Author Topic: My Grasses  (Read 618 times)

Offline Jia Ming

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My Grasses
« on: October 15, 2017, 03:30:31 PM »
My grasses curtsy forced,
Beside so ‘manly trees,
Ferns licking every hunchbacked bow
With marriage-knot decrees.

My childish sun is slow,
Revealing each by each,
How slick my grasses’ back bent back,
Whose Sigh so out of reach.

My ants lay flat on top,
Just basking, then a shriek,
Oh, that was nothing, just the grass
Now sounding so antique.
« Last Edit: October 16, 2017, 12:19:11 PM by Jia Ming »

Offline Mark T

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Re: My Grasses
« Reply #1 on: October 15, 2017, 05:15:38 PM »

I can't figure out what this is about with regard to grasses. It feels like the sense of the poem is subservient to the rhyme scheme. Who is the narrator?

Offline Jia Ming

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Re: My Grasses
« Reply #2 on: October 15, 2017, 07:37:47 PM »
For me it's either a person in the jungle admiring nature or a gardener or a farmer observing his land, wondering about their daughters.
« Last Edit: October 16, 2017, 06:22:23 AM by Jia Ming »

Offline duck

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Re: My Grasses
« Reply #3 on: October 16, 2017, 11:06:52 AM »
Hey
As usual I find a huge gap between what you comment you perceive and intend and what is actually happening: surely if you are the writer you can't simply supply a serious of possibilities of what it could be as in this or this or this? At a push the garden may work here though there is no hint of a gardener except in 'my' and person in a jungle is very broad. As for the daughter that is in youor imagination but where is it apparent of rthe reader in the poem?
Dave

Offline Jia Ming

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Re: My Grasses
« Reply #4 on: October 16, 2017, 11:26:22 AM »
Oh sorry, I misinterpreted and thought you asked what I imagined. The specifics doesn't have to be a gardener or a daughter, they are just what I had specifically seen in my head. They really are anything, as long as it goes along the lines of a feminine entity for the grass, and a socially-insignificant narrator who perceives with lots of ownership and pity. This I hope can be seen, not the gardener and daughter.

Offline indar

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Re: My Grasses
« Reply #5 on: October 16, 2017, 12:04:41 PM »
Hi Ja Ming,

Pity for grass that is forced to bow? I guess you are thinking this is an analogy for feminine subservience---perhaps? Somewhere I heard a lecture---who gave it and what the actual subject was I don't remember. But I retained this little nugget: what is the difference between sentiment and an expression of true emotion? An example of sentiment he gave is that of a mother whose child is safely tucked in bed for a nap. She looks out the window, sees the child's tricycle in the rain and starts to cry. Her response has no basis in the circumstances presented.

Reading your poem I don't feel any empathy for the feminine presence (perhaps mother nature?) or for her bent grasses. There are only certain words I believe are meant to trigger some response but the circumstances don't fit. You have written some wonderful things so I know this is not representative of your best work.

Offline Jia Ming

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Re: My Grasses
« Reply #6 on: October 17, 2017, 01:43:04 AM »
Thanks Indar, I see exactly what you mean. I guess it really isnt something that can be edited out, but only to keep in mind. I agree this poem doesn't have strong enough fundamentals before attempting to slice the topic; I wonder if it was due to the rhyme scheme or maybe just a weird connection of implications in my head. Anyway, thank youall so much, can finally see the poem in new light!

JanTetstone

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Re: My Grasses
« Reply #7 on: November 12, 2018, 02:27:08 PM »
My grasses curtsy forced,
Beside so ‘manly trees,
Ferns licking every hunchbacked bow
With marriage-knot decrees.

My childish sun is slow,
Revealing each by each,
How slick my grasses’ back bent back,
Whose Sigh so out of reach.

My ants lay flat on top,
Just basking, then a shriek,
Oh, that was nothing, just the grass
Now sounding so antique.



I love your poems feel.... I hope this is acceptable.   jt

My Grasses

Beside so ‘manly trees
My grasses curtsy forced,
With marriage-knot decrees,
Ferns licking every
hunchbacked bow.

How slick my grasses’ back
bent back.

My childish sun is slow
Revealing each by each,
Whose Sigh so out of reach.

My ants lay flat on top,
Just basking, then a shriek,
Oh, that was nothing, just
the grass...
Now sounding so antique.