2004-02-18 - 10:08 p.m.

Anatomy of a poem:

Here’s one of my latest, both in the early and the most recent draft. Not first and last draft because the first draft is about six lines and the most recent is not necessarily the final draft. The inspiration of the poem was a comic by Carla Speed Mc Neil entitled Finder: Talisman and, in particular, one scene wherein the star of the book drops into a tarn (a glacial lake, generally round into which ancient peoples threw weapons and other offerings) and comes out a warrior.

The first stanza is an introduction to the setting and features a poetic descriptive form is intended to resemble archaic poetic forms, like found in “Beowulf,” used by less advanced peoples who lacked words for everything. “Ice-rock” for glacier is one I happen to like a lot. The sort of Beowulf-ish form is intentional, as the setting is in a northern mountain, which is where you will find a tarn. The last line in the first stanza is a reference to community and tradition as well as a reference to a “motivational poster” in the Grant Morrison comic, Marvel Boy. The second stanza is intended as an introduction to the man wading out, the Young Warrior. Mainly, the stanza was intended as a spacer between the setting and the actions the Young Warrior takes, but it also serves to introduce a theme of violence and expand upon the community theme. The Young Warrior’s culture values the placement of the weapons under the waters; the arms under the tarn are a cultural institution for them. In the 2nd stanza, the Young Warrior is still an inferior member of his tribe, not yet a man and he is still strongly tied to his clan’s traditions. He comes into his own, blazing his own trail in the 3rd stanza, although he doesn’t become a full adult until the last line when he gives up his sacrifice. The prayers he says and the war cry he yells are his alone, his contribution to society. The fourth stanza is the only appearance of the Man Beneath the Tarn. He’s there to point out that all civilizations, including our modern civilization, are motored with the bones of our forefathers, whether they died in honor or ignobility, whether their sacrifices are remembered or forgotten. Although I do not mention it in the poem, I assume that he died a violent death, and the Man also serves as a reminder of the theme of the poem, being that our ancestors were violent, ugly individuals, who praised combat, war and competition. Of course, the setting in this poem and the Young Warrior and his people are intended to be my Nordic ancestors, who were violent and ugly, but I contend that this is not a unique property among ancient man. Even the Amerindians, with their counting coups, still thrived on violent competition, even if it did not always end in death.

Now, Tony inferred a religious or spiritual meaning in this poem, but I would not use that term. I’d say “The Man Beneath the Tarn” is more focused on traditional culture and violence in culture specifically, but I wouldn’t deny that violence and religion sometimes go hand and hand.

Here’s the early draft (hopefully diaryland will not fuck up my line spacing)

“The man beneath the tarn”

Based on Carla Speed McNeil’s Finder: Talisman

Dawn’s egg breaks yellow sending glowing beams across the roof of the world,
Glitter-diamonds flow across the land-bound whiteheads about the hills,
Ice-rock gleams in the sun and slowly lets its shinning wet children drip away,
To flow into the glowing circle, surrendering their soulless identity,

The man,
Who you have not met before,
Who you would not recognize,
And who could be called no one important,But is still a man gazes into the lake,
And his pale reflection, framed by the artifacts of his fathers, looks back,
He wades out towards the center and his toes grow numb,
Goose pimples chases up and down his legs,
His manhood shrinks a little and his foot is cut,
The water is no longer a crystal mirror, now a murky, ruddy, swirl,
He wades in a little more,

Eventually, with the chill swimming over his body,
He draws his blade, cleaned of his foes blood,
Remembers the life going out of his enemy’s eyes,
Thinks ahead to future battles,
Says a small prayer that you cannot hear,
And shouts a WHOOP! That shakes the world,
His manhood rises boldly and he lets his arm fly,

The blade falls forever, glinting in the sun,
The small splash is lost about the man,
His back now turned, his head and heart thumping,
The dagger floats to the bottom of the lake,
Landing in the hand of the Man Beneath the Tarn,
Who’s sacrifice might now be forgotten,
Who’s cold rest maybe unappealing,
But who’s pale, lipless face seems to be a-grin.

I think I will stick with the current draft (following) for the time being. You will notice a few changes, but not many. This is pretty typical for me as I write. I will generally come up with a set of ideas and lines that seem cool and that I would like to connect and then write those into the poem, developing one “complete” early draft, which I then slowly edit line by line. The following edits of my poems do not generally change a lot after the first “complete” (complete in length and ideas, that is) early draft is finished. The edits generally focus on crawling through the poem line by line and finding better ways of saying stuff I have already said. One thing this means is that I can read an early draft aloud and feel at least somewhat confident in it, but, in general, I would rather entertain my audience with the finished, polished work. Not that I am saying this poem is finished.

Current draft:

Dawn’s egg cracks in the east, breaking from red to yellow,
Sending glowing beams across the roof of the world,
Glitter run o’er hillcrest to mountaintop and landbound whitecaps thereon,
Gray-haired world-elders A-shine with winter diamonds loom over shaded vale
Ice-rock gleams in sun and slowly lets shinning wet children drip away,
Flowing into the glowing circle, surrendering their soulless identity,

The man,
Who you have not met before,
Who you would not recognize,
Who could be called no one important,
And who only has just become a man amongst his kith,
The man gazes into the lake,
And his pale reflection, framed by the artifacts of his fathers, looks back,
He wades out into the water and his toes grow numb,
Goose pimples chases up and down his legs,
His manhood shrinks a little and his foot is cut,
The water is no longer a crystal mirror, now a murky, ruddy, swirl,
He continues,

Eventually, with the chill swimming over his body,
The water lapping against his waist,
He draws his blade, cleaned of his foes blood,
Recalls the life going out of his enemy’s eyes,
The moist orbs turning from shine to cloud,
Thinks ahead to future battles and glories to be his,
Says a small prayer that you cannot hear,
And shouts a WHOOP! That shakes the world,
His manhood rises boldly and he lets his arm fly,

The blade falls forever, glinting in the sun,
The small splash is lost about the man,
His back now turned, his head and heart a’thump,
The dagger floats to the bottom of the lake,
Landing in the hand of the Man Beneath the Tarn,
Who’s sacrifice might now be forgotten,
Who’s cold rest maybe unappealing,
But who’s pale, lipless face seems to be a-grin.

A few changes there. “Glitter-run o’er hillcrest” was in the first half-dozen line draft. It didn’t make it into the early draft because in the first fetus draft, I was going to contrast the mountains, where the poem is set, with the valley beneath, where the Young Warrior’s people may have come from. That was dropped from the early draft and with it, the “glitter-run” line. “Glitter-diamonds” is a cool line too, though. I am really torn between the two versions of the 1st stanza and I am not completely convinced the current draft improves upon the early one. I will probably removed the “glowing beams” line, that seems pretty lame. The 2nd stanza in the current draft shows a greater focus on the Young Warrior’s community and that the fact that the poem is about a rite of passage for him, something I am not sure came across in the early draft. I couldn’t stand the fifth line of the 2nd stanza in the early draft, it seemed WAY too “Dr. Chris,” but I don’t think the sixth line of the stanza in the current draft is dramatically better. The 3rd stanza doesn’t show a dramatic improvement, although I do like the idea of describing the life going out of his foe’s eyes, rather than just telling of it, although I am not sold on how I described it. The 4th stanza shows the smallest change, one I just made. I am pretty happy with it at this time, although I may describe the dagger falling through the water in the future.

Overall, there is not a huge amount of change, but I think the changes I did make improved the piece.

Wow. I learned a lot about this poem and writing from composing this entry and comparing these versions side by side. I also like the idea of the annotations I added describing the poem at the beginning of the entry; its something I stole from Mc Neil who features a lot of annotations in her work. I will defiantly have to do this again.

In the meantime, tell me what you think of the poem, of the versions, of my writing, of this process, or of whatever. Please!

-Jesse