[Jeffrey]

The Fox & the Otter

after Aesop & successors

Any place which the sole of your feet treads on is yours.
Your border is from the wilderness to Lebanon,
from the river, the river Euphrates unto the last sea.

- Deuteronomy

I watched you crack your resolve
against those river-swept rocks,
on your back in the cold flood.
Hot blood rose in this old fox.

........So I parceled out your due,
........calling out through wine-stained teeth,
........(from the grapes of the vineyard,
........& time spent resting beneath).

The gap affixed runs so deep:
you are so soft, so composed,
while I drown gingerbread men,
or flatter all those old crows.

........Deep breaths take you down once more
........while I pace upon the shore.

[guitarczar]

Since I'm in the critiquing mode, and it's way past even considering the thought of some decent sleep, I think I'll take a crack at this (perhaps my resolve then?). Before you take that as anything less than kind (and no allusion to kin--unless the brotherhood of poetry), what I mean to say is that in the perfect world, I approach your poems like I am writing a paper. It is always my desire that the end product will be engaging and well-thought out, though the results (on my end) are often less than satisfactory--even without the time constraints!

But as I have to begin to end, I will go about embarking, even if I leave a heavy footprint and ruin the scenery.

First, let me say that when I saw the title of this poem, I delighted in my heart: it is enjoyable to see you proffer some light fare, and the further usage of Aesop's fables brought back childhood memories, or at least prepubescent ones (an odd way of marking time, but I know it was before I was a teenager). Of course, the Deuteronomy reference is nice, but as that is a staple in almost all of your poems, I will proceed to the stanzas. Also, as I am looking to retire to my Ikea "student-approved" bed within the hour, I will make this brief, and simply comment on a couple parts. As the poem is a short, a short critique is probably fitting.

Originally Posted by Jeffrey

I watched you crack your resolve
against those river-swept rocks,
on your back in the cold flood.
Hot blood rose in this old fox.

A well-crafted stanza. I particularly like the contrast between "cold" and "hot" and the additional rhyming of "flood" and "blood." That these two techniques are coupled together--"cold flood" and "hot blood," shows, as you said of one my poems, "remarkable foresight."

Originally Posted by Jeffrey

........So I parceled out your due,
........calling out through wine-stained teeth,
........(from the grapes of the vineyard,
........& time spent resting beneath).

Here, I struggled a bit with the second line, as the "wine-stained teeth" seemed to call up a distinctly human image. I imagine that your poem works on several levels: it seems quite apparent that the whole "fox/otter" thing could be analogous to "man/woman," and I am almost certain that that is part of your intent. Even with that other layer, however, it still seems that the hints should remain solely for the reader to parallel to the romantic relationships we men undertake, with a bit of the predator coming out in us every once and a while. I think that replacing "calling" with "whistling" might work better. Here, you may object, that whistling brings the association even closer. However, we are already aware of the fox's insidious intent. "Calling out" seems as if the fox is trying to save the otter, "Whistling through" indicates that the fox is trying to lure her. Of course, you may have over reasons for leaving it as such, but it is something to mull over (perhaps while you take in the fruits of your labor? ).

Originally Posted by Jeffrey

The gap affixed runs so deep:
you are so soft, so composed,
while I drown gingerbread men,
or flatter all those old crows.

........Deep breaths take you down once more
........while I pace upon the shore.

Let me just say, the second to last stanza is beautiful. Beautiful. I love the line, "The gap affixed runs so deep"--it has such an ☺☺☺☺ ring to it, perhaps, if this can be taken well, as a sort of thing that Frodo or Sam would say about their journey towards Mount Doom. But in a way, it is more than that. It is a sort of lovely despair--a deep longing for something you can't quite have, perhaps because of your own actions, or your fears of what would happen if you attain her (of course, heh heh, we're still talking about the fox ).

Last stanza. The second to last line is fine, but the closing one could use a little work. The idea is perfect, but it just doesn't deliver as well for me. I'm loathe to offer you suggestions, as your poetic genius, amateur as you call it, far outstrips mine, but perhaps you could consider an alternative to "pace"? It just doesn't seem to capture the intense longing the fox has for his prize. What about "linger," or "tarry?" It seems like a verb closer to that line of thought would do more service to your piece: it doesn't seem so much that the fox is impatient, but rather that he cannot leave, that he must remain, that he is burdened with his desire for consummation, or digestion, whichever it is. Anyway, I enjoyed it, this was longer than I thought, and I'm not quite going to bed yet--a cigarette and a little more perusing of CGR are in order. Oh the lives of the youth.

Note: for some reason, the CGR boards don't like the word "e p i c." I wrote it above in the penultimate paragraph (practicing my figures of speech, just read Arthur Quinn for class): "it has such an e p i c ring to it."

[Jeffrey]

Originally Posted by guitarczar

Since I'm in the critiquing mode, and it's way past even considering the thought of some decent sleep, I think I'll take a crack at this (perhaps my resolve then?). Before you take that as anything less than kind (and no allusion to kin--unless the brotherhood of poetry), what I mean to say is that in the perfect world, I approach your poems like I am writing a paper. It is always my desire that the end product will be engaging and well-thought out, though the results (on my end) are often less than satisfactory--even without the time constraints!

You were certainly in a loopy mood when you wrote this. I dig the wordplay, bleeding Chestertonian.

But as I have to begin to end, I will go about embarking, even if I leave a heavy footprint and ruin the scenery.

A poem is not fully born until there is a reader co-creating each line.

First, let me say that when I saw the title of this poem, I delighted in my heart: it is enjoyable to see you proffer some light fare, and the further usage of Aesop's fables brought back childhood memories, or at least prepubescent ones (an odd way of marking time, but I know it was before I was a teenager). Of course, the Deuteronomy reference is nice, but as that is a staple in almost all of your poems, I will proceed to the stanzas. Also, as I am looking to retire to my Ikea "student-approved" bed within the hour, I will make this brief, and simply comment on a couple parts. As the poem is a short, a short critique is probably fitting.

I don't necessarily think of this as lighter fare. One of the fables I am referencing involves a fox deeming grapes sour simply because he cannot reach them. Additionally, as you noted, there's a sort of predatory vibe here - and the fox is the "villain" in many fables.

A well-crafted stanza. I particularly like the contrast between "cold" and "hot" and the additional rhyming of "flood" and "blood." That these two techniques are coupled together--"cold flood" and "hot blood," shows, as you said of one my poems, "remarkable foresight."

Thanks, I'm proud of those lines. They're simplistic, but hopefully not cliche.

Here, I struggled a bit with the second line, as the "wine-stained teeth" seemed to call up a distinctly human image. I imagine that your poem works on several levels: it seems quite apparent that the whole "fox/otter" thing could be analogous to "man/woman," and I am almost certain that that is part of your intent. Even with that other layer, however, it still seems that the hints should remain solely for the reader to parallel to the romantic relationships we men undertake, with a bit of the predator coming out in us every once and a while. I think that replacing "calling" with "whistling" might work better. Here, you may object, that whistling brings the association even closer. However, we are already aware of the fox's insidious intent. "Calling out" seems as if the fox is trying to save the otter, "Whistling through" indicates that the fox is trying to lure her. Of course, you may have over reasons for leaving it as such, but it is something to mull over (perhaps while you take in the fruits of your labor? ).

I do agree that "whistling" is stronger than "calling." Foxes can't whistle, however - they can call out. This stanza is supposed to be vaguely (and uncomfortably) transformational. I really, really like anthropomorphic flourishes to art.

I'll have to think of word choice, but I don't think the Fox has only malevolence in his heart - he may indeed be captivated by the Otter, and is merely disgusted with himself.

Let me just say, the second to last stanza is beautiful. Beautiful. I love the line, "The gap affixed runs so deep"--it has such an ☺☺☺☺ ring to it, perhaps, if this can be taken well, as a sort of thing that Frodo or Sam would say about their journey towards Mount Doom. But in a way, it is more than that. It is a sort of lovely despair--a deep longing for something you can't quite have, perhaps because of your own actions, or your fears of what would happen if you attain her (of course, heh heh, we're still talking about the fox ).

The gap affixed is a crack running through many of my poems (buy m' chapbook). It's a reference to Christ's tale of Lazarus and the Rich Man, and also a reference to plate tectonics and genetic drift. "Lovely despair" might fit what the phrase means to me. It's a beautiful phrase, especially when I first wrote a song/poem using it: "And between us there exists the evidence of your drift."

Last stanza. The second to last line is fine, but the closing one could use a little work. The idea is perfect, but it just doesn't deliver as well for me. I'm loathe to offer you suggestions, as your poetic genius, amateur as you call it, far outstrips mine, but perhaps you could consider an alternative to "pace"? It just doesn't seem to capture the intense longing the fox has for his prize. What about "linger," or "tarry?" It seems like a verb closer to that line of thought would do more service to your piece: it doesn't seem so much that the fox is impatient, but rather that he cannot leave, that he must remain, that he is burdened with his desire for consummation, or digestion, whichever it is. Anyway, I enjoyed it, this was longer than I thought, and I'm not quite going to bed yet--a cigarette and a little more perusing of CGR are in order. Oh the lives of the youth.

Pacing does describe what the Fox is doing in my head, but it may indeed be underwhelming. The Otter has submerged, and the Fox - unable to attain her depth - simply waits on the shore until she returns.

Note: for some reason, the CGR boards don't like the word "e p i c." I wrote it above in the penultimate paragraph (practicing my figures of speech, just read Arthur Quinn for class): "it has such an e p i c ring to it."

Wait, ☺☺☺☺ isn't allowed?

[guitarczar]

Originally Posted by Jeffrey

Wait, ☺☺☺☺ isn't allowed?

Apparently not. Perhaps those who pay for the message boards can see it? ☺☺☺☺. E p i c.

[Nate]

Originally Posted by Jeffrey

Wait, ☺☺☺☺ isn't allowed?

YESW!

[Skeeter]

I'm fairly certain the ban of epic is temporary as a joke.