The Greenhouse Effect

[Tim J Brennan]

My oldest son
leans against his truck
after supper.

He waits for spring; to be caught
off-guard by the aroma
of lilacs that come and go and
come and go; by the rain
falling and falling; by trees
visiting the sky.

He waits for summer; for sparrows
taught to come around 
every hungry day.  He leans 
against his truck while darkness
and the darkening road
slip

past spring, 
past summer, 
past staying
until light falls;
until he is sure

of the unalterable road,
his hands in his pockets,
fingering crumbs.

Now he passes into his house:
all its angles, corners, windows,
blameless doors, even now,
unwilling to open.

He wants to invite me
to his house, to his new life,
but the furniture rises up
in every room in rebellion,
dependent as house dogs,
yet they do not speak,
they will not speak.

He will not notice his name
falling               from places

meant for his children, 
meant for his time
meant for his autumn, 
meant for his stone; 

nor from the coming winter 
of his father. 
 

[indar]

My oldest son
leans against his truck
after supper.

He waits for spring; to be caught (colon instead of semi? Just asking)
off-guard by the aroma
of lilacs that come and go and
come and go; by the rain
falling and falling; by trees
visiting the sky. (fabulous line. speaks to the temporary nature even of trees)

He waits for summer; for sparrows (again--should it be a colon? I'm still trying to figure out punctuation)
taught to come around 
every hungry day.  He leans 
against his truck while darkness
and the darkening road 
slip

past spring, 
past summer, 
past staying
until light falls; (I love this section, beautiful articulation of the saying: life is what happens while you are waiting for life to happen--wisdom of the parent ) 
until he is sure

of the unalterable road,
his hands in his pockets,
fingering crumbs.

Now he passes into his house:
all its angles, corners, windows,
blameless doors, even now,
unwilling to open.

He wants to invite me
to his house, to his new life,
but the furniture rises up
in every room in rebellion,
dependent as house dogs,
yet they do not speak,
they will not speak. ( I read this as regret the parent has on behalf of the son knowing in advance the realization the son will experience in his future of lost opportunity)

He will not notice his name
falling               from places ( not certain about the blank space---seems a little gimmicky)

meant for his children, 
meant for his time
meant for his autumn, 
meant for his stone; 

nor from the coming winter 
of his father. (stunning)

This is a huge poem. I will revisit it many times I am certain. It has the feel of something that wrote itself. I can't tell you how the progression drew me in, ( I have an oldest daughter)
 

[Dave]

Hey Tim
Overall I think this is the strongest poem you posted here. I love poems that wrap a metaphor in a story and vice versa and poems that embed the large themes in the intimate and personal. I also tend to like repetition and line endings that go against the grain. Having said that one could argue with some endings as being too obvious and too flashy and the final repetition with meant, meant meant is really using a hammer to make a point.
Reads well and packs strong emotional resonance
Dave

[Matty11]

My oldest son
leans against his truck
after supper.

Lovely opening. Really like the 'leans against' - sets the tone.

that come and go and
come and go

The dangling conjunction I'm not sure about, feels mechanical (come makes an appearance in S3 as well, liked the caught/taught echo). I did like the play of waiting to be caught off guard.

He will not notice his name
falling               from places

meant for his children, 
meant for his time
meant for his autumn, 
meant for his stone; 

nor from the coming winter 
of his father. 

There is a lot of staged reading there. The space device works for pause, not so sure about the hammering repetition for build up, there is focus in the gear shift for the concluding line. In general the repetitions bind the poem and reflect a sense of the inescapable.

best

matty
 

[Janet]

Hi Tim. Enjoyed this image and metaphor-filled poem a lot. It seems a couple drafts away from being complete. I'm not sure I can explain my sense of that (that it's not quite "there"). I really enjoy your showing not telling about N's son's resistance to leave and how that contrast with the protectiveness of his newfound independence. 

[Tracy Mitchell]

Hi Tim,

I vacillate between viewing this as the Narrator’s lament for a son now off in the world getting on with his own life, and a lament for a deceased child.  I find evidence in the poem for each view.  [Tim- let me know if I should elaborate.  I lean at the moment toward the former.]

Perhaps the metaphor is intended.  I don’t know.  The poem is currently bigger than my understanding of it.  But I can say my appreciation grows with each reading, which has reached double figures.

I would love to hear the poem read in the author’s voice.  When I read it aloud there are large passages which just sing.  There are a few places where I can’t seem to get it right.  

Other comments:

My oldest son
leans against his truck
after supper.

Great scene setter - introduces the Narrator, the MC, the fact of MC being an adult, their relationship, the time of day, and approx. location - all in 9 words.  

Just a thought- the phrase “his truck” appears again in S.3.  Effectiveness could be increased by referring to “a truck” in either place, to a fresher and slightly different effect. [Let me know if you want me to explain better.]  

He waits for spring; to be caught
off-guard by the aroma
of lilacs that come and go and
come and go; by the rain
falling and falling; by trees
visiting the sky.

Tremendous stanza - to wait to be caught off guard - wow. & trees visiting the sky - very appealing.  Consider deleting “by rain falling and falling”.  Reason: the lack of uniqueness of the image sets it off from the otherwise wonderful lines, the narrative doesn't need it, and its deletion sharpens the trees image.

He waits for summer; for sparrows
taught to come around 
every hungry day.  He leans 
against his truck while darkness
and the darkening road
slip

Another tremendous stanza.   The ‘dark’ repeat works wonderfully, and paces the reading as a nice lead-in to what follows.  My only thought would be to consider replacing “taught” with “anxious”.

past spring, 
past summer, 
past staying
until light falls;
until he is sure

Try as I might, there is no way I can find a way to read this aloud without awkwardness.  When I scan without reading it aloud, I find myself wanting to skip over it.  Until the last two lines, there is little information and no sensory reference.

 One option might be:
/
past the seasons,
past staying until light falls,
until he is sure
/
Time passes - I see the import, but it feels transitional.

of the unalterable road,
his hands in his pockets,
fingering crumbs.

Sweet lines.  “fingering crumbs” - no explanation - the way it should be.  "unalterable road" - finality of death?  Or just the destiny of the American male. 

Now he passes into his house:
all its angles, corners, windows,
blameless doors, even now,
unwilling to open.

This is the big-enigma stanza.  “passes into his house” is an odd way to say a guy goes into his house.  Not an odd way, though, for a ghost/spirit.  So it raises the question.  Then the doors which won’t open because the are unwilling to open.  And “even now” suggests something big in the past - a confrontation, a blow-up, a death?  Lots to ponder.    

He wants to invite me
to his house, to his new life,
but the furniture rises up
in every room in rebellion,
dependent as house dogs,
yet they do not speak,
they will not speak.

This is another puzzling stanza [perhaps in conflict with S.6].  When a person gets out of a traumatic, abusive relationship, family and friends react with delight and relief. When that person starts considering reconciliation, the family and friends “rise up in . . . rebellion”. I can't help but see that sense to this stanza. I can’t see how this fits with the rest of the poem, but in isolation, it suggests to me some conflict between father and son which in the scheme of things is not that unusual.  

My other question is who are “they” in the last two lines?  Grammatically it would seem to be the furniture.  If the dogs, it doesn’t quite get there.  Not meaning to pick, just saying.

He will not notice his name
falling               from places

I can see the big space as cue for how to read, but it stands out in a negative way as there is no other alternate/creative formatting in the poem to match it.  Perhaps a comma, an em-dash, or an ellipse.  

meant for his children, 
meant for his time
meant for his autumn, 
meant for his stone; 

I appreciate the progression, but the repetition isn't ramping up the drama, as I think is intended. It also lengthens the distance from the verb which should drive the last lines in S.10.  This distance lessens the immediacy of the meaning of S.10, lets the reader’s mind wander a moment, and [gasp] maybe dither its way into Game of Thrones thoughts.   

nor from the coming winter 
of his father. 

This is a wonderful closing, beautiful, if cleanup in S.9 is done.

I apologize if these comments simply move the poem from your voice to mine.  Please disregard everything that doesn’t help.

I agree with Indar that this is a big poem.  

Cheers.

T






 

[Tim J Brennan]

Thanks to all the "extensive" comments.  Appreciate your time and suggestions. Very much.

Edit #1

The Greenhouse Effect

My oldest son
leans against his truck
after supper.

He waits for spring—
to be caught off-guard 
by the aroma of lilacs 
that come and go and
come and go

by trees
visiting the sky.

He waits for summer—
for sparrows taught 
to come around 
every hungry day.  

He leans while darkness
and the darkening road slip

past spring, 
past summer, 
past staying
until light falls—

until he is sure
of the unalterable road,
his hands in his pockets,
fingering crumbs.

Now he passes into his house:
past all its angles, corners, windows,
blameless doors, even now,
willing to open.

He wants to invite me
to his house, to his new life,
but the furniture rises
in every room in rebellion,
dependent as house dogs,
yet they do not speak,
they will not speak.

He will not notice his name
falling from places 
meant for his children,
for his autumn, 
for his stone— 

nor from the winter 
of his father. 


 

[Tracy Mitchell]

Tim,

Excellent revision.

Too often an earnest re-write leaves the life-blood drained.  Here, it pumps stronger.

Bravo!

T

[Tim J Brennan]

Tim,

Excellent revision.

Too often an earnest re-write leaves the life-blood drained.  Here, it pumps stronger.

Bravo!

T

Thanks, Tracy. Great suggestions.  From everyone.  I detest rewriting/edits. Necessary evil for hackers. Plays are worse.