The Tangled Branch Discussion Forums

Hi Eric,

Some nice descriptions here, but is there any way you could re-shape it to feel less dominated by the listing of things? There was a glimpse of something else in the last verse, but we need to see something similar earlier, I think.

All the best,

Trev 

Trev, I think specifics would remove the charm in this poem. 
The items and associated exoticisms make me feel envious; my keepsakes are humbled...but no less important to me.
These things are always site-specific, mean more to the possessors than the observer.
Enigmatic, it leaves us to fill in the imagined spaces. For me it's a reminder, a bunch of clues, that remind me how little
we really know about everyone! 
Nice poem, Eric.

Hi Eric,

Two such ambiguous statements: "I cannot now speak of" (for which of the myriad of reasons?) and "I sometimes/ lost my place." To lose your place sounds like losing ranking in a competition; if you were referring to a physical place wouldn't you have said, lost your sense of place?

Such mysterious stirrings. But you assure us that now, they are all just for looking at. Hmmm.

Enjoyed,

Jackie

 

Hi Eric,

I have grandpa's old violin brought with the family from Norway, it and a framed photo of him and grandma hangs on the wall behind the sofa. I have grandma's tea table in front of the sofa engaged in holding up a plant. These and many items around my house grow in meaning to me as I respect more and more the memory of my ancestors who actually fiddled old polka music in 3/2 beer joints in Northern Minnesota scrambled through wars, depression, heavy farm work, illness. I feel their presence. "Just for looking" to me, means they may not be in use for their original purpose, but they serve a different purpose now. Enjoyed your personal list poem.

I understand the nostalgia. Strongly descriptive, rounded writing. Good read.

'...lost my place', for me suggested someone losing their place in life, not a physical location or even a recognised position within a family unit or social grouping.

Someone who finds himself outside the circle of firelight.  Not necessarily an outcast, but someone temporarily disassociated from the general flow of his life.

Just a thought.

=====

A tin box with a broken clasp
containing things
I cannot now speak of.

This bit struck a definite chord.  I have a sealed up folder, heavily taped, containing letters to and from my ex-wife from when things were good between us.  I could have just burned the lot, but that felt wrong.  They're 'family documents'.  Part of my girls' history.  But I genuinely have no desire to re-visit them.  I know only too well the power of words  The girls can decide what to with them when the time comes.

My eldest saw it when I was moving to the bungalow.  I assured her it wasn't a serial killer's confession, or 'anything like that'.   She seemed quite relieved.  As a writer herself she shares the uncomfortable and unsettling ability to 'think the unthinkable' about her family and friends, and indeed herself.  (The 'dark side' of empathy.)

Gyppo