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Post by Ivan Carswell on Mar 6, 2008 19:02:56 GMT -5
And the Piper dreams as he pipes up in his mind colours in choral horizons distant, of courtliness dimmed in time.
At the puddling water’s edge he stands spread square and neat and blows a lambent dirge, a frisson to the hatchling-surf, sundering and dying at his sandy feet.
Into the bile green sea he chants and drones atonic rhyme for the seaward swells which bow and sway and pay no mind to grandeur of the piper's tune.
The sleepy listener creams and churns reluctant in his notes entreating flight, resistant to solitary tunes.
A metronome, his heart keeps time and pulses with the echoes of the cliffs behind and scented air's accompaniment, he is alone in his lament. © 1965 I.D. Carswell
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Post by Bernard Alain on Apr 4, 2008 23:14:08 GMT -5
I'll try a blueline on this Ivan, not a crit just some possibilities, the idea behind good bluelining is to remove potential run-on or potential duplication in the descriptives, more a international concern than grammatical et al
so here goes
And the Piper dreams(,) as he pipes up in his mind colours in choral horizons
distant, of courtliness dimmed in time.
At the puddling water’s edge he stands spread square and neat (,)
and blows a lambent dirge, a frisson to the (a) hatchling-surf, sundering and dying at his sandy feet.
Into the bile green sea he chants and drones atonic rhyme
for the seaward swells which bow and sway and pay no mind
to grandeur of the piper's tune.
(a)The sleepy listener creams and churns reluctant in his notes entreating flight, resistant to solitary tunes.
A metronome, his heart keeps time and pulses with the echoes of the cliffs behind and scented air's accompaniment,
he is alone in his lament.
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Post by Ivan Carswell on Apr 7, 2008 22:49:29 GMT -5
Thanks Bernie. The original was written 44 years ago; it was one of a few which managed to survive translation from paper to the first pre-historic PC. I suppose I kept it as an example of those days, a reminder of how I used to write. Your spruce certainly pushes it out of the water's edge...
So, living with the times...
and the Piper dreams up in his mind colours in choral horizons
at water’s edge spread square and neat he blows a lambent dirge, frisson to hatchling-surf sundering and dying
chants and drones atonic rhyme to bile green sea where seaward swells play forgetfulness
the sleepy listener creams and churns, reluctant in the notes entreating resistant to solitary tunes
time pulses slow with echoes of the cliffs behind and scented air infused in his lament
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Post by Bernard Alain on Apr 26, 2008 9:33:22 GMT -5
very nice Ivan, infused was an excellent choice, it works well with the intensity of the read
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Post by Ross McCague on Jul 29, 2008 20:53:20 GMT -5
This brings to mind Wallace Stevens. I don't know if you read Yankee poetry on the other side of the world. I like the matching of the mind with nature through the Imagination that you evoke here. The sea imagery is slightly different than the motherland, and all the more exotic for it. (http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15749)
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Post by Ivan Carswell on Jul 30, 2008 15:23:53 GMT -5
I see what you mean Ross. And thanks! I haven't spent any time with Wallace Stevens work but The Idea of Order at Key West has a resonance with my original experience of 44 years back. And The Piper Dreams was one of a number produced at that time. I am tempted to resurrect one or two others now!
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