I don't fly much, but in 2006 I had to fly back from Vancouver to Toronto. I had taken sick out there and knew I was too ill for the 3 day train ride. 

Coming down from (not Kamloops - can't think of the town, which also begins with a K), it was necessary to catch the flight home in Vancouver. 

As we landed, we first circled over the strait (whaddya callit, I've forgotten). Where the black water is - it's called something to that effect. 

But the clouds ... this poem here describes my reaction to that. I was so fascinated I forgot two things;

1) I was flying!

2) I was sick.

I know I'm supposed to give critique in this section - forgive me, but I'm still taking in the two versions of the poem, and reading what the others have suggested.

My only thought on it was to remove the IFS, ANDS, etc. And yes - there's no reason for 'majestic'. If you don't want to let go of the word, maybe use 'majesty' somewhere.

It's a lovely poem, with startling images.

Carly

sunilmathur wrote on Jan 6^th, 2012 at 6:13pm:



Hi Sunil, your poem brings back some memories of being in a small plane. What I remember most, apart from seeing a hurricane nearby - in a larger plane, was the buffetting we received.

Hope something helps, Terence

Hi Sunil

OK, This is a technique I am trying to teach you, not a critique. Please allow me to use the content of your original script to create a completely new poem as an example.

What I will do is cut out all un-necessary words and then use the material left to directly paint a fantasy scene. No narrators opinions and thoughts, no simile – just pure fantasy. The reader knows from the introduction exactly where you are in reality. 

Then the ending must be powerful to leave the reader in suspense. Don’t be sacred to embellish liberally, take poetic licence where you can, remember it’s not a documentary of what the writer actually saw (no-one is really interested) but how the image stimulated your imagination. Those fleeting thoughts are  made into real (fantasy) characters that impact emotionally on the writer but this impact is implied not stated.

There are three parts to this scene;

1.      Set the stage to place the reader in the location you want him.(In this case, in a small vulnerable aircraft uncomfortably close to the Himalayas. ) We don’t really want the reader in a safe airliner twenty thousand feet up and abstractly observing some clouds passing below. We want him involved and a little insecure so use the terms “we, us, our” rather than “me, I, my” )
2.      Embellish the scene and introduce characters and actions. Those that you imagined at the time are perfectly good. 
3.      To create a dramatic ending that would have been terrifying, the boundary  between fantasy and reality is deliberately blurred and an element of danger introduced. Then leave the reader suspended in mid flight with almost a prayer on his lips.

Lastly, choose a title that will attract a reader as well as pre-loading an idea into his mind.

This is just my example of how I would go about it, but of course it’s your poem so you may do it any way you please. I hope you find this useful or at least as inspiring as your original poem was to me.

Cheers,

Wally


[quote][b]Flying with Monsters[/b]

Icy fingers slice down from the Himalayas 
to buffet our little plane climbing out from Kathmandu.

Emerald forest, deeply cut by meandering rivers 
provides a quilted stage on which 
vaporous cloud formations gather.
Mythical creatures rise to dance
between gleaming snow-capped peaks and clouds.

A white rampant lion rears high, roaring at the heavens.
Straddling mountaintops, it claws 
at the very parapets of Olympus but
moments later is masterfully subdued 
by a graceful goddess clad in a flowing satin gown. 
Wraithlike subjects rise respectfully to applaud the drama 
before dissolving into a fluffy curtain
that closes on a fairytale scene.

Banking hard to skirt the mile high backdrop, 
our aircraft plunges directly into the smoking maw 
of an outlandish raging dragon where
sky, mountain and cloud become one.

In the lap of gods we fly.
[/quote]

Wally,

Yes, that is what I was trying to say while directing my advice at the work specifically;
but I think your spot-on, I feel emotionally charged in the first version, and yet
the second is clearer.

Namaste,
~Tim

Thanks Tim for your reply. In clarification of the point raised by you, it may be stated that the mountains described at the beginning were those seen just below, as the plane was ascending from Kathmandu. These were covered with lush green forests without any snow. Later, a few snow clad peaks also became visible in the distant horizon. It is these that have been referred to in the last portion of the poem. I am not able to figure out how to clarify this point in the poem.

Namaste
Sunil

Thanks Joe and Tim for your comments. What I understood from them is that there is some confusion because of the use of the word 'illusion' used in connection with various shapes in which clouds appear. Maybe the word 'illusion' doesn't convey the meaning properly. If we have ever observed clouds intently from an aeroplane, we might agree that they do appear in all types of shapes resembling various physical objects, such as fluffy balls of cotton, or an animal like a lion, or a human being, or even a goddess (maybe the reference to Greek goddess was unnecessary). In keeping with your opinions, I am now presenting the initial version, as it was more concise.
Namaste.
Sunil

There seems to be way too much verbiage, too many descriptive words, it becomes over rich and cloying.  The pieces intent I think is to contrast some sort of illusion, which occurs to the poet after a lengthy description.  Followed with another description somehow maybe being the reality as a contrast for the illusion of a "Greek Goddess".   

The poem needs a lot of paring down, and in truth it doesn't seem like the contrast, if that was what was intended is established enough to be a contrast.

But, from "the plane
wandered into 
clouds like mountains of snow
encircled us on all sides,
outshining the real snowy peaks
which they hid from view,
as they hid everything else,
even the blue sky
scarcely visible through crevices."

That part of the poem is terrific.

Joe