Carol From an Island Without Trees
These are tunes of empty weather,
the sky too much a brawl
for wing and feather, rain
to corrode the vestiges of summer,
the Atlantic ransacking all.
Sing of a loveless island swept
by unlovely weather,
shoreline of grey and ochre where
one seabird sprawls and slides
from citadel to citadel of gale.
Weather for beak and claw,
not wing and feather,
that gongs in sea-caves,
raves of the ended summer
and nothing done, and this
is the end of singing weather.
Then the song, like wing and summer,
like love and feather, is gone.
Then the song, like wing and summer,
ReplyDeletelike love and feather, is gone.
Makes me want to burst into song to compensate, but loved the feeling of riding on wings of the wind - a real stormy petrel.
On a personal level, the sadness of summer ended translates into the loss of youth - are you disguising your 200 year old longing, Doc?
It's a haunting poem, either way.
Your interpretation is perfectly valid, Jinksy! The poem has only an existence on the page. Readers invest it with meaning which will be conditioned by their life experiences.
ReplyDeleteA much quoted example of this idea is the last line of Dylan Thomas's "Refusal to Mourn"
What does his line mean . . . ?
"After the first death, there is no other."
In Refusal to Mourn I take it as meaning the memory of life remains after the death in this world, but also that it allows for the continuation of life of the ongoing soul or spirit in another dimension. But I'd be more interested in what the poem meant to you, because of your life experiences. Shouldn't a poet at least attempt to get his own interpretation across to the reader? Otherwise all poetry is impersonal, and could be construed as having been written with no feeling, or with feelings hidden from view by a poet in hiding. Heard an interesting, similar discussion a while back on Poetry Please, but don't remember their conclusions. Drat old age and memory malfunction!
ReplyDelete"Shouldn't a poet at least attempt to get his own interpretation across to the reader?"
ReplyDeleteThey sometimes do! They sometimes succeed so well that they end up with trash like "Daffodils"
(FTSE runs for cover!)
It might sound simplistic, or that I have nothing better to say, but this is a lovely, evocative, melancholy piece of writing.
ReplyDeleteThe reason I don't read poetry (I think) is that it requires some thought to interpret (because I'm lazy) and because it's over so soon (I've just contradicted myself).
You play with words, and use them in unconventional ways. I admire that. Behind that ability is an agility of mind. It's something I try to do in my fiction writing but am not very successful at.
As I re-read this, I'm struck by the evocation of fierce weather with a single word like 'brawl', which is quite untypical as a descriptor for a natural phenomenon. And the line 'one seabird sprawls and glides from citadel to citadel of gale' is brilliant. In my humble opinion.
Oh dear, am I getting too analytical? And ruining it?
I can't help it - I love the breaking out of words from their usual contexts.
I'm glad you invited me here.
Deborah. Thank you for these thoughts.
ReplyDeleteThe "citadels" started life as "pinnacles". Over to you . . .
Brawl? I pinched it from a line(*) I remember from yonks ago . .
"The way the Moon strays through a brawl of cloud
And stares until the sky is clean and clear . . . "
(*)William Price Turner . . who no-one has ever heard of, more's the pity, in a poem called "A Tramp Looks Back" William (Bill) convinced me that words don't have meanings other than the "meaning" which the reader - not the writer - invests them with. And in this context, I notice you say "their usual contexts" not "their usual meanings"
Where does one find your fiction?
Everybody pinches something from somewhere - it's an impossibility to be absolutely unique in use of language, I think.
ReplyDeleteInteresting thought from WP Turner - I like it! And my fiction is only to be found on my hard drive; I'm not a published author like you. You're rather polyvalent, aren't you? Not so typical that both sides of your brain operate with equal facility. Both mathematical and creative - quite intriguing!