The Art of Fine Dining

A cascade of beautiful imagery!

Thank you, AtomikOne.

And for the RL honor as well.

xo

I was gonna say something dumb
like you've said a mouthful
but having chewed it over ..

LOL Paul!

Thank you!

I'm digesting this one .... savoring it ..... slowly ..........

💜

Hopefully it agrees with you. 💜

Thank you, as always.

It did very much indeed. Still does. This poem is an amazing work of craftsmanship with words. 💜

This is an imagist delight Ahavanti...a beautiful painting of beautiful words.
Cheers...Harry

Thanks, Harry!

And for the RL honor.

The Art of Fine Dining

I
 
A half-circled sun of yolk --
its soft liquid rolling over-easy    
onto a( pineapple-orange) horizon-----cut the d    
   
Wind scrapes the earth  
as a butter knife over toast-----comma  
while grape-jellied plumes    
steamed from half-light    
perking-a-pot of Sumatra gold. ----full stop  
   
Window sheers became banners    
pristine white in surrender;    
caterpillar oceans reflected------- what do you mean, caterpillar oceans?    
light and shadowed movement    
across the ochred room  
   
Harboured candles shape-shifted------u-----shapeshifted is in Celtic mythology, means bad person    
dying upon a basin of bed-----a basin of bed does not make sense-    
and crushed cotton  
damp with perspiration    
   
Music absorbed as suds  
across a Sakura’d shore  
   
II  
   
Our diaphanous musk became---diaphanous is a translucent cloth-----musk is a scent  
a sybilline communiqué deciphered  
only by a Baroque engraving  
   
A flotilla of sixty questions sought
harbour amid nine answers from-----u  
strategic positions we never imagined  
   
They didn't fall as darkness or dew  
but held cataleptic in the air    
until the tightening garrot  
encircling our vast armada of bones collapsed --    
swallowing salted breath  
in a wave of white-foamed silence-----were you eating a rack of lamb  
   
Drowned( was) a thousand    
guttural sounds situated-----it reads like you were stabbing somebody----    
between two mouths full of  
nothing now but teeth    
tongues, and taste.

everybody wants to write like Bukowski and have on punctuation

but you are not Bukowski,

you describe the cafe, then you describe, using unrelated metaphors, or ambiguity,

which makes the poem jump from one realm to another;

to understand words you must be understanding and the context in which you put the words,

you must be able to string them together, not words that you picked up you like in your travels.

write it again and see what comes out, you're trying too hard to intellectualise your poems,



 

 
~

Thank you for your time and attention; I'll be clarifying some things  said in my response to your critique of my former poem, in hopes that your future responses waste neither of our time.     
. . . .     
        
A half-circled sun of yolk --     
its soft liquid rolling over-easy      
onto a( pineapple-orange) horizon-----cut the d       
. . . .     
    
No - I like the verb tense; it's intentional and unique.       
    
. . . .     
        
Wind scrapes the earth       
as a butter knife over toast-----comma       
while grape-jellied plumes      
steamed from half-light      
perking-a-pot of Sumatra gold. ----full stop       
. . . .     
    
Okay, here is where I get firm and reiterate my former reply to you:     
    
I do not use commas at line's end. Nor do I use full stops in free verse.  I would in a structured form; however, not in free verse. I hope that clarifies my stance this time.     
    
. . . .     
         
Window sheers became banners      
pristine white in surrender;      
caterpillar oceans reflected------- what do you mean, caterpillar oceans?      
light and shadowed movement      
across the ochred room       
. . . .     
    
It's called imagery.  You do understand imagery in poetry?  I'm not
being facetious in asking.  You didn't understand personification, so I'm unsure if you do imagery.     
    
Watch an ocean - to me it crawls as a caterpillar.     
    
. . . .     
         
Harboured candles shape-shifted------u-----shapeshifted is in Celtic mythology, means bad person      
dying upon a basin of bed-----a basin of bed does not make sense-      
and crushed cotton       
damp with perspiration      
. . . .     
    
Firstly, I am American and use American English; therefore, there is no 'u' in harbor.  Remember that along with the punctuation the next time you critique my work.  Secondly, shape shifting is so much more than a  "bad person", or even Celtic mythology. It's the ability to transform shape.  Again, imagery; we all see things differently. Lastly, basin is yet another form of imagery. Perhaps I envisioned the sheets as liquid pools of water one could just fall into across the bed.  Perhaps another would envision sheets of ice; who knows, except there's difference in each vision that relies on imagination vs logic.     
. . . .     
      
Our diaphanous musk became---diaphanous is a translucent cloth-----musk is a scent       
a sybilline communiqué deciphered       
only by a Baroque engraving       
. . . .     
    
I find your tunnel vision regarding imagery stifling. I suggest you read further into definitions like diaphanous.  It's characterized by extreme delicacy of form : ethereal, even.  Which is exactly what  I was attempting to portray in the scent.     
. . . .     
         
A flotilla of sixty questions sought     
harbour amid nine answers from-----u       
strategic positions we never imagined       
. . . .     
    
See above regarding American English. We got rid of 'u' when we fled for religious freedom.       
    
. . . .     
         
They didn't fall as darkness or dew       
but held cataleptic in the air      
until the tightening garrot       
encircling our vast armada of bones collapsed --      
swallowing salted breath       
in a wave of white-foamed silence-----were you eating a rack of lamb       
. . . .     
    
Actually I'm a vegetarian.     
    
. . . .     
         
Drowned( was) a thousand      
guttural sounds situated-----it reads like you were stabbing somebody----      
between two mouths full of       
nothing now but teeth      
tongues, and taste.     
. . . .     
    
Firstly, were is used in the first and third person plural (we, they), i.e. - sounds is plural.  Secondly, you're free to interpret in your own way. That's the beauty of poetry.     
. . . .     
    
everybody wants to write like Bukowski and have on punctuation     
    
but you are not Bukowski,     
. . . .     
    
No; they don't. And I hope to gosh not.  The only person I wish to express is myself, in my own individual way.     
. . . .     
    
you describe the cafe, then you describe, using unrelated metaphors, or ambiguity,     
    
which makes the poem jump from one realm to another;     
. . . .     
    
The cafe? You're applying critique from personal interpretation. Personal perception doesn't make it Universal truth.  That's what I love about poetry.  There are a thousand universes of individual truths between the lines.     
. . . .     
    
to understand words you must be understanding and the context in which you put the words,     
    
you must be able to string them together, not words that you picked up you like in your travels.     
    
write it again and see what comes out, you're trying too hard to intellectualise your poems,     
. . . .     
    
Again, thank you for your critique and advice.  Now I have some for you.       
    
Firstly, when you read a poem, read the footnotes.  This is for a competition that has guidelines. It will help you understand the nature of the poem better.  Secondly, remember a poet's style once you've discussed it, e.g. - punctuation, etc.  so you aren't wasting yours of their time pointing it out.  Thirdly, note the spellings of nationalities prior to suggesting changes. This, too, won't waste anyone's time.  Fourthly, expand your research on words to include all vs the first definition you lock onto in the dictionary.  This will assist the development of your imagination over logic - which is just one avenue of beauty poetry provides.     
       
Lastly, educate yourself regarding poetic terms.  You can hardly offer a critique when you don't understand what personification or imagery is.  In my last poem Freedom was clearly personified; however, because you didn't understand what personification in poetry meant, you failed to comprehend the application, and thus misinterpreted the verse.    
   
You refer to Bukowski and reference poetic essays as though you have a full comprehension of them. How could you possibly without understanding the simplest poetic terms ( per your own admission )?     
    
While I appreciate honest critique,  I don't appreciate wasted time.  I feel you intentionally pointed out something I've told you I eschewed during our previous discussion.  This is a complete waste of valuable time.     
    
Let's keep that in mind moving forward.

A brilliantly comprehensive response to an otherwise rigid attempt at critique. 💜📝

a delightful read.

Youve touched a soft inside me, and ive memories
of when dining with love that made me feel fulfilled
which also made food more enriching

am feeling deeply nostalgic

i love you, know its been a while

Only you could take a title like this adding your original imagery and turn it into a beautiful experience to savour :-)))

awesome :-))))))