Constantinople - Writers Forum

Pawn · 10-09-2005, 01:37 AM

High, wailing, singing morning to dusk,
meditatively bitter, watching water into rust.
Sons, all sons, submitting into evening,
admitting, perhaps: tradition is unyielding.
From father's loins to father's hands,
smoked to prideful kneeling. They,
we, come ever to father's needing.

Etched, gold-leaf upon the bone:
Most holy vaneer! Timeless.
Read ancient, potent, prone.
Manicured, water to blood, eroded,
weathered, stone; pox on atheism,
on apathy, on sinful neo-Rome.
Arsnic-acrid antiquity,
recitations from God's own tome.

Istanbul '05

**Penelope** · 10-09-2005, 02:48 AM

An intriguing city with a diverse past. Wasn't it once the heart of the Roman Catholic church? I really like how you've woven the words into a magic carpet ride to the essence of antiquity. Beginning with the noise set the scene for me. You present a dichotomy with elegant flare. The joys of traveling into ancient, yet alien, sights and sounds and the impressions they make comes across well here. There is a hint of disdain in this poem which marks it with your tattoo. I'd have rather read less of that and more of the foreign flavour but we all have our own reactions and reflections.

Rico · 10-09-2005, 05:57 AM

I haven't been in that part of the world for quite some time, but from what I remember, you captured it wonderfully.

Quote:

Sons, all sons, submitting into evening,
admitting, perhaps: tradition is unyielding.
From father's loins to father's hands,
smoked to prideful kneeling

So sickeningly true.

And just an observation. Was there a rhyme scheme in here, because in the second stanza you have bone/prone, and Rome/tome, and in the first stanza you have dusk/rust and evening/unyielding. If that was some intentional pattern, I fail to see it and beg an explanation, and if not, I think it just makes the poem read strangely.

10-09-2005, 02:14 PM

...trying to understand why you thought i wouldn't like this. le sigh...

admittedly, i would like to read the original for comparison.

i am continually impressed with the control in your writing, though, the restraint and eloquence.

your voice is strong in this.

sometimes it feels like numbers.

it's so you.

but *heavy sigh* i will have to admit that i'm very impressed by this one. and maybe, even, possibly, slightly, the teeniest-tiniest bit jealous.

on second thought, naw, i wouldn't go that far.

jen

Pawn · 10-09-2005, 07:17 PM

Pen - Indeed, the Hagia Sofia is an incredible building. Throughout its centuries of history (it was built in the year 532), it's been at different times a Cathedral and Mosque. The result, still dominating the skyline, is a crazy mixture of faiths, sporting both enormous hebrew characters (in gold) and mosaics in the image of Christ. I don't know whether this came across, but the noise I opened with was the bizarre, regular singing of the daily prayers, sent out by loudspeaker from the Mosques, calling the believers to service. I wish I had dwelt more deeply upon the vibrant sensory experiences of Istanbul, yet here in my journal I find the piece of cultural analysis above. It feels to me something of a cold momento from such a staggering city.

Rico - the rhyme scheme changes almost constantly, but exists far more fully formed than you've mentioned. We have the more-than-half-rhyme 'dusk/rust' in the first two lines, followed by 'evening/unyielding' and the internal 'submitting/admitting'. 'Kneeling' and 'needing' finish the first stanza. Meter changes pace in the second verse, but contains a similar population of rhyme.

Jen - I was unsure whether you'd like this because of the extent to which it departs from my usual work. Here I write not about a few minutes, nor people nor emotions, but very definitely about a culture and a place which many of my readers will never have seen. It is not my preferred style of work, but I did find it an interesting poem to write. As I've already said, the page that holds this poem is filled with crossings-out and the like, which is a stark contrast to the slow, perfectly formed lettering of my other handwritten work.

Thanks for your time, all.

kryar · 10-09-2005, 07:23 PM

Pawn,

I like this one a lot. You know how much I respect your work. My only question is your line "watching water into rust" Where does that piece of imagery come from? I really enjoyed visiting Turkey, walking through the open markets and drinking turkish coffee. You've truly captured the feeling, the antiquities of that part of the world. I like the way that you keep it choppy. It's not often that a poem so choppy can mean so much. Most people fail horribly at pairing down their poems, but you do a great job.

Thanks.
Santiago

Pawn · 10-09-2005, 07:37 PM

Good to see you around the forums again, Santiago. The 'watching water into rust' came, in a roundabout way, from watching the Turkish old men who seem to make it their life's work to sit on street corners and partake of endless cups of Turkish tea, coffee and cigarettes. They barely seemed to notice the passing of mere backpackers like ourselves, and from this I felt a sense of their observation as on an enormous timescale. For me, economy of words is a huge factor, and one that I beat myself with repeatedly whenever I write. Glad you enjoyed it.

dannyboy · 10-09-2005, 08:49 PM

part of me likes this, part of me dislikes this poem and I have been trying all this time since you first posted it to work out why and I cannot. Somehow I get all excited while reading it and then i don't. Sorry this is no help at all but i wanted you to know i had read this several times. It is not often I do not know what to say but I don't.

salvothasock · 10-10-2005, 12:38 AM

pawn
very nice, very refreshing. a lot of care went into this, as usual it seems. as i've been keeping up to date with your postings, oh yes. a good view from across the pond.
andy

kryar · 10-10-2005, 05:36 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Pawn

Good to see you around the forums again, Santiago. The 'watching water into rust' came, in a roundabout way, from watching the Turkish old men who seem to make it their life's work to sit on street corners and partake of endless cups of Turkish tea, coffee and cigarettes. They barely seemed to notice the passing of mere backpackers like ourselves, and from this I felt a sense of their observation as on an enormous timescale. For me, economy of words is a huge factor, and one that I beat myself with repeatedly whenever I write. Glad you enjoyed it.

I understand what you mean by beating yourself with an economy of words. I, fortunately, never have to do so, because all of my poems are more than wordy enough. I enjoyed coming back to this post. Thanks for the explanation. Now it rings in my head.

santiago

**Penelope** · 10-10-2005, 01:03 PM

Pawn - I read your explanation of rust and had to let you know that I read sunset into it which took me to time as each day slips into another. I liked the idea of rusty sunsets - almost like dust to dust.

Pawn · 10-10-2005, 01:45 PM

Often, methinks, the readers are the true poets.

10-10-2005, 04:54 PM

Quote:

As I've already said, the page that holds this poem is filled with crossings-out and the like, which is a stark contrast to the slow, perfectly formed lettering of my other handwritten work.

*so rolling eyes*

i don't think this is so much a departure from your other writing as you may think, crossings out or not.

regardless, i stand by my original statement that i do indeed like it. and i think you do too.

by the way, did you edit it again?

jen

Pawn · 10-10-2005, 06:43 PM

Well, if you like it despite my best efforts to the contrary, then I will content myself with taking the compliment.

danny - I'm pleased to have illicited an unusual reaction. I almost prefer that to a confession of love. Almost.

Nice to hear from you also, Andy. It's nice to know that you're keeping an eye on me. Wouldn't want to go astray, eh?

...Anyone ever noticed that there's only a one letter difference between astray and ashtray?