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Daily Deviation
April 25, 2014
Let the Sparrows In is an example of hard work at its finest. Nichrysalis spent time and care to wade through the feedback from multiple deviants to cut, rearrange, and craft this fine piece of poetry.
Featured by inknalcohol
Suggested by LiliWrites
Literature Text
I.
Blackbirds rest on the power lines,
their silhouettes form the notation
to a dawn song set on the sheet music
of telephone poles contrasted by the sun.
Curled leaves are land mines littered
on the lawn where imprints of twigs
and a nurturing robin's tracks collect.
Branchlets and leaflets stem from
porch step railings and mailboxes;
the numbers read odd on the east,
even on the west side of the asphalt:
seven-seven-thirty-six.
The engraved letters on
the siding reads, "Davis."
This house is home to family
so let the sparrows in.
The house,
with its branching hallways
and
overhanging décor
and
furniture rooted to the floor
is home
to
family, friends, the occasional
neighbor's kid
locked
out from home.
Let the sparrows in; let
the finches
follow.
Let the door's
deadbolt
loosen—let the door stand ajar
and
be let open
to
the night owls and
morning
larks;
let the doves
alone
to pirouette
in pairs in the iridescent
quiet.
Let the sparrows in.
II.
Framed on either side of the sofa
are photographs of far-off family
with stunted smiles that suggest,
"let's never meet, but live together."
A grandfather clock awakens
and counts with occasional glances
six-thirty…seven…seven-forty-five…
The birdsong past the beige veil
of curtains forecasts daylight.
The hymn of a hummingbird is over-
heard; it holds still, and keeps moving.
This habitat of indoors and outdoors
has neighbors: beings and birds.
They'll never meet, but live together…
…let the sparrows in; let
the starlings start in
after;
let the warblers and
whippoorwills
trill
and whistle alto; let the woodpeckers
drum with
a kick and hi-hat;
let the cuckoo
make friends
with
the grandfather clock
and count the days apart.
Let
the wrens rest in the spare room;
let them make use
of the
acrylics and easel; let the terns
paint portraits of the
high-society cardinals
and
bluejays; let
the swallows reorient
the house
room by room
until they have reached the attic.
let them overstay
their
welcome—
let the sparrows in—
until the
quiet
becomes bearable,
relatable.
Blackbirds rest on the power lines,
their silhouettes form the notation
to a dawn song set on the sheet music
of telephone poles contrasted by the sun.
Curled leaves are land mines littered
on the lawn where imprints of twigs
and a nurturing robin's tracks collect.
Branchlets and leaflets stem from
porch step railings and mailboxes;
the numbers read odd on the east,
even on the west side of the asphalt:
seven-seven-thirty-six.
The engraved letters on
the siding reads, "Davis."
This house is home to family
so let the sparrows in.
The house,
with its branching hallways
and
overhanging décor
and
furniture rooted to the floor
is home
to
family, friends, the occasional
neighbor's kid
locked
out from home.
Let the sparrows in; let
the finches
follow.
Let the door's
deadbolt
loosen—let the door stand ajar
and
be let open
to
the night owls and
morning
larks;
let the doves
alone
to pirouette
in pairs in the iridescent
quiet.
Let the sparrows in.
II.
Framed on either side of the sofa
are photographs of far-off family
with stunted smiles that suggest,
"let's never meet, but live together."
A grandfather clock awakens
and counts with occasional glances
six-thirty…seven…seven-forty-five…
The birdsong past the beige veil
of curtains forecasts daylight.
The hymn of a hummingbird is over-
heard; it holds still, and keeps moving.
This habitat of indoors and outdoors
has neighbors: beings and birds.
They'll never meet, but live together…
…let the sparrows in; let
the starlings start in
after;
let the warblers and
whippoorwills
trill
and whistle alto; let the woodpeckers
drum with
a kick and hi-hat;
let the cuckoo
make friends
with
the grandfather clock
and count the days apart.
Let
the wrens rest in the spare room;
let them make use
of the
acrylics and easel; let the terns
paint portraits of the
high-society cardinals
and
bluejays; let
the swallows reorient
the house
room by room
until they have reached the attic.
let them overstay
their
welcome—
let the sparrows in—
until the
quiet
becomes bearable,
relatable.
Literature
Ice
When the glacier slides,
I'm the one
. . .
lost.
Wondering where the right path is, with doubt biting. Frozen memories, icy distances.
When the world grows colder,
I'm the one
. . .
cracked.
Standing on my own, with the past craving for me. Stolen, missing.
When the snow falls,
I'm the one
. . .
drifting.
Trying my best, to make sense of it all. Wandering, wondering.
When the hail storms,
I'm the one
. . .
walking.
Holding my guard, locking my heart. Smiling, pretending.
Literature
Fragile Magpie Moons
It's only spring when you first wake up,
two magpies and the dull ache of menstrual cramps
tapping on. Death's window
sleeps in all our bones,
a dripping water faucet.
Brittle things--like love,
marlboro midnights,
a jar of not-quite-nothing--
small and fragile and ours
are the presences we carry
while running from the moon.
Literature
desolate
you are a broken house with smashed windows
and ivy growing between your fingers
you are fragile and with every
creaking footstep on the stairs you pray so
hard that you have let the right one in
there will be people,
people with minds so blissfully ignorant that
they walk right through you and do not
see the splintered furniture residing within your
body, you are invisible to them,
and sometimes
you wonder if you are even there
but then there are other people -
people worth staying standing for,
people who will walk in and gently run their
fingers along the parts of yourself that
you forgot were even there,
people who will explore your
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EDIT: 4/25/2014 Thanks LiliWrites for suggesting and GrimFace242 for even considering featuring me. I cannot even begin to express how much work went into this piece and how many people contributed feedback to what it is today. I'm proud of what it is, and it wouldn't have been without their opinions. I'd especially like to thank beeinthebottle, alapip and LiliWrites, who each taught me something unique when constructing this. Be sure to listen to my performance of the piece!
EDIT: 11/11/2013 - I finally revised this and it was nice to revisit this. It was mostly minor changes, but I also did away with the unnecessary capitalization and modified some stanzas, particularly in the first bit. I left the enjambed bits untouched however.
Originally published by the Eunoia Review here: eunoiareview.wordpress.com/201…
Hear me perform the piece HERE (download it).
Critique for theWrittenRevolution packeranatic.deviantart.com/cr… and
Does the enjambment (line breaks) help the flow of the piece? Any parts where the enjambment feels off?
Do the opening lines feel awkward?
Are there too many "Let's"?
Let the sparrows in.....
© 2012 Nic Swaner
EDIT: 11/11/2013 - I finally revised this and it was nice to revisit this. It was mostly minor changes, but I also did away with the unnecessary capitalization and modified some stanzas, particularly in the first bit. I left the enjambed bits untouched however.
Originally published by the Eunoia Review here: eunoiareview.wordpress.com/201…
Hear me perform the piece HERE (download it).
Critique for theWrittenRevolution packeranatic.deviantart.com/cr… and
Does the enjambment (line breaks) help the flow of the piece? Any parts where the enjambment feels off? Do the opening lines feel awkward? Are there too many "Let's"?Let the sparrows in.....
© 2012 Nic Swaner
Comments146
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Overall Vision Originality Technique ImpactI know this is a *very* late review, but I read the poem and particularly liked it. I'm afraid it's more so praise than a critique!
I'll start off by addressing the questions in the description;
there are not too many lets (rather there are just enough, the perfect amount for a poem so titled). I do not personally find the opening lines awkward. I found them very interesting. I had never thought of birds on power lines akin to a musical staff with notes, but upon reading it I found it to be the perfect comparison and had no trouble picturing it. Lastly, most of the breaks added to the flow of the stanzas; at the last part of Section One, I nearly stumbled while reading it, but figured out quickly that the lone 'and's were for emphasis. I would not say anything related to those three topics need be changed.
On to my personal notes;
As some have previously noted, the idea in itself is not entirely unique, but the execution is superior.
I am particularly fond of the musical comparisons and the likes. I adore the opening stanza. I'm in love with this entire stanza;
…let the sparrows in; let
The starlings start in
After;
Let the warblers and
Whippoorwills
Trill
And whistle alto; let the woodpeckers
Drum with
A kick and hi-hat;
Let the cuckoo
Make friends
With
The grandfather clock
And count the days apart.
I'll take a moment to just pull the parts I appreciated most:
Overhanging décor
And
Furniture rooted to the floor
I love a rhyme in free verse that doesn't sound misplaced. All too often people go out of their way to add a rhyme or add one just for the heck of it but end up creating something awkward.
Let the sparrows in; let
The finches
Follow.
Let the door's
Deadbolt
Loosen—let the door stand ajar
Something about four words- 'let the finches follow'-is just so perfect here. I've nothing else to say about those words but that I adore them.
Framed on either side of the sofa
Are photographs of far-off family
With stunted smiles that suggest,
"Let's never meet, but live together."
I almost died when I read this. I'm using the word 'love' more than I should be, but I really just love that last line. It's the sort of line that has connotation almost anyone can relate to. It's so perfectly placed. I like the addition of 'They'll never meet, but live together…' just a few lines later.
You have enviable master of meter and stress. Your word choice was divine for this poem, and the two sections are separate yet obviously not complete without the other.
This poem delivers a huge impact through topics (family, community, ...) so lightly touched upon as not to be flat-out stated at all.
I'm sure I've already stated this, but I adore this poem; the execution is superb and it contains the best comparisons. It's absolutely lovely, you did a fantastic job.