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Grex Poetry Item 145: Building Bridges
Entered by ponder on Fri Nov 5 18:29:56 UTC 1999:

At first, I paced back and forth along the edge
Crying out my frustration at the situation
Blaming it on myself, the world, and him all at once.
Because I was on one side
And he on the other.

Eventually, I awoke and knew a bridge would need to be built
I had built many bridges in the past
I began to think that this bridge should be built by another
I began to urge him to build
But he also began to urge ME to build

At first, I refused to build.
Did I not have calluses enough to prove that I had built?
Would I always be building bridges until the day I died?
Would I never build anything more significant?
I paced furiously, the demon anger gaining strength in me.

In impatience, I loosed the beast
Thinking I could frighten him into building.
To my surprise, the gap between us grew wider
Then I gathered the spent beast back to her cage
And beat myself for releasing her.

But I did not build, I bled instead.
And even blood did not make a bridge appear.
I turned to my maker and asked Him
"Mighty one, how may a bridge come here?"
"Build, " he said, and I wept.

I began slowly to build
There were foundations and struts to be laid
And old, botched work to be removed
Day by day I built, never noticing the work beginning on the other side
Then one day, at last, the work was finished.

I embraced him in the center
And looking up I thanked my maker for my awakening
Then, from the center, I noticed the beauty of what had been built
What he and I had built together
But the work is far from over

There will always be bridges to build
We cannot wait, cursing, for bridges to appear
Or for friends to build them, though some may.
We must clear away the botched work
And start building our bridges today.

--Sorry, folks, this one's a little long.  It's essentially just me 
putting down some feelings on paper that I had discovered just recently.

4 responses total.

#1 of 4 by lumen on Fri Nov 5 23:37:33 1999:

This brainstorming has some really good potential-- think of 
alternative phrases for "to build," if that would be a helpful start.

Avoid a "moral of the story" ending unless you intend to influence the 
poem by that storytelling style, i.e., if it doesn't flow like that 
kind of story, you might want to drop it.

Awesome.  I can't wait to see how this turns out.

#2 of 4 by flem on Sun Nov 7 05:04:36 1999:

Oh, that's not long.  :)

I think this has real potential to be the framework for something with 
real depth.  Some images that I think might help add another layer of 
meaning or two:  
  - the "gap" as a wound, and the bridges of the past as stitches 
    closing the wound
  - perhaps water, under teh bridges?  Maybe the water under these 
    bridges is the blood that has flowed from the wound?
  - extend the metaphor of love as a process of building.  Love builds 
    other things besides bridges, and one of the reasons that bridges
    are so hard to build is that it looks like one is doing it alone.  
    Yet, you have to have bridges before you can build (or perhaps 
    repair?) the towers.  

Don't be afraid of running long.  You can compact it later, but say what 
needs to be said first.  

This is, IMO, the most promising thing I've seen of yours recently.  I 
hope you will keep working on it.

#3 of 4 by orinoco on Sun Nov 7 07:07:05 1999:

I agree with Jon that the summing-up ending is unnecessary, and comes across
as a bit too obvious.  That said, I'm not sure where I'd end the poem instead.

It seems like there are two ways you could treat this.  One is as Flem
suggests: -- flesh out the imagery of the poem more, treat this as a framework
that you can elaborate on.  I like the images that he suggests, and you can
probably come up with more of your own; you might want to try writing some
free-association off of this, and seeing what usable images you end up with.

The other way would be to go with the way you have this poem now.  There are
places where I think this very spare, storytelling style _works_: 
   "Did I not have calluses enough to prove that I had built?
    Would I always be building bridges until the day I died?
    Would I never build anything more significant?"  
is one part that struck me; also
   "But I did not build, I bled instead.
   And even blood did not make a bridge appear.
   I turned to my maker and asked Him
   "Mighty one, how may a bridge come here?"
   "Build," he said, and I wept."
I'm not sure if this was the intended effect, but these parts remind me
very much of the sort of phrasing you hear in the Bible; I especially like
the contrast in the second between the passive ("how might a bridge come
here") and the active ("build") approaches.  I think if you could bring
the rest of the piece in line with these passages, it could work very well
without very much in the way of elaborate imagery.  I don't tend to write
that way, so I'm not sure how much specific advice I can give you there,
though.

#4 of 4 by ponder on Tue Nov 9 18:53:36 1999:

Good stuff.  I'll come back later and make copies.
Thanks again, guys.

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