This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2004-09-11 12:24:05 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Crab

I am a rock  With a soul. I learn my way Obliquely. Other rocks are not like me. They are still. There is that learning, too. Again that untidy wetness Swallows my sky. It spits it out again, Now it drowns me in light. Small meals sate me. When I feed I seem to blow  A species of kiss. Sometimes I teach. A long pink rock approaches My sharp joints approach it back: Thus it learns it is not a rock. This I learn, too. More pink not-rocks seek me: Thus I discover shadows One claw at a time. 

Copyright © September 2004 Mark Andrew Hislop

Additional Notes:
A bit of whimsy ... or, the poem you write when you dunno what poem to write.


This Poem was Critiqued By: Latorial D. Faison On Date: 2004-10-05 15:26:47
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.80000
Well Mark, even when we don't know what to write, we come up with some pretty good material. I found this one very interesting. I've certainly read my share of nature poems on the Link this month, and when I found that this one had quite the oceanic spin on it, I was delighted. I like the simplicity of this poem: the curt style, the short lines, the simple language. Sometimes we writers tend to over-verbiage the language, and it just turns out a complete mess (sometimes). You take and personify a crab, so much so that we can actually see ourselves inside this life. The poem moves at a good rate, and it allows the reader to take in all of the new elements that you do bring in. And just in case anyone has ever wondered what goes on inside a crab's world, Mark Andrew Hislop has penned a poetic peace that's worthy. You have certainly used your poetic creativity here, and thanks for sharing it on TPL. It's great to come across something different on the list. This was a delight to read. Great poem. Latorial www.latorial.com


This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-10-02 17:37:50
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mark: Not sure -- but I think this is one of those poems which 'writes us' if you will. The sounds are very pleasing to the ear, and the metaphor of 'crabness' as a form of consciousness is very appealing to this reader. I think you've captured an 'essence of crab' so to speak. It gives the reader a new way to think about what is "not-rock" (not self, not crab, not known). I love the idea of being on the ocean floor, obliquely sliding into the shadows. How do we perceive others, after all? Do we ever really 'see' others as they are, or more as 'something' in contrast to what we feel ourselves, kind of locked into our own crabshell of personality. That separation from every other being, I guess, is a good thing and a bad thing. Specifics about the sounds you've used that brought me back to read this again and again: I am a rock With a soul.---nice, open assonance of 'ah'/'oh' I learn my way--deft 'y' sounds here and in L1 below. Obliquely. Other rocks are not like me. They are still. There is that learning, too. These are some very subtle insights offered by the speaker. What we understand as 'alive' vs what is really alive. What is 'a rock with a soul'? Do rocks have souls? Do they learn? "that learning" gives me the feeling that the kinds of learning are infinite. It may be that this poem especially appeals to my panentheistic side. This is a very wise crab who even knows that there are other kinds of learning, other kinds of music than his preferred style. The speaker invites us to peer at 'other rocks' to see what we may have missed in our anthropomorphism. "Crabopomorphism"? Again that untidy wetness Swallows my sky. It spits it out again, Now it drowns me in light. This gives me delight, especially. That the finicky crab finds the surrounds as "untidy wetness" - and again the 'y/i' sound in sky and light. Apparently the crab prefers the sky to his ocean surrounds. These lines create some fascinating visual/kinetic images. The poem is very satisfying this way. Line 3 elicits my memory bank pictures of crabs eating and apparently spitting out the bits they don't like. The crab feels that everything that happens is happening to him, in personal terms. Aren't we like that though! (I am.) Small meals sate me. This is a sophisticated crab. Again, the cute crab face, munching, spitting, blowing a "species of kiss." He doesn't know how he does that. I don't know if I'd want such a kiss. I wonder how we look to other species. Kind of Gary Larson-esque thoughts tumble over each other as your images of the crab coalesce with a remembered cartoon of a woman speaking, with diagonal streaks in the dialogue balloon, while Fluffy attentively 'listens' to her, entitled, "What Fluffy Hears." Sometimes I teach. A long pink rock approaches My sharp joints approach it back: Thus it learns it is not a rock. This I learn, too. How we learn from one another. It's all a part of learning, you seem to be showing us here - how we bounce off one another, sometimes painfully, sometimes pleasurably. More pink not-rocks seek me: Thus I discover shadows One claw at a time. The speaker withdraws into the safety of shadows. One can't blame him. Those pink not-rocks are cheeky. I like this poem a LOT. I've read it so many times you'd be surprised. I feel a bit embarrassed responding to it so late. I feel quite shy about it, in fact. I hope you enjoy my remarks even a small percentage as much as I enjoyed your poem. Good luck!! Mmmm, very nice. Joanne
This Poem was Critiqued By: Erzahl Leo M. Espino On Date: 2004-09-27 02:02:09
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Hi Mark, I was drawn by your poetry here! I find your subject amusing and funny, and I didn’t expect how contemplating and interesting your contents are. Yes, this may sound a bit of whimsy…but your words speak in volume. “I am a rock With a soul.” - Actually, it was your first two lines that contain lyrical magic and spell (that lured me on reading further) yet it still holds true and realistic to the very nature of “Crab”. Excellent! “I learn my way Obliquely.” - What a humble and naughty words all-together! I enjoyed the playfulness and satirical beauty of the piece, plus your lyrical prowess radiates in the entire poem. Lines I enjoyed most are: 1. “Again that untidy wetness swallows my sky.” 2. “It spits it out again, Now it drowns me in light.” 3. “When I feed I seem to blow A species of kiss.” Overall, this is a standout! Comic and fun yet deep and profound! You mix the best of both worlds. Kudos! As always, Erzahl :)
This Poem was Critiqued By: Gerard A Geiger On Date: 2004-09-14 12:55:52
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear Mark; I really like this piece...spoken from the point of view of the crab....I like the long pink not rocks....Of course ! what else would they be to a rock-like crab!! Thanks for this entertaining piece. Gerard
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-09-12 15:54:05
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Mark, I was so pleased to see you had posted a poem...you have been away too long and if you have been on the forum you know that TPL is in trouble. I can't let myself think of that as it has been such a haven to me...my simple solution is write poems..critique and then do it again, again, and again. Aptahy is the stalker here...anyway enough of that. I love this 'whimsical' poem...I am a sucker for fantasy. I hated it when my own children grew out of Disney films....then so did my grandchildren...I feel stupid going to those films alone...so now I rent them! I am a firm believer that fantasy can save us from ourselves..perhaps it is the laughter that saves us. The 1st stanza is just priceless....'I learn my way obliquely'...when I think of how a crab skitters across the rocks sideways I have to smile...funny looking little creature...tasty too....'untidy wetness swallows my sky' is very creative...wish I had thought of it. In S4 I am unsure about...'I seem to blow a species of kiss'..could it be blow the species a kiss? I am no doubt missing the point here...so help me out...you know me the sonnetless person sometimes needs some help. S5 is especially whimscal and in the last stanza 'more pink not-rocks seek me' is very clever. Don't deprive of us your talent for so long again! Hope your book is coming along...still wish I knew what it is about. Help keep TPL alive! Peace...Marilyn
This Poem was Critiqued By: James Edward Schanne On Date: 2004-09-12 11:31:42
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.57143
A cute little poem with : Again that untidy wetness Swallows my sky. It spits it out again, Now it drowns me in light. Rising above meer cuteness, to grasp something higher, visions That strikes the imagination into a playground of the soul
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