The Adjutant's Daughter-Revised

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FranktheFrank
Posts: 1532
Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
Location: Between the mountains and the sea

The Adjutant's Daughter-Revised

#1 Post by FranktheFrank » 01 Jul 2018, 15:19

You flit around by the polo ground
pavilion at Pune, outside the officer's
mess, your oiled jet-black hair brushes
the neck of your lemon coloured frock,
its cotton weave billows in the breeze.

In my loneliness, I find you so enchanting,
a free spirit, a butterfly, so young and clean.
You play and dance amid battalion drill,
the bark of the Regimental Sergeant Major,
the stamp of black buffed boots. You give
no heed under the gaze of your eagle-eyed
father, like his favourite polo pony his love
rests on you.

Hardships and vicissitudes may arrive
like Mogul invaders in a future dictated
by karma. But you augur beauty, grace,
and strength. You have those qualities,
I see them in you, you will overcome.

A bugle call confirms my divination.

BobBradshaw
Posts: 1366
Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03

Re: The Adjutant's Daughter

#2 Post by BobBradshaw » 02 Jul 2018, 00:29

The first stanza is the best... the other 2 too telling ... I like the details and contrasts here:

I see you flit around a dung heap,
your oiled jet-black hair brushing
the neck of your lemon coloured
frock, the light cotton weave billows
in the pungent air near Pune garrison.

SivaRamanathan
Posts: 1003
Joined: 14 May 2011, 20:30

Re: The Adjutant's Daughter

#3 Post by SivaRamanathan » 04 Jul 2018, 05:51

Frank

Only odd thing I notice is the 'lemon colour'. Girls in Pune garrison don't wear frocks. Skirts, perhaps?

S

Bernie01
Posts: 777
Joined: 30 Jul 2015, 11:14

Re: The Adjutant's Daughter

#4 Post by Bernie01 » 04 Jul 2018, 06:02

Frank---


i was so happy for you with your recent IBPC victory---my favorite poem of yours as i said at the time.



bernie

Bernie01
Posts: 777
Joined: 30 Jul 2015, 11:14

Re: The Adjutant's Daughter

#5 Post by Bernie01 » 04 Jul 2018, 06:49

Frank---


don't shrink from the contrast, formal military, a perfect moment of a child.



The RAJENDRA SINHJI INSTITUTE, PUNE.
longing to be Lloyd’s Polo Club,
for the Officers of Pune Garrison,
levelled by Maharaj,Shri Rajendra
to accommodate Combined Officers’ Mess
his daughter etched into a sunrise
yellow beyond secular belief
dancing as oblivious as rain.


bernie

FranktheFrank
Posts: 1532
Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
Location: Between the mountains and the sea

Re: The Adjutant's Daughter

#6 Post by FranktheFrank » 04 Jul 2018, 21:19

Thanks Bernie
actually you omitted to comment on this particular poem
but that is fine as you often prod me into working harder
and I appreciate it very much. Bob did help me with an
errant comma on this one and in great encouragement
so did Dale, where is Dale I miss him.

I assure you Siva the girl wore a cotton/linen billowing
lemon dress/frock, it is etched in my memory like
my own wedding.

I will consider adding to the poem as you suggest
Bernie, with military nomenclature.


Yes you did workshop Bernie, I forgot an earlier draft, thank you.

Bernie01
Posts: 777
Joined: 30 Jul 2015, 11:14

Re: The Adjutant's Daughter

#7 Post by Bernie01 » 05 Jul 2018, 04:01

Frank---

here is what i writ:

five stars. Red Carpet. Palm d'Or.


Tone, detail, narrative flow.


I step over a yoki lying in the gutter, smooth, clear declarative opening. location, is also suggested. very economical sentence.


I continue to eat my corned meat pasty,
an import - Peter's Pies, dead to his plight
as he to mine.


agree with Bob, here. didn't recognize Peter's Pies. i understand it, but it did nothing for me---and temporarily distracted from the poem...why not a quick cut to weather, the street, traffic...etc...you pick one, but an image.


I throw myself in to the rickety street,
shops and loud radio shops crazy in the heat.

I continue to eat my corned meat pasty,
an import - Peter's Pies, dead to his plight
as he to mine.


A bell peals from Armarnath Temple might cut peals---conventional.
a tinge of regret I have no faith,[/b ] a nervous flash of regret, I'm godless.
other than love of self. conventional pop psychology...


i wonder, the bell .....

a bell for the long yatra pilgrimage
to the holy shrine of Amarnath.
India is still dressed in mystery for me.




A pretty girl plays on a dungheap, dungheap---sounds too familiar to my ear---where else could she play?
vapour rises from the pile,
spotless in her lemon cotton dress. good narrative movement, but do we slip from place with a European fabric?



There is a queue for the kerbside I like this cut from the girl to the shop...
barber, he smiles and wags his head This verse is original and visual, maintains tone and has me involved.
as Hindu's do, I touch my two day growth.


I grab a coffee at the Best Bombay Coffee Already had food in first verse, yes? What else can you grab?
Shop. It is good, a strong toasted brew,
from a broken down van sans wheels. I like the ---van sans wheels---can the van be exhausted? even..wrecked, or piled high with film ads.

Sahrinda comes to me like a floating
white shawl, she greets me with more
than a kiss, passerby's smile indulgently.

i like the close, unexpected, a punch as Bob has said elsewhere....


and this is worth the ticket price:

than a kiss, passerby's smile indulgently


i like this poem a great deal---my many comments reflect the mental process i go through with my own poms, and why i sometime plug in new modifiers, to see if they improve the impact.


great job.


bernie henrie

FranktheFrank
Posts: 1532
Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
Location: Between the mountains and the sea

Re: The Adjutant's Daughter

#8 Post by FranktheFrank » 05 Jul 2018, 09:23

Yes, so sorry Bernie
my abject apology again
I had forgotten,
no excuse but old age.
You have had a great influence on my work. :)

Bernie01
Posts: 777
Joined: 30 Jul 2015, 11:14

Re: The Adjutant's Daughter-revised

#9 Post by Bernie01 » 05 Jul 2018, 21:14

boy, do i understand that flagging memory business....i try to be understanding...with myself....LOL.

now, your Adjutant pom.

luv the idea, freezing a moment of hyper beauty.

my instinct, to raise another issue...like the military post itself...or weather, or some historical event...and then...wham...the real subject of the poem....


a lavishly labeled food table, say, and then a dinner guest cameo....


bernie

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