Not For The Thin-Skinned

[jthserra]

I like what you have done here...

2nd revision:

His Dresden Boots


Troubled below air force mementos,
grandfather’s flying boots buckled
with a certain red weight. They’d long lost
their tan and absorbed an umber wrinkle,
a day burnt from its morning peace.

I remember the embers in his eyes as he said
they were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again.
And that they talked to him. While he confessed,

heat flushed his scored face
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
the silence and stillness, stay with you
just like souvenirs.

I like what you did here, the infusion of the burnt day, embers (nicely rhyming with remember), and heat flushed brought the association to Dresden into the poem. His presence there is supported in the poem, subtle hints that add depth to the observations.

I liked relics better than momentos, the hint that grandfather was perhaps a relic too was interesting, but I mostly liked the flow of the first line better with the two syllable relics, than with the three syllable sound of momentos.

The only thing that still throws me is the wording of the second to last line: "How ears hear from far away sounds / they know are there." The thought is explained some in the final line, but I am still left wondering exactly what you are saying in this line. Is it: "How ears hear from far away ........ sounds / they know are there." ? I wonder if a slightly modified line break or a bit of puntuation would guide the reader here:

"How ears hear from far away / sounds they know are there." or perhaps

"How ears hear from far away -- sounds / they know are there."

Just a thought here.

I do like the revisions you made.

jim : )

 

[PatCarrington]

I like what you did here, the infusion of the burnt day, embers (nicely rhyming with remember), and heat flushed brought the association to Dresden into the poem. His presence there is supported in the poem, subtle hints that add depth to the observations.

I liked relics better than momentos, the hint that grandfather was perhaps a relic too was interesting, but I mostly liked the flow of the first line better with the two syllable relics, than with the three syllable sound of momentos.

The only thing that still throws me is the wording of the second to last line: "How ears hear from far away sounds / they know are there." The thought is explained some in the final line, but I am still left wondering exactly what you are saying in this line. Is it: "How ears hear from far away ........ sounds / they know are there." ? I wonder if a slightly modified line break or a bit of puntuation would guide the reader here:

"How ears hear from far away / sounds they know are there." or perhaps

"How ears hear from far away -- sounds / they know are there."

Just a thought here.

I do like the revisions you made.

jim : )

thanks, jim.

i think it has improved also, and i had already put "relics" back before you posted this. it just sits better, especially on the tongue.

i know what you mean about the line you question - i have reworded, broke differently, but i keep coming back to there. it seems to read okay to me, maybe because i have been reading Bill Knott lately and am getting used to lines that at first glance seem to have misplaced words.

'far-away' seems like it could be an adjective for 'sounds' at first, but without the hyphen in it, i think a good reader will pause before the word 'sounds' - i agree maybe a line break after 'away/,' or punctuation, would force the slight, needed pause.

jim -- i want to thank you for your insights all through this thread. i know they took time to consider and write, and they have been both keen and well-stated.

patrick

 

[twelveoone]

I wonder if a slightly modified line break or a bit of puntuation would guide the reader here:

"How ears hear from far away / sounds they know are there." or perhaps

"How ears hear from far away -- sounds / they know are there."

Just a thought here.

I do like the revisions you made.

jim : )

a bit of punctuation...would also slow it down

Pat, you are amazing, a possible suggestion. Roll this over for a few days, just so you know its yours, come back and post the edit, next to the original.

 

[PatCarrington]

a bit of punctuation...would also slow it down

Pat, you are amazing, a possible suggestion. Roll this over for a few days, just so you know its yours, come back and post the edit, next to the original.

1201

i've been playing with the pace of the last stanza. it does indeed read better, i think, slowed down a bit.

you have good ears. you too, jim.

revised:


His Dresden Boots


Troubled below air force relics,
grandfather’s flying boots buckled
with a certain red weight. They’d long lost
their tan and absorbed an umber wrinkle,
a day burnt from its morning peace.

I remember the embers in his eyes as he said
they were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again.
And that they talked to him. While he confessed,

heat flushed his scored face
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away — sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
the silence and stillness, stay with you,
just like souvenirs.

 

[Angeline]

His Dresden Boots


Troubled below air force relics,
grandfather’s flying boots buckled
with a certain red weight. They’d long lost
their tan and absorbed an umber wrinkle,
a day burnt from its morning peace.

This is much better now, clearer. I don't like the last line though because "a day" seems counter to their (the boots) having buckled and changed color over time. Could you say something like "days burnt past morning's peace"? Or are you trying to say that they'd turned into a "day..." metaphorically, of course, but it's not clear to me.

I remember the embers in his eyes as he said
they were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again.
And that they talked to him. While he confessed,

"both on the floor and his feet forever"? Why repeat "on the"? Comma after "again" and lowercase "and"

heat flushed his scored face
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.

I don't like "of." Still. lol. just sayin

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away — sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
the silence and stillness, stay with you,
just like souvenirs.

line 4--I think "real" would work better than "there" unless maybe you say "still there"

 

[annaswirls]

Sidewalk

Last December, when I first came here, I posted this poem. Senna Jawa gave me lessons I will never forget. He changed my poetry. I still read pieces of his comment in my head. I have made revisions but I do not feel comfortable with it yet.

Here is the original.

Sidewalk


after suggestions from thread

Sidewalk

We walk on the street
beside the yellow plastic fence
that sags low between wooden stakes.

Meghan ignores the sign:
Sidewalk closed
Her eyes are focused high
and into the distance.

She hops over open slits and rusted rebar
without hesitation.

When did she become this woman
who leads us past glowing signs:
- pawn shop - checks cashed - bail bonds - liquor
navigating the city streets as she once
led me through hay bale mazes
to a new litter of barn cats.

She doesn't ask me questions anymore:
Why can't cats have puppies?
Why doesn't rain ever fall up?

In her tutu, tap shoes and torn knees,
I held her hand as we walked
through alfalfa in the mist of a cloud
not yet having learned how to fly.


But today we step over oily rainbow puddles,
steam grates and broken bottles.
In her reflection off the used bookstore windows
I try to read the questions she does not ask:

How long will this hurt
Will I ever recognize myself in my own body
What are you hiding from us

The sidewalk was closed,
we walked on the street.




Sidewalk (original to this thread)


Sidewalk closed
we walk on the street.
Yellow plastic mesh
sags between wooden stakes
protecting us from danger.

Meghan ignores the sign:
please use the other side.
Her eyes are high
and far ahead,

No harm will come today

hopping open slits and rusted rebar
without hesitation.


When did she become this woman
that leads the way past pawn shops
checks cashed, bail, bond, liquor stores
welfare lines just glaring at the men
surprised to see this tall tight white girl
with such a fine ass in this part of town.

Her questions have stopped:


Why can’t dogs have kittens
Does the rain ever fall up

Air wet with a promise of rain
we had walked through the mist of a cloud
who had forgotten how to fly.
Tutu, tap shoes, skinned knees,
grass stained softball shirt—
on the verge of becoming something.

Who is leading, who is following?
Neither of us know where we are going
we just follow each other.


Today, we step over oily rainbow puddles
in front of dusty consignment shop windows.

Now the answers that matter
she dare not ask:

How long will this hurt
What happens if you sit too still
Will I ever recognize myself in my own body
What are you hiding from us

The sidewalk was closed
we walked on the street.

 

[PatCarrington]

His Dresden Boots


Troubled below air force relics,
grandfather’s flying boots buckled
with a certain red weight. They’d long lost
their tan and absorbed an umber wrinkle,
a day burnt from its morning peace.

This is much better now, clearer. I don't like the last line though because "a day" seems counter to their (the boots) having buckled and changed color over time. Could you say something like "days burnt past morning's peace"? Or are you trying to say that they'd turned into a "day..." metaphorically, of course, but it's not clear to me.

thanks for this, ange.

yes, i am saying they turned into a "day", metaphorically. into "the" day.

the color change was not over time, but happened then.

doesn't it read this way?:

They’d long lost their tan and absorbed an umber wrinkle,
absorbed a day burnt from its morning peace. <----the second "absorbed" being understood.


I remember the embers in his eyes as he said
they were both on the floor and on his feet forever,
that he would never wear nor remove them again.
And that they talked to him. While he confessed,

"both on the floor and his feet forever"? Why repeat "on the"? Comma after "again" and lowercase "and"

only 'on' is repeated, and it is done to ensure the understanding that the boots are in 2 places at once - on the floor (physically) and on his feet (emotionally)....to write it this way:

they were both on the floor and his feet leaves open the interpretation that the boots are physically on his feet, no?

heat flushed his scored face
like the leather’s oiled-in penance,
like wood stained of pierced palms.
Like being judged.

I don't like "of." Still. lol. just sayin

i know. i know.

I know what he meant now, how a man
carries his steps like stones to the grave.
How ears hear from far away — sounds
they know are there. How aftermath,
the silence and stillness, stay with you,
just like souvenirs.

line 4--I think "real" would work better than "there" unless maybe you say "still there"

hadn't thought of that...i need to think that one out.

thanks very much, wonderful one.

you may go back to the pinot grigio now.

 

[PatCarrington]

Last December, when I first came here, I posted this poem. Senna Jawa gave me lessons I will never forget. He changed my poetry. I still read pieces of his comment in my head. I have made revisions but I do not feel comfortable with it yet.

Here is the original.

Sidewalk


Sidewalk
by annaswirls ©

Sidewalk closed
we walk on the street.
Yellow plastic mesh
sags between wooden stakes
protecting us from danger.

Meghan ignores the sign:
please use the other side.
Her eyes are high
and far ahead,

No harm will come today

hopping open slits and rusted rebar
without hesitation.


When did she become this woman
that leads the way past pawn shops
checks cashed, bail, bond, liquor stores
welfare lines just glaring at the men
surprised to see this tall tight white girl
with such a fine ass in this part of town.

Her questions have stopped:


Why can’t dogs have kittens
Does the rain ever fall up

Air wet with a promise of rain
we had walked through the mist of a cloud
who had forgotten how to fly.
Tutu, tap shoes, skinned knees,
grass stained softball shirt—
on the verge of becoming something.

Who is leading, who is following?
Neither of us know where we are going
we just follow each other.


Today, we step over oily rainbow puddles
in front of dusty consignment shop windows.

Now the answers that matter
she dare not ask:

How long will this hurt
What happens if you sit too still
Will I ever recognize myself in my own body
What are you hiding from us

The sidewalk was closed
we walked on the street.

i am sure that anna put this poem up looking for the same kind of deep scrutiny and critique mine received.

that is what this thread is for -- critique and revision -- and no holds barred commentary. all comments are welcome, long or short. anything that will help the writer see through "other eyes".

the tremendous response i received helped me greatly.

i know anna wants the same, or this poem wouldn't be up here.

i do not have the time now to critique this anna, but i will in the next day or two.

 

[Angeline]

thanks very much, wonderful one.

you may go back to the pinot grigio now.

You're welcome. And for the record, at the moment it's coffee. Vino later with dinner, I think.

 

[annaswirls]

i am sure that anna put this poem up looking for the same kind of deep scrutiny and critique mine received.

that is what this thread is for -- critique and revision -- and no holds barred commentary. all comments are welcome, long or short. anything that will help the writer see through "other eyes".

the tremendous response i received helped me greatly.

i know anna wants the same, or this poem wouldn't be up here.

i do not have the time now to critique this anna, but i will in the next day or two.

I do not expect to get that kind of response- anything would be great

like lose the second line. it is unnecessary

the end



I am just giving this a try.

No rush or expetation Patrick, my time is pressed as well.

Thanks!

Jennifer

 

[flyguy69]

Well, to start with I would change "answers" to "questions" in the third-to-the-last stanza.

The cloud metaphor doesn't add anything for me. It establishes details of the day, but you have done that sufficiently earlier. It doesn't seem to recapitulate innocence since it "has forgotten how to fly," nor the menace of maturity. It seems more of a response to Meghan's childhood question, but doesn't really answer that, either.

I would do more with the sagging plastic-- this seems like a wonderful opportunity to talk about fences and fence failures.

I miss the gravity in the question "What happens if you sit too still?"

Those are my thoughts.

I do not expect to get that kind of response- anything would be great

like lose the second line. it is unnecessary

the end



I am just giving this a try.

No rush or expetation Patrick, my time is pressed as well.

Thanks!

Jennifer

 

[sack]

A few reflections on Anna's poem...

I think this has a lot of things going for it. Just a few comments:



Sidewalk
by annaswirls ©

Sidewalk closed
we walk on the street.
Yellow plastic mesh
sags between wooden stakes
protecting us from danger.

(Why is important that the mesh protects us from "danger"? If it is truly "sagging between wooden stakes" it's not going to protect us from a whole lot. How about "a reminder of a once proud awning" for the last line?

Meghan ignores the sign:
please use the other side.
Her eyes are high
and far ahead,

(again, why is it significant to use the other side? Construction? Her eyes are high meaning what....she isn't looking down?)

No harm will come today
(Should harm come from walking on a sidewalk? If yes, why?)

hopping open slits and rusted rebar

(could a slit possibly be "closed"? Most people who aren't into construction will probably not know what "rebar" is. Another possibility here: "hopping sinuous cracks and rusted pipes"

without hesitation.

(This could have ended the other line rather than dangle like this)

When did she become this woman
that leads the way past pawn shops
checks cashed, bail, bond, liquor stores
welfare lines just glaring at the men
surprised to see this tall tight white girl
with such a fine ass in this part of town.

(how about "who" instead of "that" to make her more human. Now we know why there is danger...she is a white girl in a minority neighborhood. I don't like the "Welfare lines....." because as written it sounds as if the lines themselves are glaring at the men! Try this:

walking by welfare lines
glaring at the men
surprised to see this tall white girl
etc.

Her questions have stopped:

(but they haven't stopped, you're about to give two examples. Could you use "Her questions remain?")

Why can’t dogs have kittens
Does the rain ever fall up

Air wet with a promise of rain
we had walked through the mist of a cloud
who had forgotten how to fly.
Tutu, tap shoes, skinned knees,
grass stained softball shirt—
on the verge of becoming something.

(what happened to the danger suggested by the surprised men? Now we have this relatively benign section. Can you relate the two better? For example:

Air wet with a promise of rain
We left the surprised faces behind
walking through the mist of a cloud
who had forgotten how to fly

Who is leading, who is following?
Neither of us know where we are going
we just follow each other.

(If they don't know where they are going, then why are they in this presumably dangerous neighborhood to begin with?)

Today, we step over oily rainbow puddles
in front of dusty consignment shop windows.

(why do you need "today"? It's obviously not yesterday, or tomorrow? One possibility, to avoid the repetition of "we" at the beginning of the line:

Gingerly, we step over oily rainbow puddles (or Carefully,.....)

Now the answers that matter
she dare not ask:

How long will this hurt
What happens if you sit too still
Will I ever recognize myself in my own body
What are you hiding from us

(this is way too complicated for this short poem. Four possible tangents, just dropped on the reader from nowhere. I would pick ONE possibility and expand on it. For example: )

How long will this hurt
Why do I cry after dark
Will I ever recognize myself in my own body
What will make me trust again

(This is a little less loose than your original paragraph and more centered)

The sidewalk was closed
we walked on the street.

(This is almost a little bit too easy, merely repeating the opening. A couple of possibilities:

But as time seemed to stand still
I heard the answers in the wind

or

I listened, but heard nothing
but the wind caressing
the yellow plastic mesh

The sidewalk was closed
we walked on the street

(that transitions to the opening a little less abruptly!)

Whew! This poem wore me out, it's so full of emotion. If one or two of these comments are beneficial to you, I'll be happy. Best of luck with it!!

Sack

 

[annaswirls]

Well, to start with I would change "answers" to "questions" in the third-to-the-last stanza.

The cloud metaphor doesn't add anything for me. It establishes details of the day, but you have done that sufficiently earlier. It doesn't seem to recapitulate innocence since it "has forgotten how to fly," nor the menace of maturity. It seems more of a response to Meghan's childhood question, but doesn't really answer that, either.

I would do more with the sagging plastic-- this seems like a wonderful opportunity to talk about fences and fence failures.

I miss the gravity in the question "What happens if you sit too still?"

Those are my thoughts.

Thank you for your comments, and for reading my poem. I will take them all into consideration as I try to rework this again.

~J

 

[annaswirls]

Sack

I think this has a lot of things going for it. Just a few comments:



Sidewalk
by annaswirls ©

Sidewalk closed
we walk on the street.
Yellow plastic mesh
sags between wooden stakes
protecting us from danger.

(Why is important that the mesh protects us from "danger"? If it is truly "sagging between wooden stakes" it's not going to protect us from a whole lot. How about "a reminder of a once proud awning" for the last line?

yellow mesh was supposed to be construction site fence

Meghan ignores the sign:
please use the other side.
Her eyes are high
and far ahead,

(again, why is it significant to use the other side? Construction? Her eyes are high meaning what....she isn't looking down?)

No harm will come today
(Should harm come from walking on a sidewalk? If yes, why?)

first line might not have been enough to convey the message that the sidewalk was closed for construction, yet from your rebar comment, it did make you think of construction at some point. Do people really not know what rebar is? It is so cool

hopping open slits and rusted rebar

(could a slit possibly be "closed"? Most people who aren't into construction will probably not know what "rebar" is. Another possibility here: "hopping sinuous cracks and rusted pipes"

without hesitation.

(This could have ended the other line rather than dangle like this)

When did she become this woman
that leads the way past pawn shops
checks cashed, bail, bond, liquor stores
welfare lines just glaring at the men
surprised to see this tall tight white girl
with such a fine ass in this part of town.

(how about "who" instead of "that" to make her more human. Now we know why there is danger...she is a white girl in a minority neighborhood. (that was not intended to be the dangerous part, she felt secure, I have to look at it again) I don't like the "Welfare lines....." because as written it sounds as if the lines themselves are glaring at the men! Try this:

walking by welfare lines
glaring at the men
surprised to see this tall white girl
etc.

Her questions have stopped:

(but they haven't stopped, you're about to give two examples. Could you use "Her questions remain?")

Why can’t dogs have kittens
Does the rain ever fall up

Air wet with a promise of rain
we had walked through the mist of a cloud
who had forgotten how to fly.
Tutu, tap shoes, skinned knees,
grass stained softball shirt—
on the verge of becoming something.

(what happened to the danger suggested by the surprised men? Now we have this relatively benign section. Can you relate the two better? For example:

these were childhood questions

Air wet with a promise of rain
We left the surprised faces behind
walking through the mist of a cloud
who had forgotten how to fly

Who is leading, who is following?
Neither of us know where we are going
we just follow each other.

(If they don't know where they are going, then why are they in this presumably dangerous neighborhood to begin with?)

Today, we step over oily rainbow puddles
in front of dusty consignment shop windows.

(why do you need "today"? to distinguish it from the past scene I described

It's obviously not yesterday, or tomorrow? One possibility, to avoid the repetition of "we" at the beginning of the line:

Gingerly, we step over oily rainbow puddles (or Carefully,.....)

Now the answers that matter
she dare not ask:

How long will this hurt
What happens if you sit too still
Will I ever recognize myself in my own body
What are you hiding from us

(this is way too complicated for this short poem. Four possible tangents, just dropped on the reader from nowhere. I would pick ONE possibility and expand on it. For example: )

How long will this hurt
Why do I cry after dark
Will I ever recognize myself in my own body
What will make me trust again

(This is a little less loose than your original paragraph and more centered)

The sidewalk was closed
we walked on the street.

(This is almost a little bit too easy, merely repeating the opening. A couple of possibilities:

But as time seemed to stand still
I heard the answers in the wind

or

I listened, but heard nothing
but the wind caressing
the yellow plastic mesh

The sidewalk was closed
we walked on the street

(that transitions to the opening a little less abruptly!)

Whew! This poem wore me out, it's so full of emotion. If one or two of these comments are beneficial to you, I'll be happy. Best of luck with it!!

Sack

Thank you so much Sack! I appreciate your taking the time in reading, thinking about it, and commenting. I did not intend my comments to be arguments-- just wanted to answer your stated questions. I will look at all of those areas and see if I can't clarify.

Thanks again,

J

 

[*Catbabe*]

Here are some of my thoughts Anna. I made comments on the original poem and then tried to show you what I meant or might change.

I would add a few small words to the first two lines but that it just my personal preference. I would move “sags” up to end the third line for a stronger effect.

The sidewalk is closed.
We walk the street past
yellow plastic mesh that sags
between wooden stakes
protecting us from danger.


In the second stanza, I would end the first line with a period because I think it's a really important point at you want the reader to fully stop there.

Meghan ignores the sign.
Please use the other side.
Her eyes are high, focused
far ahead. She hops open slits
and rusted rebar without hesitation.



As a reader this (No harm will come today) comes across as the young woman’s unconscious thought and to me it doesn’t ring true with the way young people think. Older people impose that “young people think no harm will come today” on the younger people but young people themselves just don’t consider it as a possibility. That’s a long way of saying that I would leave out that line because I think the attitude it presents is represented already in her actions.

I would say that “the way” is unnecessary here because you tell us where she leads and I think choosing maybe three examples might make the “way” stronger.

Would it make your idea even stronger if you said, “When did she become this woman who leads me past…” ?

When did she become this woman
who leads me past pawn shops,
liquor stores and welfare lines,
glaring at the men who gawk
at the tall white girl whose fine ass
lives on the other side of town.


I think that her questions haven’t stopped but the voice in the poem mourns the fact that she has stopped being asked the questions. What about this…

She doesn’t ask me anymore.
Why can’t dogs have kittens?
Does the rain ever fall up?

We have walked through air
wet with a promise of rain
in clouds that had forgotten
how to fly. Tutu, tap shoes,
and skinned knees on the verge
of becoming. Today we step

If it was me I would leave out the italic parts (Who is leading, who is following?
Neither of us know where we are going we just follow each other) here because I think those questions are already in the head of any reader by the images you have places in front of them. I played with the breaks in this stanza to see if it could get a more directed feel to it. As it was, it seemed filled with great images that didn’t seem to be displayed to their full potential. It’s a lot to say…I probably didn’t come close to grabbing it all either in my feeble attempt at some help.



I took out some of the overt questions at the end, again, thinking that the reader might already be feeling the loss of communication between the two people without you having to tell them what they might be wanting to talk about. I see the benefits of having them in there though, but I think maybe if you put the questions she “dare not ask” maybe you should just put in two to balance with the earlier ones from her childhood.

over oily rainbow puddles
in front of dusty shop windows
walking in silence
until one of us wonders why
the sidewalk is closed today.


Finally, I know this thread is supposed to be all tough guy slice and dice critique but I gotta say that I loved this poem. I think it was the first thing of Anna’s that I read. I loved what she captured here and if anything I messed with changed that well then, I should be shot.

I am a re-writer when I critique mainly because I just don’t have a lot of time to explain what I think should be moved or cut out but if you ever want to know why I switched or added something I would be happy to answer. Just ask. The suggestions as to other possible ways of structuring things were added only with the intention of letting you see another way of doing things not to say the original way was wrong.

Best,

T.

 

[annaswirls]

sidewalk: edited revision

Sidewalk

We walk on the street
beside the yellow plastic fence
that sags low between wooden stakes.

Meghan ignores the sign:
Sidewalk closed
Her eyes are focused high
and into the distance.

She hops over open slits and rusted rebar
without hesitation.

When did she become this woman
who leads us past glowing signs:
- pawn shop - checks cashed - bail bonds - liquor
navigating the city streets as she once
led me through hay bale mazes
to a new litter of barn cats.

She doesn't ask questions anymore:
Why can't cats have puppies?
Why doesn't rain ever fall up?

In her tutu, tap shoes and torn knees,
I held her hand as we walked
through alfalfa in the mist of a cloud
not yet having learned how to fly.


But today we step over oily rainbow puddles,
steam grates and broken bottles.
In her reflection off the used bookstore windows
I try to read the questions she does not ask:

How long will this hurt
Will I ever recognize myself in my own body
What are you hiding from us

The sidewalk was closed,
we walked on the street.

 

[annaswirls]

T-- Thank you for your suggestions, they are well thought out and you clearly have great ideas. I do not mind AT ALL having you rewrite the parts you would like to see changed. To me, that is the easiest to understand.

Also, I think that tough critiques can (and should) point out the parts the you think work, because in an edit, the writer might cut out your favorite part.


I was revising it while you were critiquing it, and some of the proposed changes were made! But many were not. I am going to go check it out.


I like how you pasted the poem and made your comments along the way.

Thank you so much!

Jennifer

Here are some of my thoughts Anna. I made comments on the original poem and then tried to show you what I meant or might change.

I would add a few small words to the first two lines but that it just my personal preference. I would move “sags” up to end the third line for a stronger effect.

The sidewalk is closed.
We walk the street past
yellow plastic mesh that sags
between wooden stakes
protecting us from danger.


In the second stanza, I would end the first line with a period because I think it's a really important point at you want the reader to fully stop there.

Meghan ignores the sign.
Please use the other side.
Her eyes are high, focused
far ahead. She hops open slits
and rusted rebar without hesitation.



As a reader this (No harm will come today) comes across as the young woman’s unconscious thought and to me it doesn’t ring true with the way young people think. Older people impose that “young people think no harm will come today” on the younger people but young people themselves just don’t consider it as a possibility. That’s a long way of saying that I would leave out that line because I think the attitude it presents is represented already in her actions.

I would say that “the way” is unnecessary here because you tell us where she leads and I think choosing maybe three examples might make the “way” stronger.

Would it make your idea even stronger if you said, “When did she become this woman who leads me past…” ?

When did she become this woman
who leads me past pawn shops,
liquor stores and welfare lines,
glaring at the men who gawk
at the tall white girl whose fine ass
lives on the other side of town.


I think that her questions haven’t stopped but the voice in the poem mourns the fact that she has stopped being asked the questions. What about this…

She doesn’t ask me anymore.
Why can’t dogs have kittens?
Does the rain ever fall up?

We have walked through air
wet with a promise of rain
in clouds that had forgotten
how to fly. Tutu, tap shoes,
and skinned knees on the verge
of becoming. Today we step

If it was me I would leave out the italic parts (Who is leading, who is following?
Neither of us know where we are going we just follow each other) here because I think those questions are already in the head of any reader by the images you have places in front of them. I played with the breaks in this stanza to see if it could get a more directed feel to it. As it was, it seemed filled with great images that didn’t seem to be displayed to their full potential. It’s a lot to say…I probably didn’t come close to grabbing it all either in my feeble attempt at some help.



I took out some of the overt questions at the end, again, thinking that the reader might already be feeling the loss of communication between the two people without you having to tell them what they might be wanting to talk about. I see the benefits of having them in there though, but I think maybe if you put the questions she “dare not ask” maybe you should just put in two to balance with the earlier ones from her childhood.

over oily rainbow puddles
in front of dusty shop windows
walking in silence
until one of us wonders why
the sidewalk is closed today.


Finally, I know this thread is supposed to be all tough guy slice and dice critique but I gotta say that I loved this poem. I think it was the first thing of Anna’s that I read. I loved what she captured here and if anything I messed with changed that well then, I should be shot.

I am a re-writer when I critique mainly because I just don’t have a lot of time to explain what I think should be moved or cut out but if you ever want to know why I switched or added something I would be happy to answer. Just ask. The suggestions as to other possible ways of structuring things were added only with the intention of letting you see another way of doing things not to say the original way was wrong.

Best,

T.

 

[annaswirls]

Patrick, thank you again for starting this thread!

I wanted to reassure people that I did not hijack with my poem
I spoke to Patrick first. I think it is good to have two or three going at one time.

If someone wants to post another poem, I can put mine to rest. I am just trying to get a collection of family poems together, they are more squishy and sentimental than most, but you know.......




J

 

[PatCarrington]

Patrick, thank you again for starting this thread!

I wanted to reassure people that I did not hijack with my poem
I spoke to Patrick first. I think it is good to have two or three going at one time.

If someone wants to post another poem, I can put mine to rest. I am just trying to get a collection of family poems together, they are more squishy and sentimental than most, but you know.......




J

you're welcome, swirly.

this is NOT my thread, jennifer.

this is a thread for anyone to post a poem about which they want a deep and truthful critique, with no hesitation on either side.

a place when you want to escape the sandboxes and beds, and discuss poetry.

and i don't think it matters how many poems are going at once.

 

[PatCarrington]

I do not expect to get that kind of response- anything would be great

like lose the second line. it is unnecessary

the end



I am just giving this a try.

No rush or expetation Patrick, my time is pressed as well.

Thanks!

Jennifer

jen,


catbabe did a wonderful job critiquing your poem, i think. she touched all the spots i was planning to, so any inspection from me would yield repetitive suggestions.

you know you can ask me if you have specific questions.

patrick

 

[twelveoone]

you're welcome, swirly.

this is NOT my thread, jennifer.

this is a thread for anyone to post a poem about which they want a deep and truthful critique, with no hesitation on either side.

a place when you want to escape the sandboxes and beds, and discuss poetry.

and i don't think it matters how many poems are going at once.

Your idea, your post, thank you for that. A critique from the easily confused, about this thread, some posts (even this one) not about the poems, some replies include the whole original post to either answer one point, or to talk about something else, can we avoid that.
More than two going may get a little to confusing for those that have problems focusing (i.e.) me.
When one is done, can one sign off; i.e. Pat are you done for now?
The next poem that goes up, can the poem go up in a different colour?
One more off poem comment, I have learned alot (why I am here), from the different reactions, suggestions to yours, one thing I learned is I am not THAT far off-base in my thinking.
It may be helpful, if you were to go up and re-edit your first post, so the thread does not look like this is thread about Dresden.
Ego out the door; I do reserve the right to be effusive in my praise about certain things that I may see.
I apologise for this off-poem post, and will try not to do so in the future.

 

[PatCarrington]

Your idea, your post, thank you for that. A critique from the easily confused, about this thread, some posts (even this one) not about the poems, some replies include the whole original post to either answer one point, or to talk about something else, can we avoid that.
More than two going may get a little to confusing for those that have problems focusing (i.e.) me.
When one is done, can one sign off; i.e. Pat are you done for now?
The next poem that goes up, can the poem go up in a different colour?
One more off poem comment, I have learned alot (why I am here), from the different reactions, suggestions to yours, one thing I learned is I am not THAT far off-base in my thinking.
It may be helpful, if you were to go up and re-edit your first post, so the thread does not look like this is thread about Dresden.
Ego out the door; I do reserve the right to be effusive in my praise about certain things that I may see.
I apologise for this off-poem post, and will try not to do so in the future.

1201 - it's difficult to set rules that are that complex.

my desire was to have a thread where a completed or nearly-completed poem that you have high hopes for could be opened to deep scrutiny. i think it benefits all who choose to participate, the poet and critiquers, and also those who just read.

my poem is done. so is anna's. we got what we wanted.

Who's Next?

 

[Angeline]

1201 - it's difficult to set rules that are that complex.

my desire was to have a thread where a completed or nearly-completed poem that you have high hopes for could be opened to deep scrutiny. i think it benefits all who choose to participate, the poet and critiquers, and also those who just read.

my poem is done. so is anna's. we got what we wanted.

Who's Next?

"nearly completed"

ly compounds don't take a hyphen. Damnit.

(not even when the phrase is adjectival, so don't try to argue)

 

[PatCarrington]

"nearly completed"

ly compounds don't take a hyphen. Damnit.

(not even when the phrase is adjectival, so don't try to argue)

yes, mistress.

(curse noted)


why don't you put up a poem while you're here, grammar nazi?

 

[DeepAsleep]

Sidewalk

We walk on the street
beside the yellow plastic fence
that sags low between wooden stakes.

Meghan ignores the sign:
Sidewalk closed
Her eyes are focused high
and into the distance.

She hops over open slits and rusted rebar
without hesitation.

When did she become this woman
who leads us past glowing signs:
pawn shop checks cashed bail bond liquor
navigating the city streets as she once
led me through hay bale mazes
to a new litter of barn cats.

She doesn't ask questions anymore:
Why can't cats have puppies?
Why doesn't rain ever fall up?

In her tutu, tap shoes and torn knees,
I held her hand as we walked
through alfalfa in the mist of a cloud
not yet having learned how to fly.


But today we step over oily rainbow puddles,
steam grates and broken bottles.
In her reflection off the used bookstore windows
I try to read the questions she does not ask:

How long will this hurt
Will I ever recognize myself in my own body
What are you hiding from us

The sidewalk was closed,
we walked on the street.

I found this poem emotionally confusing, because I'm not sure whether I was putting my own spin on it, or actually reading what you intended. Plus, I don't have kids, so I've no idea what it's like seeing them all grown, 'n whatnot.

Sack made some great comments that I'd have missed, but one question I'd like an answer to, or at least something I'd like to address is this part:

She doesn't ask questions anymore:
Why can't cats have puppies?
Why doesn't rain ever fall up?

I feel, like *catbabe*, a certain longing for these questions she doesn't ask, almost as if you feel slightly distanced from her, and if that's the intent, it seems that it would be more specific if you wrote it

She doesn't ask me questions anymore:
Why can't cats have puppies?
Why doesn't rain ever fall up?

Or you could go whole-hog and add 'why' as in, 'why doesn't she...' but that's going a bit far, perhaps. Just my thoughts on the only point I bound up at. This is an excellent poem, Anna.

~D.A.