Which layout works?

4/25/2012

Hi Pente poets

I'd like some comments on the following styles for the same poem. Which one works best?

Blood on the sand

soldier crabs emerge
scurry for safety
dig in—confuse the enemy

beyond the beachhead
wet sand gleams—shimmers--
collapses into distant haze

I dawdle in the sun—scuff tidemarks idly--
battle plans drawn
there’s sand between my toes

seagulls hover—intelligence drones
bold eyes assessing
fisherman? forager?

interest wanes—wings tilt--
new heading back to base--
glide to safe landing

sandhills deploy--
a khaki army marches
through occupied territory

white tops attack—withdraw
engage frenetic action--
foam missiles spray

black rocks appear—higher ground
command position--
send out a scout—advance

concealed oyster shard mine--
a careless step—a sudden hurt--
blood flows

as on other sands--
blends with salt water--
is washed away

wounded I retreat
gulls’ legs skitter before me
red as the blood on the sand

A poem composed on an early morning beach walk. I was thinking about war poetry, and suddenly the images all around me were military in nature. The soldier crabs sent me down that path. (2012)

8 Comments

Judy link

4/25/2012 04:02:08 pm

This style is more a prose poem:

Blood on the sand

Soldier crabs emerge, scurry for safety—dig in—confuse the enemy.

Beyond the beachhead wet sand gleams—shimmers—collapses into distant haze.

I dawdle in the sun—scuff tidemarks idly. Battle plans drawn—there’s sand between my toes.

Seagulls hover—intelligence drones bold eyes assessing fisherman? forager? Interest wanes—wings tilt—new heading back to base—glide to safe landing.

Sandhills deploy—in serried rows a khaki army marches through occupied territory

White tops attack—withdraw—engage frenetic action. Foam missiles spray.

Black rocks appear—higher ground—command position. Send out a scout—advance.

Concealed oyster shard mine—a careless step—a sudden hurt. Blood flows as on other sands—blends with salt water—is washed away.

Wounded I retreat. Gulls’ legs skitter before me red as the blood on the sand.

Judy link

4/25/2012 04:05:08 pm

Here's the third layout:

Blood on the sand

soldier crabs emerge
scurry for safety
dig in—confuse the enemy

beyond the beachhead
wet sand gleams—shimmers--
collapses into distant haze

I dawdle in the sun—scuff tidemarks idly--
battle plans drawn
there’s sand between my toes

seagulls hover—intelligence drones
bold eyes assessing--
fisherman? forager?

interest wanes—wings tilt--
new heading back to base--
glide to safe landing

sandhills deploy--
in serried rows a khaki army
marches through occupied territory

white tops attack—withdraw--
engage frenetic action--
foam missiles spray

black rocks appear—higher ground
command position--
send out a scout—advance

concealed oyster-shard mine--
a careless step—a sudden hurt--
blood flows

as on other sands--
blends with salt water--
is washed away

wounded I retreat
gulls’ legs skitter before me
red as the blood on the sand

© Judith Bandidt 2012

Judy link

4/26/2012 06:38:25 pm

Lyn, here's the preferred layout, and some edits following our meeting today. A much better poem, I feel, and thank you Pente poets for your critiques. What do you think?

Blood on the sand

I dawdle in the sun—scuff tidemarks idly--
battle plans drawn
there’s sand between my toes

soldiers emerge
scurry for safety--
dig in—confuse the enemy

beyond the beachhead
wet sand gleams—shimmers--
collapses into distant haze

seagulls hover—intelligence drones
bold eyes assessing
fisherman? forager?

interest wanes—wings tilt--
new heading back to base--
glide to safe landing

sandhills deploy—in serried rows
a camouflaged army marches
through occupied territory

white tops attack—withdraw--
engage frenetic action--
foam missiles spray

black rocks appear—higher ground
command position--
send out a scout—advance

concealed oyster shard mine--
a careless step—the hurt is sudden--
blood flows

as on other sands--
blends with salt water--
is washed away

wounded I retreat--
gulls’ legs skitter before me
red as the blood on the sand

A poem composed on an early morning beach walk. I was thinking about war poetry, and suddenly the images all around me were military in nature. The soldier crabs sent me down that path.

Judith Bandidt © 2012

Dee

4/27/2012 02:29:02 pm

Hi Judy, yes, I like the final version and layout of your Blood on the Sand. I think I might scrap my effort From Breakfast Point.Not happy with either version. The first line got me going, but ended nowhere worth bothering! Dee

Judy link

4/27/2012 04:38:12 pm

Thanks for your comments Dee.

Hang on to that first line. It will take you somewhere, I'm sure.

But I actually liked both the poems. Why not revisit them at a later date, and put them up here and see what Lyn thinks?

Dee

4/27/2012 07:27:59 pm

Thanks Judy, Yes, I think putting them to one side for now might be a very good idea. I hope time might revive the thoughts I had with better words! Lyn, I will let you see the improved version(s) when the time comes.
By the way, the heavens have opened here again today, though not as bad as the day of our Maleny launch, thank goodness. Hope you're enjoying your guests.

lyn

5/3/2012 12:27:08 am

hello Judy,
sorry for the delay. Its been a bit hectic since our return to UK. Lovely to see a poem about sand when the UK is battered by gales and rain!
Its not easy comparing on screen, is it. By the time I had scrolled through, I definitely was opting for version three. Here are my comments on your final draft:
I agree with switching around the verses - you now begin with sand between the toes, and return to wounded feet at the end. I like 'soldiers' rather than the original 'soldier crabs'. But I preferred 'khaki army' rather than 'camouflaged'. I also preferred 'a careless step, a sudden hurt' in version 3 - it has more drama.
And - just a personal preference - I think you might omit 'intelligence drones'? On my own reading of the poem, I thought the fact that they are drones is a 'given'.
Soon I will email you with an update of life over on this side of the world.
Best wishes, Lyn

Ron Wiseman link

8/2/2012 11:45:53 pm

London
So many poets turned off London.
Its storms. Heat. Snow. Traffic chaos.
Its bridges. The Thames. The Tower.

No, it's not that poets are bored.
London is bored by the poets, I feel.
The Olympics are flying high, now,

but London? She's weary, she's old
and nowhere as cheery as the Queen
who is ageing as well ... very well!

London needs some love,
some real comfort after one,
Charles Dickens, almost

damned her forever, and I'll
freely admit, she is well past
her prime even after recovery

from Hitler's concerted, maniacal
bombardment, 70 years ago
and she did, as an older woman would:

paint herself up a bit, a reconstruction
job if you will, but could you call London
sexy? Hmm. It depends where you look.

No. I'm not being facetious at all.
There's the bustle at her West End
and the rawness of her East End.

Thinking of her as a mistress,
poor dear London is in distress:
she has lost her innocence

and with it, a lot of her fortune
so let the old lady gossip
about her illustrious past,

and when she becomes hoarse
from pollution, being trampled upon,
and politicians ministering upon her...

do let her water the geraniums,
pull down the blinds on extravagance,
and take a hot water bottle to bed.

Still, if you're down and out,
she's worth a visit. I know.
I've had the pleasure.

Ron Wiseman ©Aug 2012
[bustle has two meanings and I mean both!]

Which layout works?

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