[Alexandra Baez]

Originally Posted by John Riley

Thanks, A. (I apologize for forgetting your first name) I will look at the things you mentioned. I guess you don't think of this as old-fashioned but it is as regards the poems I usually write. That is what I measured it against.

As regards the "clunky meter" there is no meter. None intentioned anyway. It is accentual. I worked on counting the beats with no regard for syllable count. That makes it "clunky" by design.

Thanks again for your suggestions. I'm sure I will apply them.

John

It's Alexandra. If I'd known that algorithms are blocked from picking up usernames on this forum, I would have chosen my full name.

Okay, I looked over your poem and to my ear, there are lines with a range of numbers of accented syllables each. More clear-cut accentual meter is less clunky and has more of a feeling of underlying order.

And certainly, you can see the difference between the style and feel of your poem and of the example I provided? To me, this demonstrates the gap between true "old-fashioned" and your "old-fashioned" as applied to this theme. It's pretty wide, but I'll try to appreciate that it felt like a stretch for you to go even as far as you did.

You're welcome for the suggestions.

Originally Posted by Carl Copeland

Thanks for those, Alexandra. We’ll soon have a fine spring-bashing anthology. I think it is the fools who ignore the wavering snow banks. If “we” ignored them, we wouldn’t wonder if the mound might disappear. I took the “wavering” banks and transparent whiteness as a moment of frozen beauty the fools can’t appreciate, though melting is also a tempting interpretation.

You're welcome! It's a topic that's interested me for a long time, as I tend to think slant myself. I suspect there is quite a bit more material of this sort out there. True on "we." As to your interpretation, oh, I never would have thought that, because to me, "wavering" so strongly connotes the brink of defeat--and melting connotes it even more, no? Oh dear, two instances in one day in which we have not agreed on something!

[Carl Copeland]

Originally Posted by A. Baez

… to my ear, there are lines with a range of numbers of accented syllables each.

I don’t think John cares too much for these quibbles, but by my count about half the lines in the quatrains have an ambiguous number of beats: four if you read them right, but three or five often seem more natural. The couplet is apparently intended to have five-beat lines.

Originally Posted by A. Baez

As to your interpretation, oh, I never would have thought that, because to me, "wavering" so strongly connotes the brink of defeat--and melting connotes it even more, no?

I’m conveniently suspending judgment about what the snowbanks are wavering between and treating it as a frozen moment. You’re thinking further than I am, and you may be right.

[John Riley]

You’re right, Carl. I can’t gather enough concern about the intricacies of meter to post my poems on this board. I care about rhythm and music in poetry but that is different than a focus on meter. Or I should say isn’t limited to meter. I shouldn’t have posted this here because I didn’t take enough time to make certain it belonged here. My apologies. It’s best to let it fall asap.

Thanks

[Tony Barnstone]

I agree with the others: very accomplished. I liked the "bouncing birds" because it referenced for me (perhaps not others) James Wright's second of “Two Hangovers:”

In a pine tree,
A few yards away from my window sill,
A brilliant blue jay is springing up and down, up and down,
On a branch.
I laugh, as I see him abandon himself
To entire delight, for he knows as well as I do
That the branch will not break.

I am a bit worried about those of the cold having a fire of anger and a glow, seeming like your cold/hot, snow/sun metaphors are mixing up.

This is lovely:

how the fools cheer the death of winter,
ignoring how the snow banks waver

when the tilted sun fulfills
its slipping duty and casts wide shadows
on the far side of the mound so white
we walkers wonder if it might disappear.

The ending feels jammed in for the rhyme, to me. If we are feeling hot sun and wind, where is the spring rain coming from in this scene?

Now we must feel hot sun and wind, and disdain
for the people laughing and twirling in the spring rain.

I like the idea, but feel the image/scene needs more precision.

Good stuff here, strong possibilities.

Best, Tony

[John Riley]

Thanks, Tony. I appreciate the notes and will keep them for revision.