[Matt Q]

.
In the grandest chamber of my heart

In the grandest chamber of my heart
Veneer is flaking
Peeling from a golden throne

A woodworm chewing softly in the dark
Stops to poke its head out

Betrays all precious metal claims

The holes the woodworm leaves
Make nothing holy

Yet is even this not cause for hope?

That ersatz throne was bound to crumble

Something there is that is still growing
Something that wrests sustenance from decay

A larva swells to become a beetle
Transformation is still in play
.

[Joe Crocker]

Hi Matt

Life goes on, one way or another.

Here are some thoughts, some of them self-contradicting and easily ignorable.

S1. You move from a chamber of the heart to a regal chamber boasting a golden throne. I wondered whether a peeling “dome” might a better fit than “throne” for the image? It brings to mind gold onion domes of eastern orthodox churches. But you use “throne” again later on so maybe not

S2 I like the woodworm softly chewing in the dark (and the half-rhyme with “heart”) then taking a break from his labours to poke his head out for a bit of air (and a quick fag?) (Not sure how entomologically secure that observation is but realism is probably not a key concern).

S3 “Betrays all precious metal claims”. I can see that the woodworm is betraying the maker of the (false) claim. But “betrays” is often used in the sense of unintentionally giving away a secretly true thing. And the secret being given away here is that the throne is NOT metal. So perhaps the word should be something more like “subverts” “corrupts”.

S6. I wonder if a more concrete descriptor than “ersatz” (eg “timber”) would be better. But I guess you want the sense of artificial cheap substitute that “ersatz” conveys.

S5 and S7 are unnaturally convoluted. Eg S7 could more simply read

Something there still grows
Something wrests sustenance from decay.

But I guess the twisted construction is deliberate, perhaps following the winding wormholes.

S8 I always enjoy a rhyme to end on.

Cheers

Joe

[Jim Moonan]

.
It feels fragmented in both thought and form. The opening line is perfect iambic pentameter. The entire poem is maddeningly metrical but it feels lost inside the arrhythmia of the structure and never finds a form to live in. I’ve come to know you as being a poet who gives careful consideration to every aspect/nuance of your poems. Could it be that this needs more work? Is the poem itself poetic larva?

In my attempt to dissect/piece together the various touchstones of this poem — the heart, the grandest chamber of the heart, the throne, the woodworm, the unholy holes, the larva, the beetle — I looked at the word “larva” for clues. Its etymological origin is 17th century and “denotes a disembodied spirit or ghost”. It is also characterized by “immaturity” — a “yet to be” sense of becoming something. In this case the transformation is in the wake of entropy. It’s a confluence of imagery at work.

I don/t know what to think of the poem. The first line is beautiful but the rest never congeals. Is the poem itself going through a metamorphosis? I can’t help but think that maybe you intended that to be the effect.

L11&12: I did get an echo of Frost's opening line from "Mending Wall" (Something there is that doesn't love a wall)

Still, it feels like you haven’t fully expressed what is in your heart with this poem (pun). I tried for a while to make it be about love lost, but it doesn’t hold up.

I do sometimes think that we are in a constant larval state of being.


.

[James Midgley]

Hi Matt,

I find the voice in this and your poems recently in general to be charming and engaging -- which is no small thing (I'm a little envious).

The woodworm seems pretty friendly.

I feel like this one is still a little larval itself in places.

I'm not sure you need both 'flaking' and 'peeling'. 'Betrays all precious metal claims' sounds a bit circumlocutory and there is the confusion of 'betrays' being something close to an antonym.

The holes/holy pun is a tough one to get away with -- but I feel like you might when the rest of the poem comes together. I like the plain, direct question line.

I wonder if you need 'ersatz' if its artificiality has been established well enough by the prior lines. I want to like 'Something there is that is' but it trips me every time.

The last line isn't working for me yet -- it feels like a handwave. Even reversing the lines of the final couplet -- which I think would be better -- doesn't smooth it out enough for me.

I took the poem to be a kind of illustration of the concatenation and delineation of selves and ideas of self -- where do they reside in the body and consciousness, what is it we identify with, and how does that relate to mortality and decay (how do we privilege transformations)?

Thanks for the read.

[John Riley]

Matt, I've been reading this since you posted it. Poems about health, heart disease, are tough. I've written a couple about my CHF but don't like them very much. I like this one because it is angled in a way that toys with the topic until it's ambivalent. (Now, I'm wondering if it is about heart disease. It could be about love.) That is good.

My one quibble is the "golden throne." It is too obvious, generic. It's a place in the poem you could be more interesting and as slyly revealing as the rest of the poem. If you do that the "ersatz throne" can be cut as well.

These are my suggestions. I hope they are of some use.

[James Midgley]

Hi Matt,

Just popping by to say that, for whatever reason, I don't think my brain went all the way in connecting up the woodworm with a disease, rather than, say, the effects of transience and decay we're all subject to, or even just a less-than-ideal aspect of oneself -- maybe not so friendly after all. The connection seems like an easy one to make, now, after John's comment. Sometimes we miss the wood for the woodworm.