that i describe this piece with the very word that you try to escape from in the last stanza, “trying to escape the beauty i razed.”
i think there is something very beautiful and holy about the human tragedy, that of the death of love felt and love given. the sentiments expressed in this are very serious and real and deadly. too true, i’m sad to say, and something felt at one time by most everyone.
this piece works so well throughout, it is obvious that this took time and attention, things too often not given a piece of such importance, and things that i greatly admire about this piece. the work of it and the final unveiling of it.
you should be proud, as i’m sure you are.
good job. it’s going down as one of my favorites.
may i say…keep loving though…despite. i can’t wait to read more of your poetics.
ciao and thanks.
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