Faron Samford

                   “Dawn”

Daybreak intrudes on the slumbering,

safe in cocoons of linen and silk.

Synthetic buzzes and bells sever the silence

and alarm of night melting to day,

while the sleeping plead a respite

from a future faced when lids part.

Morning rays soften sleep’s spell,

and light bursts into shrinking pupils.

Images live, no longer imagined.

The acrid taste of life’s clarity.

Revision Account

Breaking Dawn

                Poetry has always been the monster in the closet for me as a literature major. I have always done my best to avoid classes based heavily on poetry, knowing that it was not one of my strong points and has been a stumbling block for me in the past. The assignment of writing a literary poem for this class struck me with no small amount of dread and panic. I have always been able to write cute love poems that were well accepted by the desired recipients, but seriously lacking in literary value. When our first reading assignment warned against writing love poems, I decided to make the topic of my poem go against my natural tendencies and write about something that I do not love, waking up.

                My first set of revisions was based on the suggestions of Nicole Bippen, another student in our class. The second line of the poem initially read, “snuggled in cocoons of linen and silk.” She felt that the word “snuggled” was unnecessary and sounded a little childish, which I agreed with, but did not particularly like her alternate suggestion so I worked this one more later. In the next line, she disliked the word “artificial,” which I heeded her suggestion and changed to “synthetic,” because it went along with the consonance I was trying to create with the “s” sound.  I also incorporated a couple of other word changes from her suggestions,  but the biggest suggestion that I chose to use was the breaking of the poem into two stanzas, separating the last four lines into a separate stanza.

                My next round of revisions came through an afternoon session where I had my friend, J.C. Carroll, read over my poem where we could sit and bounce ideas off of each other. With his assistance, I was able to improve the final two lines of the poem and make them sound as he said, “more poetic.” Nicole thought playing with “life” as both an adjective and as a noun was good but could use rewording. I am really pleased with the final phrasing and have to reluctantly admit that placing a period after “imagined” creates a more powerful shift than does a comma, even though I argued well otherwise when we originally discussed it.

With an email that I received the night before the assignment was due from Tiffany Harris, I managed to fix two lines that I had never liked.  In the original draft, these lines were highlighted in red when originally typed as a placeholder to finish the rest of the poem. The last two lines of what are now the first stanza, were also mentioned by Nicole as problematic and too vague. She felt they didn’t make it clear who was “pleading a few moments reprieve,” all four of us were in agreement, but none of us could find a solution that I was pleased with.  While not completely pleased with how it appears in the final version, “while the sleeping plead a respite from a future faced when lids part,” I think this line has come a long way and still will evolve more in the future.

                I’m pleased with the version of “Dawn” that I am submitting, but would definitely not consider it in its final version. Having always been wary of poetry, this assignment was very daunting to me at first. The experience of revising “Dawn” has been an enjoyable one, and has sparked the creative process in my mind, and I have been writing down short lines that come into my head to save for later poems.

Original Version:

“Dawn”

Daybreak intrudes on the slumbering,

snuggled in cocoons of linen and silk.

Artificial buzzes and bells snap the silence

and alert of night morphing to day.

Pleading a few moments reprieve

from the future to face at lids parting.

Morning rays weaken sleep’s spell,

and the light bursts upon pupils shrinking.

Images live, no longer imagined with an

acrid taste of life’s clarity.