The Eel, A revised 'oldy' of mine. Options

[Guest_Kathy_*]

I've decided to change its name.

Letting Go

On a shoulder shrugging sea
alone
I fished a high and narrow stream
dividing stone
and cried for forces that had cleft
a dream I couldn't hold.

From the water at my knee
I pulled an eel
black as shadow, silvered green,
his shining body strong. He fought with me,

he struggled wildly on the stone
and turned back constantly
determined to be free.

I stripped my blouse
and tied him tight within.
He pushed and writhed against my thigh
and wet my skin
all the while I hefted him
back home.

Far
from his deep and hidden place
he tried all night
to find the image in his head,

he slid across the grass,
he turned his body and his iron face
again, again,

in yearning for the lead-dark depth,
to lie
where he belonged.

I took him back at dawn.
He knew the way
across the stone.

The water shimmered,
sliver-skin
between two worlds,
his own beneath..

He slid.
A mirror opened, shivered.
He was gone.

.

[JaxMyth]

I like this very much Kathy.

Regards,

Jax

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Thank you kind sir.

[AMETHYST]

Hi Kathy,

I also like this very much. I've printed it out and will return after work tonight - I wanted to stop in to say I've been here and have read this a few times for pleasure!

Hugs, Liz

[Merlin]

Definitely something fishy about this one, Kathy.

I slipped and slithered along right nicely until you took your blouse off...
no, that wasn't why, but right here >>>
and wet my skin
all the while I hefted him
back home.

I want it to be >>>
and wet my skin
while I tried hefting him
and head back home.

I'm not sure if it's necessary to have the line breaks (white space) here - opinions will differ. >>>

Far
from his deep and hidden place
he tried all night
to find the image in his head,

he slid across the grass,
he turned his body and his iron face
again, again,

in yearning for the lead-dark depth,
to lie
where he belonged.


Far
from his deep and hidden place
he tried all night
to find the image in his head;
he slid across the grass;
he turned his body and his iron face
again, again,
in yearning for the lead-dark depth,
to lie
where he belonged.

Great story.

Merlin

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Definitely something fishy about this one, Kathy.

I slipped and slithered along right nicely until you took your blouse off...
no, that wasn't why, but right here >>>
and wet my skin
all the while I hefted him
back home.

I want it to be >>>
and wet my skin
while I tried hefting him
and head back home.

I'm not sure if it's necessary to have the line breaks (white space) here - opinions will differ. >>>

Far
from his deep and hidden place
he tried all night
to find the image in his head,

he slid across the grass,
he turned his body and his iron face
again, again,

in yearning for the lead-dark depth,
to lie
where he belonged.


Far
from his deep and hidden place
he tried all night
to find the image in his head;
he slid across the grass;
he turned his body and his iron face
again, again,
in yearning for the lead-dark depth,
to lie
where he belonged.

Great story.

Merlin

AH. Thank you Merlin. I will think about that, especially the semicolons.

Hahahahahaha about the blouse! Yes, well I did the same thing to collect mushrooms from a field in an emergency situation, once. A bra is the same as a bikini top, isn't it? A few people honked before I got back to the safety of the car though. Well, it was years ago.

So was the eel. .


Thanks for reading an all.

K

[AMETHYST]

Hi Kathy,

This is beautiful, if one can ever say an eel is beautiful- the images provide a new view of an eel for me. Some thoughts to follow - I enjoyed the inner rhymes, the steady flow and the metaphorical intentions...

(Lauren my grandaughter is crying, let me check her and I will be back in a bit with some thoughts)

Hugs, Liz

The Eel.

On a shoulder shrugging sea
alone
I fished a high and narrow stream
dividing stone
and cried for forces that had cleft
a dream I couldn’t hold.


From the water at my knee
I pulled an eel
black as shadow, silvered green,
his shining body strong. He fought with me,

he struggled wildly on the stone
and turned back constantly
determined to be free.

I stripped my blouse
and tied him tight within.
He pushed and writhed against my thigh
and wet my skin
all the while I hefted him
back home.

Far
from his deep and hidden place
he tried all night
to find the image in his head,

he slid across the grass,
he turned his body and his iron face
again, again,

in yearning for the lead-dark depth,
to lie
where he belonged.

I took him back at dawn.
He knew the way
across the stone.

The water shimmered,
sliver-skin
between two worlds,
his own beneath..

He slid.
A mirror opened, shivered.
He was gone.

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Thanks Liz. You noticed the things that mean the most to me, and that is plenty.

[jgdittier]

Dear Kathy,
As R&M driven, a beatnik re cadence, I'm surprising myself that I'm reading about an eel in fv.
I pass it to fate, but I also will state, (that's why I'm R&M) that in this case the message trumps all the rest. I know you love birds and I believe you love all animal life and I believe you've filled your poem with such a message.
Eels are not pretty and eels don't make nice pets and eels are icky but after all eels are human!
My mother once caught some eligally eeling with a light and cooked them for us. I never saw it but she said they wiggle quite a while in the frying pan. I think they tasted pretty good.
Write on!
Cheers, ron jgd

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Dear Kathy,
As R&M driven, a beatnik re cadence, I'm surprising myself that I'm reading about an eel in fv.
I pass it to fate, but I also will state, (that's why I'm R&M) that in this case the message trumps all the rest. I know you love birds and I believe you love all animal life and I believe you've filled your poem with such a message.
Eels are not pretty and eels don't make nice pets and eels are icky but after all eels are human!
My mother once caught some eligally eeling with a light and cooked them for us. I never saw it but she said they wiggle quite a while in the frying pan. I think they tasted pretty good.
Write on!
Cheers, ron jgd

Hi jg, You and me both, as folks say around here. Well, you know about my R&M connection. But I have always written FV too.

There are all kinds of free verse, and this one is heavily influenced by R&M. The rhythm o' it is a big factor for me. It also contains assonance and random rhymes. All my FV from that time did, and I'm revising them now, thanks to the people here, who are so encouraging.


When assonance and random rhyme
combine within
the gentle flow of speech,
there’s a whispered unity that seems
to me
entirely poetry.

Yes you are right about my love for all living things. Especially wild ones. But you are probably remembering Jude re the birds. She was a real expert. But I do love birds.

You are right about the message! There was a lot to admire about that eel. He taught me about belonging and letting go, and showed me how much he wanted to live. He never gave up. Yes, eels are human.
In this case, he taught me about responsibility and inspired my compassion so that I reversed my decision to take his life. Even though there were things over which I had no control, I could act to change other things. And I did.

They are good to eat too. I quite believe the bit about wiggling in the pan. Eeeee. How awful! They take a long time to die. The eel in my poem stayed alive, out of water, all night. I've been told that they die at sunset, but this is not the case. They can live in the air for days, apparently.

[AMETHYST]

Hi Kathy,

Sorry about that - I had layed down w/Lauren and I fell asleep (isn't that always the way) There isn't much to nit about this so I will go through pointing out what I like and what does work!

Hugs, Liz

Letting Go

On a shoulder shrugging sea
alone
I fished a high and narrow stream
dividing stone
and cried for forces that had cleft
a dream I couldn't hold.

There is a tone of 'need' here. A good active feeling in the opening stanza. It leaves the impression that the narrator is, in a way, desparate. L2, the word alone, left on the line alone seems to enhance the solitude that the narrator/dreamer feels-perhaps not just loneliness and aloneness. In L5, cried seemed weak to the intensity that the image brings to mind. Perhaps 'craved' begged, or maybe -
and cadgered forced

Not a big nit and just leaving suggestions to mull about!


From the water at my knee
I pulled an eel
black as shadow, silvered green,
his shining body strong. He fought with me,

Strong images. Loved 'black as shadow, silvered green,'

he struggled wildly on the stone
and turned back constantly
determined to be free.

The inner rhymes bounce off each other leaving such a melodical tone through out. I especially like way you play with sounds... "stone/turned DEtermined/FREE/constantLY all work well and further on the sounds dance well with each other. A wonderful handle on sonics and blending sounds to create an atmosphere! Wonderful work!

I stripped my blouse
and tied him tight within.
He pushed and writhed against my thigh
and wet my skin
all the while I hefted him
back home.

Freud Would say this is a sexual dream! LOL Actually every dream to him was a sexual metaphors! LOL ...

Far
from his deep and hidden place
he tried all night
to find the image in his head,

he slid across the grass,
he turned his body and his iron face
again, again,

Excellent.

in yearning for the lead-dark depth,
to lie
where he belonged.

I took him back at dawn.
He knew the way
across the stone.


I love the return to the stone image, with the turn about in image. Again, such crisp images and wonderful use of inner rhymes and sounds.

The water shimmered,
sliver-skin
between two worlds,
his own beneath..

He slid.
A mirror opened, shivered.
He was gone.


Excellent ending. I felt the dream effects through out are masterfully painted.

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Ah Liz, you make me feel so good, not just because you are so complimentary, but because you 'get' everything I tried to do in this poem. It has taken years to get it to this form and the fact that you 'see' what I'm trying to do is just so affirming.

The 'assonance and random rhyme' phase, begun several years ago, has remained with me, though perhaps its not so pronounced these days. Not that there IS any now. We'll see when new ones start to come, eh?

It's really good to do these reviews. I'm getting back in touch with my own history, and editing poems like a big sister to myself. Odd. Something is bound to come of it.

This eel thing actually happened, when I was about 12. I remember him with a great deal of fondness.

Thanks, Liz.

.

[AMETHYST]

You truly write well and I enjoyed this much!

Always remember we are where we are supposed to be ... think it and it will come to you ...

Hugs, Liz ...

I'm off to work but will be returning later on!