(On listening to Sou MacMillan)

you were fingers
that slipped past
preconceptions to find
fertile earth hidden beneath
layer upon layer of
ought to's and shoulds
the siren song that trilled
and wailed, moaned and soared
dug in and down and deep

you were wonder and
amazement, vox humana
spanning octaves and spinning -BANG-
and train wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-iiiiiiiiIIIIIIIiistles
into compelling - into inspiring - into -

Girlfriend! I came >this< close
to putting down my pen the first time
you opened your mouth. Instead

I let you in and let you find
the buried voice that I'd
denied for years.

Love the imagery and storyline

I love the opening..so soothing to the ear with the repeating sounds.. .

- As always, I applaud the imagery of your poetry.

i would love to be able to inspire someone to write a poem like this about me. i hope that you shared it with her. i thought that it was great, really great.

Nice - I need a shower.

I love the sentiment at the end. Getting past intimidation and yielding to inspiration. Brilliant!

-Jesster

chameleon wrote:

(On listening to Sou MacMillan) you were fingers that slipped past preconceptions to find fertile earth hidden beneath layer upon layer of ought to's and shoulds the siren song that trilled and wailed, moaned and soared dug in and down and deep

SicK. that is sick. the imagery is awesome. I feel like I just had my brain ripped out of my head and rung over a rusty sink.

If I may offer a suggestion on this particular part... assuming this is a thread that allows for critique. I would try to elaborate on the deadly alluring/unescapable aspect of the siren's song.

Thanks, guys. Absolutely, Pandoramachine, comments and crit are /always/ welcome. I've been trying to get a handle on how and whether I wanted to expand this poem, and I think that's probably the way to go. I'll work on it when I've had more than 4 hours sleep in the last 72.

A shower, Jesse? Really? I'm really glad that the intimidation to inspiration part came through. And maybe I lied about doing this when I'm more awake..

you were fingers
that slipped past
preconceptions to find
fertile earth hidden beneath
layer upon layer of
ought to's and shoulds
the siren song that trilled
and wailed, moaned and soared
dug in and down and deep

and would
not
let
GO.

you were wonder and
amazement, vox humana
spanning octaves and spinning -BANG-
and train wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-iiiiiiiiIIIIIIIiistles
into - into inspiring - into -
compelling.. into..

Girlfriend! I came >this< close
to putting down my pen the first time
you opened your mouth and
spilled out

words that trampolined
inside my head, bouncing
and somersaulting,

spiraling mrowling cats
into howling tornadoes and mixing
featherbeds with angelwings
in my mind. Your poems were seed
and stem cuttings, roots digging fingers
in and down and deep

forcing into crevices
between form and
function, sprouting tendrils
that curled and twisted
around complacencies
and burst into turquoise
harmonies, melodies that
moved beyond eerie into

haunting the back hallways
of my verse, knocking at
the windows and digging in
beneath the cellar floor

to find
the buried voice that I'd
been trying
for years
to deny.

Absolutly beautiful. I loved it

The imagery is great, but speaking from a performance point of view, the rhythm of this piece is amazing. It flows almost like a rap or hip hop lyric. Kinda Bone Thugs n Harmony.

Nicely done. Glad I caught this one, even if it is later than sooner.

Sal Treppiedi
Albuquerque, NM

Thanks, Sal. This was written as a thank you/tribute to the first performance poet who really made me sit up and go - fuuuuuuuck!! I never thought of doing THAT with words. If you've ever caught Sou MacMillan, you know exactly what I mean. If you haven't, you really really should. Everyone should.

Regie Gibson gives a great suggestion on writing poems about people: he says that your subject should be able to find the poem randomly in the street, not see who it was addressed to or was written by, and instantly identify it as being about them. knowing sou well, this doesn't really seem like a poem that is inevitably about her, and i think you should strive for that.

I don't know if this is so much a poem *about* Sou as a poem *for* Sou, a tribute. I may be a little biased, since it's my mother's poem and I'm pretty sure that she did share this with Sou already(correct me if I'm wrong).

I've known Sou since I was 10 and I think this very strongly captures the FEELING that you get from her. Particularly the letting in line specifically draws out the relationship that Sou has as a nurturer of the word, not only with her own work, but with mine, my mothers and anyone else that she works with.

In regards to it being a tribute, I think people inspire us in different ways. I actually gave Regie a poem last week that he inspired me to write about something that has absolutely nothing to do with him. There would have been no way to contextualize the poem such that he could pick it up on the street and know that it was about him. But that's because it wasn't. Still, in some ways it was for him, and I think he appreciates that.

I am in no way trying to discount what you're saying here Alvin, I think it's great advice. I just think that in this case, it doesn't necessarily apply.

See, but this is reverse engineering. The poem doesn't remind you of Sou, your memories of Sou validate themselves through the poem. That process needs to be reversed.

Also, I don't think your example is quite applicable to this situation...

For the record - the poem actually plays on specific lines and rhythms from some of Sou's poems. She was in the room the first time it was read aloud without any reference to whom it was written about or for, and I'm quite certain that she recognized the references and the sentiment.

okay, that's clearly not what i meant and you know it.