This Poem was Submitted By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2004-05-21 18:30:32 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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Balanced Accounts
"The imperfect is our paradise.
Note that, in this bitterness, delight,
Since the imperfect is so hot in us,
Lies in flawed words and stubborn sounds."
Wallace Stevens
At my window before morning while
The world sleeps, I gulp the moon
As palliation. I would efface all
I own for a trace of longanimity.
Graceful is the word I wish spoken
Of me as it is not the tragedy which
Matters but how it is borne. I tire
Of being reminded to count my
Blessings. Counting, my stamina
Wanes as the lone light in the sky
Oozes unction. I'd rather function
Than tot my assets. Seeing red.
Yes, graceful is the word I prefer
To describe me, even when restored,
Able to face the faustian future.
Yet recovery may reveal this truth:
From long lack of use, my graces
Annealed and the planet still
Pulses pizzicato with irony. |
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Copyright © May 2004 Mell W. Morris
Additional Notes:
The quote by Stevens is from "The Poems of Our Climate."
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jennifer j Hill On Date: 2004-06-04 21:13:01
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.91667
Hi Mell,
I learn so much from every one of your poems. That's part of why I hold each one so dear.
Suffice it to say, one doesn't study much poetry or literature in nursing school and I
have not really had time until recently to do much studying on my own. I raised five children
while going to nursing school and then working full-time as soon as I graduated. In fact, if
it weren't for all the erupting emotions from mistakes I made along the way, I might never have even looked to poetry at all. (just because I never really had much spare time until recently) But I
have always been into listening to a variety of music, though.
But with all the forum discussion, occasional additional notes or quotes regarding various
famous poet's work, I feel I am getting much more of an education here in recent months.
I never knew much about Wallace Steven's work, but have been reading about him and his poetry and feel like I just found out one of your many influences. The music of poetry is something you seem to have in common with him.
We all live in some degree of tempered imperfection, don't we? I find this poem delightfully
poignant. Your notable vocabulary shines right from the start with such perfect word selections
and melodious rhythms.
At my window before morning while
The world sleeps, I gulp the moon
As palliation. I would efface all
I own for a trace of longanimity
Sometimes it’s hard to know we have no control over our situation or at least we have no patience left for our physical weaknesses. Especially when the mind is sharp, but the body simply won’t cooperate. I’m intrigued by your use of ‘gulping the moon’ to ease your pain. And why else would you be up while the rest of the world sleeps. I see an IV drip coming straight down from the sky to your arm. *Smile* The combination of the slant rhyme efface/trace and the assonance from adding ‘palliation’ to the mix turns up the music a notch.
Graceful is the word I wish spoken
Of me as it is not the tragedy which
Matters but how it is borne. I tire
Of being reminded to count my
Blessings. Counting, my stamina
Wanes as the lone light in the sky
Oozes unction. I'd rather function
Than tot my assets. Seeing red.
You’ve got it right about the ‘how’ of handling our trials being the reason or purpose for trials in the 1st place. I can relate here. Of all virtues, grace seems to be the most needed, and hardest to develop. Assonance of me/tragedy makes S-2 flow well. Unction/function is brilliant rhyming. You’re ‘seeing red’, Is it because you’ve been at the window so long the sun is coming up, anger at the situation or more about being frustrated with how well you’re dealing with the situation? The latter is usually my issue.
Yes, graceful is the word I prefer
To describe me, even when restored,
Able to face the faustian future.
Yet recovery may reveal this truth:
From long lack of use, my graces
Annealed and the planet still
Pulses pizzicato with irony.
Alliteration of face/faustian/future is an intriguing choice of words that doesn’t surprise me at all coming from you. Makes me wonder if you’re making a deal with the devil to get well, haha
And there we have it. “Tempered imperfection” and the ‘planet still pulses/pizzicato with irony’. Wow! What a superb ending! Yes, it certainly does and the other
Thing I’m fairly sure of is that will never change. Ha!
Thanks for sharing this poem.
Blessings,
Jennifer
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2004-06-01 11:52:27
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mell,
And not "pizzicati with Hosanna." Clearly not, at this moment. Your graces "annealed." Great verb, great.
I found the poem uneven. The last stanza is superb.
Fuller explanation avoids me. As if our conjunction would set back the cause of letters.
I am but meager in my munitions.
Peace,
Marcus
This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2004-05-26 20:12:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.84211
Mell–What a place to be “...while the world sleeps...”. And, even the “...moon as
palliation.” offered very little comfort or solace: this ailing body is not healing/
recovering as quickly as desired/wanted/needed/hoped/prayed for; and the patience
or lack there of is showing. Great nonliteral and literal expressions used to subtly
and obviously relate some personal frustrations (IMO-this speaker may or may not
be the protagonist -does not matter-moreover, this piece could be fictional-does not
matter-smile).
The tone of this piece (IMO) moves grudgingly between being pensive; showing
anger; and feeling anguish. Perhaps aspects of stanza #4 reveals what length(s ) the
sufferer is willing to go (Faustian-sell out?) for a respite from all that’s gone before.
But wait! Last line of stanza #4, run-on/enjambement with stanza #5 Oh! Sweet
redemption! To operate in the black or at least with “Balanced Accounts.”
I hope I haven’t strayed so far from your intentions, that you won’t be able to set me
straight. P.S. not familiar with the poet "Stevens." Thanks for sharing this intricate
read. TLW
This Poem was Critiqued By: Edwin John Krizek On Date: 2004-05-23 10:34:16
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
Dear Mell,
Great poem! I particularly relate to the setting you have constructed for this poem in the first stanza:
"At my window before morning while
The world sleeps, I gulp the moon
As palliation. I would efface all
I own for a trace of longanimity."
I often sit in quiet the quiet times of either morning or evening and contemplate my own consciousness' reverie. I also like your phrase "graceful is the word I wish spoken of me..." We all want something positive to be spoken about us, however, I think "graceful" is positive without being to proud.
I am a little saddened by the end of the poem since it seems you might not reach your dream. I wish we all could find our ways a little better and attain those places we find special.
Ed Krizek
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2004-05-22 10:39:39
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.32258
Mell:
This month must be moving spirits in a spiritual direction,
as there have been more good submissions of late from more
poets than I can long recall. Yet there are few who march
to the call with regularity and consistency of product than
you do, and here, with this offering, you show us why you
lead the band: you write the songs.
Humbly,
tom
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jordan Brendez Bandojo On Date: 2004-05-22 00:39:04
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.90476
Hi Mell,
Once again, I am in awe on how you compose a very deep and profound writing.
Actually, all aspects of your writings strike me always especially this one:
the languistics, the choice of words, the influx of your ideas, you really
have the trademark that no one can imitate! I am sincere with that.
"Balanced Accounts" would mean a significant and serious thing. It can be a metaphor.
Indeed, a very striking title! The inclusion of the quote is new in your style.
The quote is about living, the philosophy of human beings, about us!
Very wonderful beginning:
"At my window before morning while
The world sleeps, I gulp the moon
As palliation. I would efface all
I own for a trace of longanimity."
While the world sleeps, I gulp the moon As palliation." very strong metaphor!
And the language starts to amaze me. I can see the emotion is a true experience,
there is forbearance, an experience of a well-groomed person, mature in words and spirit!
That is a description to yourself! And as you said, graceful, yes, you are
deliberate in your words and philosophy, spiritually enriched.
"it is not the tragedy which
Matters but how it is borne" ---what a great line to live by, that is longanimity!
This line "I'd rather function than tot my assets." reinforces the validity of the title!
And the ending is very dramatic!
"From long lack of use, my graces
Annealed and the planet still
Pulses pizzicato with irony." --- the attachment of music in your life in texas!
Profound, philosophical, very outstanding piece!
Mell, I salute to you!
You left me speechless with this one!
Jordan
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-05-21 21:23:52
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.88889
Mell:
What a sudden feast, an unexpected taste of mixed (bitter with sweet) flavors. I am
drawn in several directions by your poem, and by the quotation from Stevens. Rather,
I should say that I am drawn by the tensions within this poem - the lyrical as well
as the intellectual.
At my window before morning while
The world sleeps, I gulp the moon
As palliation. I would efface all
I own for a trace of longanimity.
Your ability as an accomplished poet is vividly evident in this poem, throughout
but especially in the phrase "I gulp the moon/As palliation." Assonant sounds
connect "moon/longanimity" inextricably; the internal rhyme in "efface/trace"
is soft, but so solidly stated -- as if a lion roars with whispered voice. The
lunar reference here suggests a definite feminine presence, but one not to
be trifled with.
"Graceful is the word I wish spoken/Of me as it is not the tragedy which/
Matters but how it is borne." These lines suggest that the path of imperfection
and suffering has its own grace. These are strengthening words. This is a credo
I wish to adopt, for it graces the speaker, the poem and readers.
The speaker rejects pastel platitudes, dependency on inspiration from without -
even the moon - for her stamina wanes as she "counts her blessings" as told
to do - finds that "the lone light in the sky/oozes unction." Instead of
turning to an external source for consolation, or 'counting' assets, she
turns toward her own internal light. Two words, given as a sentence in
L4 of S3, are remarkably energizing: "Seeing red." This suggests to me
that the speaker's greatest asset is her own ability to feel outrage
perhaps for an 'unbalanced account' and to experience life as it is
- imperfect. To face a future uncertain, with pluck, and above all,
personal dignity. The energetic plosives begin softly in L1 of S4
with "prefer" and build in L2 and 3 of the closing tercet to
emphasize the closing word -- "irony." The suggestion, at least for
this reader, is that though the speaker's graces may have "annealed" -
a process of heating and cooling that gives toughness - she will prefer
to be gracious, while fully aware of the vagaries of existence.
There is so much more I want to say. The hot, bitter delight of
human imperfection, of living vividly in the midst of 'tragic'
circumstances, of keen awareness - and so much more - communicate
to us in this, your most brilliant, white-hot poem.
This poem returns me to my own experiences - and away from denial
of the pain (and strength), and grit, which was their gift.
Brava!
Brava!
Brava!
As always,
Joanne
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