All Comments on 'Dried Summer Grass'

A very truthful and brave comment on human life.

You really said it all in a few lines!

I did not find it pessimistic either.

Beautiful imagery and use of metaphor.

5ed.

This is intriguing, Cleardaynow. I'm fascinated by the paradox of ashes dancing as eddies in the wind, which I interpret to be spiritual mystery unless you're referring to memories of past loves(Flames burn fierce.....) but if it's the latter I think you will have stretched the metaphors a bit too much.

"remain" doesn't need a comma after it, which raises a point. All the lines stopped too abruptly for me. I think that's because each end word finished with a strong emphasis on the last syllable. In and of itself, there's nothing terribly wrong with that in my opinion, but I think the brain responds better when there is variation within a pattern, even in a short poem such as this is. I might have changed the next to last line's ending to "sit softly" for such an effect. In that way, the pace is picked up a little with the sonic emphasis on "In" beginning the next line. Along with "will remain/that" you now have 2 lines out of 8 where the sonic pattern has changed just a little: again variation within a pattern. Maybe that's only in my mind, but when I recite your poem with those changes it sounds better to me.

The near rhymes of "mind....." and "mind" give it a nice concluding affect.

I enjoyed the poem and will mention it in "New Poem Recommendations" in the "Poetry Feedback & Discussion" threads

Green Mountaineers comments, since he covered more succinctly every thing I was thinking on this piece,

I might drop some words here and there and re arrange, but I feel that is more a reflection of my own way of writing, if this shuffle and edit doesn't please you then say so or delete the post, I have marked it a 5 because of the metaphoric use of life and a description that covers life's inevitable conclusion without getting sappy lol.

a basic re-write as an idea, not meant to condescend in any way shape or form

Lives are made of tinder, of dried summer grass.

fires once lit swiftly consume,

Flames burn fierce, only ashes remain

to dance and make eddies in the wind,

Painting pictures that appear and disappear,

images that hold the mind.

And we,

surprised that we survive, softly sit

In the pale morning,

waiting for a sign.

hope this does not offend, if it does feel free to delete :)

A very elegant expression of the contrast between permanence and transience.

First of all my thanks to Pelegrino, Oneiria, Todski and Greenmountaineer for their comments. A particular thank you to Todski & Greenmountaineer for their detailed and enormously constructive advice. Far from resenting them I am absolutely thrilled with them.

This poem, like most I have entered, was written a long time ago (‘ Letter’ & ‘Spiced Lamb’ are new) at a time of great turmoil for me. I had fallen deeply & hopelessly for a girl (‘Hands’) & in the aftermath wrote this. I showed her ‘Dried Summer Grass’, she liked it and we became friends for some time (but no more). She was an extremely gifted artist and I still have several of her pictures on the wall. There were other issues in my life then that I had no way of resolving – as I was missing a vital piece of information. The result, as about the only way I had of dealing with it all, was a number of poems - many of which, like this one, still have a lot of emotion attached for me.

So it has been hard for me to stand back from them. Actually, to be truthful, I find it hard to stand back from the new ones too. So, like I said, I really appreciate the assessment and advice.

So in response. Greenmountaineer, I found your comment on the stress on the endings an immensely useful insight. I agree it is better with ‘sit softly’ & if I ever showed it again would incorporate that change & the dropped comma. Todski. I think I prefer your breaking down of the lines and some of the reductions.

But (a dreadful word) I think dropping ‘The’ before fires suggest ‘Lives are made of tinder which means occasionally you might get fires’ whereas what I think I was trying to say with the very definite article was ‘lives are made of tinder and you bloody well get fires’. The word ‘blind’ is critical to what I was trying to describe and ‘strange’ also.

So what I was trying to say was that when something like this hits you – you go mad, it blinds you and afterwards everything is shaken up and lots of strange ideas come to you as you struggle unsuccessfully to come to terms with it all. Having started the metaphor, I tried to make it work and be real in its own right – so I have no precise significance for ashes, eddies etc. The ‘sitting in the pale morning’ came from one morning after I had been on an all night patrol in South Armagh some years before - and I was sitting and it was a very pale morning. What exactly the connection is I am unsure but that does tie into some of the other issues I mentioned. ‘Waiting for a sign’ – the words just came and they still make me shiver.

I hugely value the comments, even where not agreed with, in making me think and see the poem afresh – I was too close. Again, thank you very much.

Clear, sad, but even a bit hopeful. I wondered at the tragedy until I read your comments - then it hit home and I felt your pain. The ashes in the wind painting pictures - yes, perfect - but the surprise at surviving even more so. Excellent

and very inspirational because of the imagery :)

blew my mind away ! Excellent work , thnx for sharin' & 5-ed !