Jeffrey Hull

Mt. Bonnell is a locally famous low mountain overlook in Austin, Texas, where I went to college lo these many years ago. To one side is the vista of Austin, which lies sparkling in the night in my memory, to the other is Lake Travis and the Texas hill country. Richard Lawrence Cohen, who lives in Austin, inspired me to write this piece. It is a sonnet with a "turn" that comes late and "jerks up short."

Mt. Bonnell

Don't know Montana sky, but it was big
That morning up on Austin's Mt. Bonnell;
A train horn sang, a big six engine rig,
A melancholy four a.m. farewell.
The air was spooky clear, those summer nights;
The heavens hung a cooly violet screen
Contrasting the cascade of city lights
Down boulevard and avenue serene.
And how the Earth was still! or so it seemed
That time slowed down across the sleepy land
So we could snatch a moment as it streamed
Below our unassuming prospect, and
Half-listening to the story you were weaving
I almost missed the news that you were leaving.


© 2005 Jeffrey Hull

You mention Richard Cohen as someone who inspred this poem. I am a friend of Richard's and have resd some of your poems on his blog. I enjoy them very much.

I'm back! Somehow my comment went out to your blog before I finished. So.....I just wanted to say that I particularly enjoyed reading MT. BONNELL. I am primarily a visual artist (painter) and I found the imagery very effective. The use of the train was, for me, a wonderful entry into the scale of the environment you were describing. The sense of movement and time that I associate with trains also triggered many thoughts, especially, the time schedules that trains run on. While their schedules are meant to be very precise, it is that precisness that allowed me to absorb your poem in a way that said: " hey, forget about perfection, you are missing something along the way." Not really a comment on "smell the roses," because I feel it was more than that, but instead a "feeling" that brought attention to living! Thanks! I should add that I have always felt that way, but have not experienced it in the way your poem describes it. I have been struggling with poetry myself. I have some very neophyte attrempts on my blog. If you feel you might hve some time I would enjoy any comments. The blog is: lhombre.blogspot.com

Good to find you here Jeffrey. As it happens, we drive over Mt. Bonnell every day on the road to town. It never loses its excitement.

Dilys

I like very much the short comments/introductions(?) to each of your poems. Since I am in the formative stages of attempting to write poetry I hope you will find it complimentary if I at times borrow your approach.
By the way, there was a sadness that I felt during the closing section of MT. BONNELL. It seemed to have something to do with departure; in a very profound way; rather personal. I'm still thinking on it.

A poet, like a magician or humorist, should in general avoid excessive explanation, for it takes the fun out of it for the reader. But I will share some thoughts about the poem.

First thing is that one should never assume that poems are autobiographical. The scene I can remember; the story was invented to use the images in my memory. The final couplet was written almost as the first thing; the first 12 lines were crafted to fit those lines and the overall plan.


Mt. Bonnell

Don't know Montana sky, but it was big
That morning up on Austin's Mt. Bonnell; I purposely wanted a more modern or less formal
approach than my usual style. I also
consciously chose the sonnet format, specifically
because I had a "turn" in mind, as one
witnesses.

A train horn sang, a big six engine rig,
A melancholy four a.m. farewell. The four a.m. farewell sets the poem in the
very early morning/late night. Notice
that each of this and the next 4 line sections end
in periods.

The air was spooky clear, those summer nights;
The heavens hung a cooly violet screen
Contrasting the cascade of city lights
Down boulevard and avenue serene. The imagery was purposely colorful, because the
speaker is getting carried away by the impact
of the scene. Full period at the end of this
section, then ...

And how the Earth was still! or so it seemed
That time slowed down across the sleepy land
So we could snatch a moment as it streamed
Below our unassuming prospect, Now the speaker is really caught up and
lost in the moment ... one sentence runs on
through four lines, ending with a purposefully
placed "and" (which required a rhyming "sleepy
land"):

and
Half-listening to the story you were weaving
I almost missed the news that you were leaving. ... and is so wrapped up in his reverie,
the beauty of the moment, he ignores his
lover telling him that she is leaving him.
Can we blame her? He doesn't listen! (as
someone close to me reminds me from time
to time). Or should our sympathies go
to the speaker? Maybe he really was not
so lost after all; maybe she really did
blindside him. We report—you decide.

Stylistically, the last couplet has 11 beats,
instead of the 10 (iambic pentameter)
of the preceding 12 lines, and this is
intentional; the longer lines, which end
stressed-unstressed (DUH-dum) instead of the
normal iambic ending (duh-DUM) of the previous
12 lines. This abrupt change in meter, coupled
with the abrupt end of the speaker's cloud-9
reverie after the "and" is a parallel to the
jolt he felt when his lover said goodbye.



Keep up your writing, and both practice writing and reading things you like. I write for myself, and hope others will like the results, but in the end it is for my own satisfaction. My style is not particularly fashionable, but that is fine by me. I think most writers write because they "have to," and that's certainly the case with me.