A Risk
I typed this up between the Salt Lake and Farmington stations on UTA FrontRunner tonight. Right now we're almost to Layton. I'm halfway home.
For now I'm giving it the obvious title Lights From a Train.
I can see lights from the city in the distance,
But I don’t know what they are trying to say to me.
There should be a message somewhere in all of this beauty.
Of course, the beauty masks the doing of the people,
Good and bad. But that doesn’t stop it from being beautiful.
It might make it more so.
To think that a living room somewhere
Glows with a radiance I can see from the train
Gives new meaning to family values.
In the dark, the light of a hundred homes finds me traveling.
I like to see them at night, because in the morning far fewer are lit.
I wonder what that means.
When the bridge blocks my view I leave this world,
But the panic of my departure subsides quickly
Because the darkness is short.
A shopping center brings me back,
But I don’t like that light as much.
What does it illuminate?
People.
They are in each others’ presence,
But not really together.
They speak only of bargains and “excuse me”
And “would you like paper or plastic?”
And, “which way is the restroom?”
They leave each other
Not really having met in the first place.
In the homes it is different.
I hope.
---end of poem---
By the way, there's beautiful lightning tonight.
Comments
It’s always nice to see someone taking the leap into poetry. It’s not an easy world to live in by any means: unforgiving, relentless, solitary (kind of like the blogosphere). But it has its own rewards, those I haven’t been able to find through any other medium and that I can’t quite put my finger on. If I had to take a stab though, I’d say it’s the thrill of turning a phrase that’s never been turned before and of discovering things about myself, the world, and my place in that world through the acts of language. Anyway...
I like what you’ve got here. Light is a fruitful metaphor for people, especially when considering the varying degrees, points, and constellations of light your poem moves through and (excuse my usage here) in light of the Restored Gospel. Some of your ideas and lines strike a resonant chord in my mind: the idea of light “masking” people and, as it masks, paradoxically revealing the depths (or not) of human action and faith; the contrast of darkness and light in your fourth and fifth stanzas provides a natural and obvious juxtaposition: how can we know the light without darkness? I also like the notion of light being in the presence of other light (as in line 20) yet not really being together for the same reason—because it subtly juxtaposes degrees of light that are neither darkness nor fully independent sources of illumination.
I don’t know if you’re planning to do anything more with this “risk” (if not, just ignore the babbling commenter; he’s full of himself anyway...), but if I might pass along some advice I got from Michael Collings when I submitted some poems to be published in Irreantum a couple of years ago. His words proved pivotal in my writing of poetry and I share them because I think you have good poetic material here: He suggested that I focus my language and my images, that I hone in on the kernel of my thoughts and use words very deliberately to express (to quite literally press out) that seed into tightly compressed lines (lines stripped of fluff and linguistic filler, though they don’t necessarily have to be short).
For instance, if I were revising stanza one, I (someone who is obviously not you) would say something like this:
“Lights crowd upon me from the distant city, their hum / pressing through dusk…” etc.
I’d also take out the overt comparison of lights to people for two reasons: one, it seems overly didactic; and two because you’ve already made the more subtle comparison when you talk about where the light is coming from: the city, homes, a shopping center, etc.—let the reader make the connection. You might also consider working the lightning in that you mention in your afterthought because it provides a good contrast to these manufactured sources of light. As for the title, I like “From a Train” (you might drop the “Lights”) because it gives a bit of context and provides a good starting point for your musings on the lights passing you by. There are many things unsaid in this title (and perhaps more striking because they’re unsaid): that you’re looking out a window as the landscape flies by and a further contrast with the lights in/on the train v. the lights outside the train.
Anyway, I hope I haven’t gone too long or waxed too analytical and become a discouraging factor in your poetic ventures. I’d like to see more of what you come up with.
"I hope I haven’t gone too long or waxed too analytical and become a discouraging factor in your poetic ventures."
Far from. I consider your analysis very generous and welcome. As my intro to the poem implies, I used to write poetry regularly, though not for years. I was on the train trying to work on a literary project, but feeling flat. The image of the lights in Bountiful, my hometown of about 20 years, struck me deeply and I thought I'd let the feeling flow as an attempt at finding my center an inviting inspiration.
Your recent poem on your blog gave me the idea to both express myself in a poem and to post it online. That second part was the real risk for me. I've always been unreasonably anxious about exposing my work to others - to the point of tears in the past, though it's not so bad now.
Your suggestions are good ones and mostly in line with my intentions. The one exception is your reference to the didactic parallel between lights and people. I actually didn't intend a linkage there, though I can see it now. Everything else you said was spot-on with what I was thinking at the time.
I only spent about 15 minutes on this poem, from conception to conclusion and I did no re-writing. It was purely an exercise in channeling inspiration. I may revise it now that someone has taken the time to give it thoughtful criticism. Thanks for that. I wasn't expecting it and am flattered that you see potential there. Thank you also for your good advice.
As far as the lightning goes, I really wanted to work it in, as you suggest, but I only had a few minutes and was feeling much better. I felt that I had to get on to my other project, on which I made an important breakthrough. Incidentally, (and this may be an even greater risk for me) if you have time and interest, I would be grateful for your input on that as well. I don't mean to make you into my personal critic, but I am in need of guidance. It's my first serious venture into the world of fiction. I won't be offended or upset if you decline. If you are interested, though, I'll give you access to the private site where I am keeping that project.
Either way, be assured that your comments have given me the confidence to post whatever other "poetic ventures" I make.
As for making me your own personal critic, I do accept personal checks *wink, wink* and would be glad to help you out. I don't know how soon I'll be able to get around to giving you some feedback, but drop me a line about the site (my email address is listed on my blog) and what you're hoping to accomplish or what you want from me and I'll get to it as soon as I can.