this little boy by 180 Proof

Good poem. I respect the aim of the author to keep metrics, rhymes and jingles. It is well written, but I missed more imagination in the stanzas.

Quoting Caldwell

the hungry years gnaw quietly on cold bones wise with baby marrow

Brilliant imagery; the faster we mature, the faster we age, no matter at what age we are at.Quoting Caldwell

of entangled roots holding fast against sudden gales and fires and sawteeth

Life is resplendent with dangers, life-threatening dangersQuoting Caldwell

s this why old folks sleep as shallow as the grave

well this little boy still dreams he is free

The farther we feel we are from death, the less fearful, less restricted we live our lives.

This is a cerebral poem, a bit of a puzzle to put together, and it taxes the intellect of the reader just the right amount. I like it.

I felt am itch to make the slightest improvements, which I only get when I think it's really good and just needs some dotting i's. Really enjoyable.

Quoting Benkei

I felt am itch to make the slightest improvements, which I only get when I think it's really good and just needs some dotting i's. Really enjoyable.

Seconded.

I'm not sure what this is on about, but I like this sort of free verse that almost feels like a stream of consciousness.

This poem really grew on me. On first reading it came across as a bit of fluff, but after a few more goes at it, it seemed to come alive. I think it is very simple, but it really works well.

this little boy

With no capitals. Is that a stylistic choice in keeping with being free from tradition? Or was the writer just too damned tired to be bothered.

Quoting Caldwell

yesterday y'know came went so fast
but tomorrow seems to stand still

My fingers itch to capitalise yesterday, the first word. The title of a popular song by you know who.
The poet is speaking to us: 'y'know' as if we are on the same page. Looking back from a certain old age.
Or just to himself - a younger version? Reflecting.

The varying speeds of time. A mystery. Tomorrow might seem to stand still because today is so long and never-ending. There can be a weariness of waiting for an inevitable future. Or something...

A single stand-out line:
Quoting Caldwell

the hungry years gnaw quietly on cold bones wise with baby marrow

As yet no rhythm and that's fine. This line is a puzzle to chew over. Do we need to know what it means, does it need to make sense... or can we just feel it? The early years bursting with curiosity, the need to discover Life, the Universe and Everything. a little boy with Big Capital Questions.
Still ruminating, but slower with the patience of wisdom gleaned from stripping the big to the basics.
Still the necessary function of the marrow; vital renewal of blood cells.
Has there been a marrow transplant?
Or is it simply a way of saying that the boy will always be in the man?

Quoting Caldwell

but this little boy still dreams he is a tree
because he won't ever really be
tall enough to hold up the sky
crowned with wet leaves and busy nests
singing chanties in chthonic tongues
of entangled roots holding fast against sudden gales and fires and sawteeth

Even as we grow, we can keep hold of our childlike dreams.
Imagination continues of heights to be reached, unreached or unreachable.
Even as we know the constraints, we can sing like the birds in the trees, freedom.

Chthonic tongues - the language of the ancients in, under or beneath the earth.
What holds us together amidst life and its trials?
Enchanting stories or shanties of sailors on life's ocean. We are but waves but necessary.

Quoting Caldwell

is this why old folks sleep as shallow as the grave

another question. is it a small or a big one?
Or a mid one, pondering the seeming lack of need for sleep in the elderly?
No more deep sleeps or dreams.

Quoting Caldwell

well this little boy still dreams he is free

A rebellious tone. He's not ready to be old he is young at heart and in mind.
Living above in the light with still room to grow.

***

I love that this is a poem flowing free. Giving space for puzzling thoughts.
Almost a 'to hell with it' outpouring.
Take me as I come. Think what you like...
:sparkle:

Reply to Benkei Reply to Baden
So what improvements would you make?

Reply to Amity

I like it more the more I read it, so I'm loathe to suggest changing anything, but I kind of feel the last line is not as strong as the rest. The writer is a real poet anyhow, so respect.

Reply to Baden I have no such compunction but then I'm an arrogant little shit.

Reply to Amity

This Little Boy

Yesterday y'know, came and went so fast
yet tomorrow [s]seems to[/s] stands serene.*
The hungry years gnaw quietly
on cold bones wise with baby marrow.

But this little boy still dreams he is a tree,
[i]for he'll never be tall enough to hold
the sky crowned[/i]+ with wet leaves and busy nests,
singing chanties in chthonic tongues
of entangled roots holding fast against
sudden gales and fires and sawteeth.

Is this why old folks' sleep is shallow as the grave?
Well, this little boy still dreams of autumn gold.^

*Trying to match meter, not necessarily the best adjustment in the few minutes I'm spending on it now, but I don't think this needs "seems to". The poem is already one big allegory so it's redundant.
+I like having "the sky" on the next line with "crowned" having the verb and subject together and this resulted in a bit of rewrite.
^ a bit of symbolism combined with that same tree in autumn. Autumn Gold is a species of elm, which is associated with the Liberty Tree.
The rest is punctuation and capitalisation.

Reply to Baden Thanks :up:

Quoting Benkei

*Trying to match meter, not necessarily the best adjustment in the few minutes I'm spending on it now, but I don't think this needs "seems to". The poem is already one big allegory so it's redundant.

I don't know much about poetry or its various rules. So, I appreciate your quick adjustments - perhaps not always improvements, as you say.
Why is it so important to 'match the meter'? And if you supply the word 'serene' to replace 'still' does it reflect the poet's meaning or feeling of 'still'? I don't know but I think it might matter to the poet.

Quoting Benkei

+I like having "the sky" on the next line with "crowned" having the verb and subject together and this resulted in a bit of rewrite.

Is it the sky that is crowned, or the tree? I think it the tree.

Your re-write misses out the 'really be'. The difference between the hard reality of existing as he is, and the dream of what he can be.

Quoting Benkei

^ a bit of symbolism combined with that same tree in autumn. Autumn Gold is a species of elm, which is associated with the Liberty Tree.

OK. It's a bit of a convoluted stretch but at least that species is resistant to Dutch elm disease.
Or so I read.

Interesting that you and Baden both think the last line is weak.
Quoting Caldwell

well this little boy still dreams he is free

I had thought it rebellious but I've looked again.
Perhaps it sounds weak because there is a weary push-back against oppressive constraints.
He can only dream of being free. 'Autumn gold' doesn't cut it. Too complex for a simple sigh of longing.

That is the reason, I think, behind the lowercase and lack of punctuation.
The poet is in control. He is free to think and be what he likes. Or just plain tired...

I've enjoyed the poem and the discussion!

Reply to Benkei For me the original and its lack of capitalization reads much better, but, you know, "there's no accounting for taste".

Reply to Janus :up: Fair enough. Lack of punctuation hurts my eyes. :lol:

Reply to Benkei :up:

Reply to Baden Reply to Benkei
Any further comments on my response? Just curious...

Quoting Janus

For me the original and its lack of capitalization reads much better, but, you know, "there's no accounting for taste".

Yes, it can be about 'taste' but also how a person approaches and evaluates a poem.
There can be more focus on form, rules and technicalities compared to engaging with the sense and feelings expressed. For example, does the last line have to be 'strong' - or simply a weary fade-out...

Quoting Amity

Perhaps it sounds weak because there is a weary push-back against oppressive constraints.
He can only dream of being free. 'Autumn gold' doesn't cut it. Too complex for a simple sigh of longing.

Reply to Amity

Just that the last line seems a bit weaker to me because it's somewhat basic or possibly cliche compared to the rest of the poem rather than anything to do with the boy.

Reply to Baden
OK. I understand now, thanks :up:

Reply to Baden
Quoting Caldwell

well this little boy still dreams he is free

Quoting Caldwell

because he won't ever really be

Maybe there's a missing refrain. But then "free" of what? – yesterdays? aging? desires ("baby marrow")? – becoming?

the hungry years gnaw quietly on cold bones wise with baby marrow

I enjoyed it. But this line caught my eye first before anything else in the poem. And so, my mind literally thought of horror. I apologize -- but "cold bones","baby" and "marrow" in the same line works like a spine-tingling charm.

Quoting Caldwell

but this little boy still dreams he is a tree
because he won't ever really be
tall enough to hold up the sky
crowned with wet leaves and busy nests
singing chanties in chthonic tongues
of entangled roots holding fast against sudden gales and fires and sawteeth

This part I've quoted seems like a coherent, accessible poem by itself. The rest is very obscure. "Baby marrow" is gross and disturbing.

To all,

I made an edit to the last line, per request of the author. Please update your reading pleasure.

Reply to Caldwell Change it back. It was submitted after the deadline, so too bad. Otherwise I have several updates I can provide for my short story now I actually have time to proofread it.

Reply to Benkei
How do you know that? It might have been lost in transfer.
Unlikely that an edit was allowed simply for improvement.

Reply to Benkei Good point.

Reply to Caldwell
So why did you do it?

Reply to Amity Didn't think the way Benk did. I agree with him.

Changed it back to original.

I thought it fine the way it was anyway :smile:

Reply to Amity Same here.

Reply to Caldwell
I would've down-voted this poem with the shitty, heidegerian rhyme at the end. So I just saved his or her ass.

Quoting Benkei

I would've down-voted this poem with the shitty, heidegerian rhyme at the end. So I just saved his or her ass.

Ouch! :halo:

Hmmm, baby marrow seems a bit odd. But it does give the poem a dark mood. The last line is cliche, which is a pity. I also wonder, as a little boy I never dreamt I was free. Nowhere are you more constrained then as a kid.

The poem would work well as a lyric on a psychedelic album. It has a sense of mystery or even mysticism. I am supposing that the little boy is the author but I could be wrong. I like the rhythm, language, which make it vivid in imagery and its musing on the concept of time.

At first I liked it, and got the impression that it's a melancholy reflection on a child with terminal leukemia, his few hungry years gnawing him to death before he can grow tall, and he'll never get a chance to be rooted.
And the the sudden contradiction of the last line. A tree is the least free thing I can imagine.
Thud!

Reply to Tobias You must have had a very different childhood than I did. Or else you are speaking about a different aspect of constraint. My activities may have been more constrained when I was young, but not my imagination. My experience has been that the freedom of the imagination is suppressed by schooling and may only be regained later by conscious practice.

Reply to Benkei Why did you post this picture in this thread?

It's AI generated. The prompt was something like "a black, older man sitting beneath a tree watching his grandson play". Reading the poem it was as if an older man reflected on youth and the passing of time and I wanted a playing grandson there as he reflects on the freedom his grandson has. The tree is there for obvious reasons. It's a bit crude but I wanted a painting instead of a photographic style as I considered it more wistful when reading it. I posted pictures for each poem to reflect the mood it evoked with me. I have no inkling why it evoked black people for me, in case you're wondering. Did you like it or was it a distraction to you?

@javi2541997 @god must be atheist @Baden @Noble Dust @Janus @Caldwell @T Clark @Tobias @Jack Cummins @Vera Mont

Thanks very much to all who got something positive from reading my hurriedly scribbled poem. It's only a fragment of a much longer ramble about, I guess, frustration with writer's block and having nothing ready (or even partially written) on the morning of August 5th. I submitted only what I could salvage believing I couldn't write a complete story from scratch by the deadline (that afternoon PST). Honestly, I'm both embarrassed by "this little boy" and bemused at the responses it's received. Nonetheless, all of your comments are much appreciated. :cool:

Quoting Amity

Still the necessary function of the marrow; vital renewal of blood cells.
[s]Has there been a marrow transplant?[/s]
Or is it simply a way of saying that the boy will always be in the man?

Yes.

Quoting Amity

So what improvements would you make?

Funny you should ask ...

= = = = =

[i]yesterday y'know came went so fast
but tomorrow seems to stand still

the hungry years gnaw quietly on cold bones
____wise with baby marrow

but this little boy still dreams he is a tree
because he won't ever really be
tall enough to hold up the sky
crowned with wet leaves and busy nests
singing chanties in chthonic tongues
of entangled roots holding fast
____against sudden gales and fires and sawteeth

is this why old folks sleep as shallow as the grave

well this little boy still dreams he is free
because becoming
____he won't ever really be[/i]

= = = = =

This is how I had intended the poem (fragment) to appear but formatting and the last line/s were lost in copy-n-paste translation.

Reply to Benkei Crap. :lol:

Quoting Benkei

I would've down-voted this poem with the shitty, heidegerian rhyme at the end. So I just saved his or her ass.

Danke, Das Man! :smirk:

Reply to Benkei Well, since the author is Black, I'd wondered when you had posted if you'd known it was me ... but now I reread the poem and almost hear the voice of that AI-generated figure. Uncanny coincidence.

Reply to 180 Proof Jungian sychronicity!

Quoting 180 Proof

This is how I had intended the poem (fragment) to appear but formatting and the last line/s were lost in copy-n-paste translation.

At the risk of being scolded for commenting on a poem after the explanation has been provided by the author I just wanted to say this poem really grew on me. I like the atmosphere of both young and old, it is a kind of self reflection but going both ways, the old reflecting on te younger years but in a sense also the young reflecting on being old. It is a play of beginning and and end in dialogue, but opening each other up so to speak, hard to put into words but I really like it.

I also do like the rhyme at the end, but wonder if it can still be put more succinctly: "This little boy dreams". For me dreaming of being free does not work very well because dreaming is always dreaming about something your senses direct you towards, it is very image like, while being free is very abstract. But anyway I read and reread it and found it oddly calming in some way. Rather like the image that has been provided a calm and caring atmosphere even while the melancholy is very palpable as well.

Reply to Tobias :cool:

Reply to 180 Proof Yes. Excellent and well-deserved feedback.

Quoting Tobias

At the risk of being scolded for commenting on a poem after the explanation has been provided by the author I just wanted to say this poem really grew on me.

However, this (see underlined) was unnecessary, unhelpful and quite silly.
Anyone can comment at any time, as you very well know.
If it's a reference to a comment made in 'Sempre' then it's out of context; misunderstood and misapplied.
I won't comment further here. If you wish to PM, then there's that.