Around the Table: feedback and constructive criticism

[annaswirls]

Around the Table: Please pass the criticism.

"Not for the Thin-Skinned" with a twist


Rules:

1. Post a maximum of 1 poem per week for review (of course, your first poem is "free" so we can prime the pump.)

2. Give constructive feedback to at least 2 other poems before posting another one.

3. Feel free to make short, one line comments without backing up your judgment (or support!) but this will not count as one of your constructive feedbacks.

4. No crybabies or whiners/ Tough criticism is welcome here, but try not to be a dick.

• 
  [*]Not everyone is going to like your poetry and no one here is perfect. We are big boys and girls and can take it.
  
  [*]No whining about the quality of comments. If someone wants to say "Hugs!" or "Huh?" or "I love it!" they can without recourse. If someone wants to say "this reminds me of my cat" they can. Of course, these won't be considered as the required constructive criticism.
  [*]This is a reviewer friendly zone.

5. You can give feedback without providing poetry, but you cannot post poetry without providing constructive feedback.

6. Want to fuck around a bit? Hijack and hijinx? Go for it. Everyone needs to have fun, that is why most of us stay at Literotica.


What counts as constructive feedback?

Literally speaking, constructive criticism is any suggestion that might, in the critic's view, make a poem better. The suggestion itself can relate to anything from basic language (e.g. spelling, grammar, syntax, punctuation, etc.) to content (e.g. continuity or factual errors) to technical poetic (e.g. rhythms, meter, sonics, etc.) issues and include everything in between (e.g. originality, clarity, brevity, subtlety).

• You do not need to do a line by line analysis of the poem. You can pick one or two things you think could be changed in order to make the poem "better." You can also point out the places where the poem really works for you.
  
• You do not need a MFA or BA or even a GED to participate. Everyone has ideas of how to make a poem "better" and their views should be heard, considered and respected.

Suggestions:

Even with these guidelines, if you are still worried about recourse, get an Alt. They are welcome here, especially if they help you to be honest about your opinions and thoughts. If you do so just to have a place to hide your sadistic comments, get therapy.

If someone wants to say "This sucks" without giving a reason, just ignore it (or think about it) but don't get pissy and immature, even if (or especially if) the commenter is. Likewise, if someone drops in and says "I love it!" just let it be. Don't be upset because they did not make valuable suggestions.

In this thread, the person giving the feedback can do so however they see fit. The poet has to be the grown-up. So many times here it has been the other way around. Someone criticizes a poem and everyone blasts them for not being more sensitive. Do not feel you need to defend a friend if someone gives harsh criticism. We are all over 18 in here and do not need a posse of well-meaning supporters who ultimately suppress any dissent.

Having said that, you don't have to tip toe, but try not to be an asshole when commenting on other people's poetry.

Don't post poems that are so personal that you will not be able to handle the feedback, not here. Reviewers need to be able to be honest without worrying about hurting your feelings by correcting your spelling in a poem you wrote for your Nana's funeral or brother's wedding. (Yes, I have written both and would never in a million years post them here. They were for a specific audience and pretty much suck as poetry.)


If someone criticizes your work and you do not agree with their assessment, be professional about it. Don't take it personally. Wait a day or two before responding to their assessment. Most likely as the day wears on, you will be able to see their opinion more clearly.

Okay. Dang. That is a lot of rules. But it is pretty simple.

Pick a poem you want to be better.
Post it.
Read at least 2 poems and give a bit of constructive criticism on both.
Repeat.

 

[annaswirls]

Hope the initial post was not confusing. Here we go, my poem for week #1. I already got some great feedback -- would be ever so grateful for more. I hope y'all post your poems here, I will be gentle, I promise!


The Man Who Wasn't There
by annaswirls©

You ask me to bury our silver rings outside
the door that leads to my father's hayloft.

Your bronze-legged statue watches from her shelf.
She gives birth to her own hands. They reach out
between her legs and grasp tight.

We too, deliver ourselves, climb leaning ladders,
press too hard into softness, bury rings
in foreign soil in hopes something new will grow.

You never carried me across that threshold,
it was just a dream I woke to tell you about.
We were kids up in that loft, hiding
behind a wall of hay bales, your hands
under my calico skirt, discovery.

Still that morning dream
was solid enough to hang our rings upon
back in the kitten eyed part of love
where every thing takes on special meaning,
this song, our song, secret handshakes, open doors.




...................
Originally posted:

The Man Who Wasn't There
by annaswirls©

You asked me to bury
our silver rings outside
the old barn door,
the door that leads to the hayloft.

You never carried me across that threshold,
it was just a dream I woke to tell you about.
We were both kids, climbing up to the loft,
hiding behind a wall of hay bales,
your hands under my calico skirt, discovering.

Still that dream was solid enough
to hang our rings upon
back in the kitten eyed part of love
where every thing takes on special meaning,
this song, our song, secret handshakes, open doors.

Our bronze-legged statue you sculpted
watches from her shelf.
She gives birth to her own hands.
They reach out between her legs
and grasp tight to the egg
that is somehow her body.

We too, deliver ourselves,
climb leaning ladders,
press hard into softness,
bury silver rings in foreign soil
in hopes something will grow.
__________________

 

[EroticOrogeny]

Hope the initial post was not confusing. Here we go, my poem for week #1. I already got some great feedback -- would be ever so grateful for more. I hope y'all post your poems here, I will be gentle, I promise!


The Man Who Wasn't There
by annaswirls©

You ask me to bury our silver rings outside
the door that leads to my father's hayloft.

Your bronze-legged statue watches from her shelf.
She gives birth to her own hands. They reach out
between her legs and grasp tight.

We too, deliver ourselves, climb leaning ladders,
press too hard into softness, bury rings
in foreign soil in hopes something new will grow.

You never carried me across that threshold,
it was just a dream I woke to tell you about.
We were kids up in that loft, hiding
behind a wall of hay bales, your hands
under my calico skirt, discovery.

Still that morning dream
was solid enough to hang our rings upon
back in the kitten eyed part of love
where every thing takes on special meaning,
this song, our song, secret handshakes, open doors.




...................
Originally posted:

The Man Who Wasn't There
by annaswirls©

You asked me to bury
our silver rings outside
the old barn door,
the door that leads to the hayloft.

You never carried me across that threshold,
it was just a dream I woke to tell you about.
We were both kids, climbing up to the loft,
hiding behind a wall of hay bales,
your hands under my calico skirt, discovering.

Still that dream was solid enough
to hang our rings upon
back in the kitten eyed part of love
where every thing takes on special meaning,
this song, our song, secret handshakes, open doors.

Our bronze-legged statue you sculpted
watches from her shelf.
She gives birth to her own hands.
They reach out between her legs
and grasp tight to the egg
that is somehow her body.

We too, deliver ourselves,
climb leaning ladders,
press hard into softness,
bury silver rings in foreign soil
in hopes something will grow.
__________________

Overall, I like it. The statue part confuses me, in both versions. I may be missing something here. An incomplete statue - why just bronze legs?
I do think the rearrangement helps with the flow of memories/dreams. I tend to skip over the statue part, so I'm sure I'm missing something.

 

[EroticOrogeny]

I started a thread with an earlier version of this and got some initial feedback. But nothing more - maybe it doesn't grab anyone enough. I'm taking a theme and trying to develop something erotic from it, rather than some more explicit metaphors - those are more appropriate for my wife/lover. The poems tagged as erotic get more hits, but few comments for either.
Anywhere, here's an attempt, and I don't want to say more and possibly predjudice readers.

Split spreads fluid floods
Surfaces slip and slide
Masses meet, now collide
thick slab thrusts in trench deep
folds flow, fluids seep
bodies bake, closely quake
future suture sure to endure
features glow, union heats
The cycle repeats

 

[champagne1982]

Hi Anna,

I feel you're writing about a dead marriage or at least a love gone sour with maturity. I think I prefer your original over the revision, in truth simply because it feels more genuine. In V2 it's like the surrealism of dreaming becomes more important than the symbolism of the story.

Is the statue an ideal or more an unfinished attempt to mould the woman into the man's ideal? The loss of virginity into the fertility of youth; a bonding symbolized first by the sowing of the rings and then birth - an attempt to cement what was really a house of straw, in which lived a straw man?

It's a very rich poem in that you allow it to stretch into the forbidden aspects of love and life not always having a perfect, storybook feel. You emphasize that first in choosing silver over gold, bronze over iron and finally, somewhat of a farmer over a prince. It's sad that he never carried his bride across the threshhold, although it sounds as if he laid her close to the threshing floor, out in the barn... (Oh nevermind, not very punny )

 

[annaswirls]

thank you EO and Champ for your time and honesty. I will be back back back this afternoon

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I started a thread with an earlier version of this and got some initial feedback. But nothing more - maybe it doesn't grab anyone enough. I'm taking a theme and trying to develop something erotic from it, rather than some more explicit metaphors - those are more appropriate for my wife/lover. The poems tagged as erotic get more hits, but few comments for either.
Anywhere, here's an attempt, and I don't want to say more and possibly predjudice readers.

Split spreads fluid floods
Surfaces slip and slide
Masses meet, now collide
thick slab thrusts in trench deep
folds flow, fluids seep
bodies bake, closely quake
future suture sure to endure
features glow, union heats
The cycle repeats

Sneaks in and promises to try and be mature

To me this reads like a list almost a Cento with lines garnered from other poems but without connections into the next line. I know I have been told in the past to cut and cut again weeding out all the 'I's and 'ands' but there sould be a few I think to keep the poem flowing. Actually come to think of it this to me reads like ideas jotted down before construction begins.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

I started a thread with an earlier version of this and got some initial feedback. But nothing more - maybe it doesn't grab anyone enough. I'm taking a theme and trying to develop something erotic from it, rather than some more explicit metaphors - those are more appropriate for my wife/lover. The poems tagged as erotic get more hits, but few comments for either.
Anywhere, here's an attempt, and I don't want to say more and possibly predjudice readers.

Split spreads fluid floods
Surfaces slip and slide
Masses meet, now collide
thick slab thrusts in trench deep
folds flow, fluids seep
bodies bake, closely quake
future suture sure to endure
features glow, union heats
The cycle repeats

To me this begs to be recited aloud for best effect. The words dance together, bumping, colliding and gliding together. I see it as a description of tectonics, volcanics and such. I would not change a thing.

 

[annaswirls]

It took two reads for me to see the geologic nature of your poem, which I should have gottten the first time, knowing your previous work with plate techtonics

I think nature is sexy, and you found it in a place I had not looked before!

I am going to stick to purely technical suggestions for the first run.

1. Be consistent with capitalization (beginning of the new line can go either way, but pick one way and stick with it.)

2. Be consistent with punctuation. Sometimes you put a comma in between phrases "Masses meet, now collide" and sometimes you don't. "Split spreads fluid floods" Sometimes you use the "and." Sure you can mix it up a bit, but it might confuse the reader. For example, split spreads fluid floods could be read as ( I am extending for purpose of explanation and do not think you should do this in the poem) a split spreads and the fluids flood or split spreads the fluid's flood. Sorry if I am making it more complicated.

okay gotta run, my kid wants me to draw monsters. I will try to come back later tonight.

Good read!

I started a thread with an earlier version of this and got some initial feedback. But nothing more - maybe it doesn't grab anyone enough. I'm taking a theme and trying to develop something erotic from it, rather than some more explicit metaphors - those are more appropriate for my wife/lover. The poems tagged as erotic get more hits, but few comments for either.
Anywhere, here's an attempt, and I don't want to say more and possibly predjudice readers.

Split spreads fluid floods
Surfaces slip and slide
Masses meet, now collide
thick slab thrusts in trench deep
folds flow, fluids seep
bodies bake, closely quake
future suture sure to endure
features glow, union heats
The cycle repeats

 

[annaswirls]

Thanks EO-- is it okay that I call you EO?

The statue is incomplete. I know it is cheating but I will take a photo and post it.

I will also look at the verse and try to make it work

Thanks!

Overall, I like it. The statue part confuses me, in both versions. I may be missing something here. An incomplete statue - why just bronze legs?
I do think the rearrangement helps with the flow of memories/dreams. I tend to skip over the statue part, so I'm sure I'm missing something.

 

[annaswirls]

You are awesome. I wish I had your intuition and perception. Seriously. Thank you. Sometimes I need another writer to help me understand what I am trying to do with my own poem. Is that ridiculous? I do trust myself and don't sway with the breeze, but sometimes I put things in that are important, like the silver ring, but I do not consciously know why it is important.

Thanks for your help!

Hi Anna,

I feel you're writing about a dead marriage or at least a love gone sour with maturity. I think I prefer your original over the revision, in truth simply because it feels more genuine. In V2 it's like the surrealism of dreaming becomes more important than the symbolism of the story.

Is the statue an ideal or more an unfinished attempt to mould the woman into the man's ideal? The loss of virginity into the fertility of youth; a bonding symbolized first by the sowing of the rings and then birth - an attempt to cement what was really a house of straw, in which lived a straw man?

It's a very rich poem in that you allow it to stretch into the forbidden aspects of love and life not always having a perfect, storybook feel. You emphasize that first in choosing silver over gold, bronze over iron and finally, somewhat of a farmer over a prince. It's sad that he never carried his bride across the threshhold, although it sounds as if he laid her close to the threshing floor, out in the barn... (Oh nevermind, not very punny )

 

[EroticOrogeny]

It took two reads for me to see the geologic nature of your poem, which I should have gottten the first time, knowing your previous work with plate techtonics

I think nature is sexy, and you found it in a place I had not looked before!

I am going to stick to purely technical suggestions for the first run.

1. Be consistent with capitalization (beginning of the new line can go either way, but pick one way and stick with it.)

2. Be consistent with punctuation. Sometimes you put a comma in between phrases "Masses meet, now collide" and sometimes you don't. "Split spreads fluid floods" Sometimes you use the "and." Sure you can mix it up a bit, but it might confuse the reader. For example, split spreads fluid floods could be read as ( I am extending for purpose of explanation and do not think you should do this in the poem) a split spreads and the fluids flood or split spreads the fluid's flood. Sorry if I am making it more complicated.

okay gotta run, my kid wants me to draw monsters. I will try to come back later tonight.

Good read!

Thanks for the feedback and likewise for Tristess2's
The capitalization was deliberate, but perhaps confusing. We have the balance between tension (1st line), transport (2nd line) and compression (all the rest, except the last). The last line says 'do it all over again'.
There should be a comma in the first line:
Split spreads, fluid floods
I think commas are OK in the other lines.
Should there be periods anwhere? I thopught about that, and decided to skip them.

PS: 'EO' is OK

 

[Angeline]

I started a thread with an earlier version of this and got some initial feedback. But nothing more - maybe it doesn't grab anyone enough. I'm taking a theme and trying to develop something erotic from it, rather than some more explicit metaphors - those are more appropriate for my wife/lover. The poems tagged as erotic get more hits, but few comments for either.
Anywhere, here's an attempt, and I don't want to say more and possibly predjudice readers.

Split spreads fluid floods
Surfaces slip and slide
Masses meet, now collide
thick slab thrusts in trench deep
folds flow, fluids seep
bodies bake, closely quake
future suture sure to endure
features glow, union heats
The cycle repeats

Say EO? (Isn't EO the name of some planet's moon, like one of the moons of Jupiter or some such?--or I could be wrong; I have a very active imagination, Ahem). Your poem reminded me a lot of a poem I wrote a few years back. Here it is:

The locomotive energy
collecting in the staging ground
that’s parallel to thighs
is geometrically triangulated,
and being so gives rise
to a silky corporeality
that accrues incrementally
with functional liquidity

which
digitally or otherwise
exacerbated
and particularly
thermodynamically
applied
with fricative forces
by both gravity
and stimulated load
catalyzes neural-firing
and in essence
I
explode.

And I'm posting it because it sorta relates to my comment. I think your poem is good in that the images are clear and the poem makes an erotic statement, albeit in a geological sort of way. It feels rather sterile to me though, and reading it I wished for a pronoun to humanize it more. To me that's more erotic, but I don't know your purpose in writing it or, of course, I could just be off the mark. But that's what I thought when I read it.

 

[EroticOrogeny]

Say EO? (Isn't EO the name of some planet's moon, like one of the moons of Jupiter or some such?--or I could be wrong; I have a very active imagination, Ahem).

Actually the moon is Io. A classmate from a few years back has that as her research subject. In classical mythology Io was one of Zeus' conquests.

Your poem reminded me a lot of a poem I wrote a few years back. Here it is:

The locomotive energy
collecting in the staging ground
that’s parallel to thighs
is geometrically triangulated,
and being so gives rise
to a silky corporeality
that accrues incrementally
with functional liquidity

which
digitally or otherwise
exacerbated
and particularly
thermodynamically
applied
with fricative forces
by both gravity
and stimulated load
catalyzes neural-firing
and in essence
I
explode.

I'm not sure if you're also posting this here as part of the thread, if so, here's some feedback:
Nice use of words, mostly from physics. Only a few make direct reference to human aspects.
The combination does work.

And I'm posting it because it sorta relates to my comment. I think your poem is good in that the images are clear and the poem makes an erotic statement, albeit in a geological sort of way. It feels rather sterile to me though, and reading it I wished for a pronoun to humanize it more. To me that's more erotic, but I don't know your purpose in writing it or, of course, I could just be off the mark. But that's what I thought when I read it.

I hadn't thought about humanizing it, really. Perhaps my pendulum has swung too far in the opposite direction -
I have quite a few where the sexual metaphors may be overdone (Winter posted here is one such example, several others not posted. My wife really likes the icicle part - but I digress).
I'll probably keep those poems at home, where they work (unless they also satisfy a Survivor target).
So I'm trying to be more subtle. I'll think about your suggestion.
I could also probably post it in a geoscience journal (but no publish or perish benefit in that), not sure if the eroticism would be missed by a lot of those readers.
I also like the fact that it can be read both ways - just the tectonics and also the erotic viewpoint.
I'm also struggling for an appropriate title. 'Wilson Cycle' is accurate, but lacks punch. 'Subduction Seduction' has verbal appeal, but only covers part of the poem.
Thanks for the review

 

[champagne1982]

My free poem...

I shared this one on a thread with Ang. I think when we tested our faith types and I learned I was that Unitarian thingy. This really does feel like it encompasses my celebration of my own spirituality, but is it successful as a poem to the open masses or is it even successful as a panty drawer beauty?

A Hymn of the Spheres

I live a prayer;
each step, each breath
a psalm of praise
to existence in this sphere.

My passage bends a blade
of grass beneath my feet
in a dance of glory
that today I live

and breathe in supplication
to the need for oxygen.
I drink in acceptance
that my thirst must slake
with elements tied together

and arranged for my use.
It moves me amongst the life
gravity holds to this sphere,
this earth, my life, a prayer.

 

[greenmountaineer]

I shared this one on a thread with Ang. I think when we tested our faith types and I learned I was that Unitarian thingy. This really does feel like it encompasses my celebration of my own spirituality, but is it successful as a poem to the open masses or is it even successful as a panty drawer beauty?

A Hymn of the Spheres

I live a prayer;
each step, each breath
a psalm of praise
to existence in this sphere.

My passage bends a blade
of grass beneath my feet
in a dance of glory
that today I live

and breathe in supplication
to the need for oxygen.
I drink in acceptance
that my thirst must slake
with elements tied together

and arranged for my use.
It moves me amongst the life
gravity holds to this sphere,
this earth, my life, a prayer.

I love the first stanza in particular. I'm glad to see a sacred poem, something that I think doesn't get enough play on Literotica.com. I happen to believe that in joy the sexual and spiritual can co-exist, although the former is not explicit in this piece, nor does it need to be.

I might suggest that the second stanza seems to repeat the theme of the first without adding much to it and you consider some human frailty instead instead to create that tension we all experience in our passage to a resumption of triumph, acceptance, and self understanding which you describe so well in the last two stanzas.

Nicely done. I would like to see more of this kind of work because it lifts our spirits as much as all that other naughty stuff we like so much.

 

[champagne1982]

I love the first stanza in particular. I'm glad to see a sacred poem, something that I think doesn't get enough play on Literotica.com. I happen to believe that in joy the sexual and spiritual can co-exist, although the former is not explicit in this piece, nor does it need to be.

I might suggest that the second stanza seems to repeat the theme of the first without adding much to it and you consider some human frailty instead instead to create that tension we all experience in our passage to a resumption of triumph, acceptance, and self understanding which you describe so well in the last two stanzas.

Nicely done. I would like to see more of this kind of work because it lifts our spirits as much as all that other naughty stuff we like so much.

Thank you for your thoughts. When I was writing this poem I was thinking of the Hebrew women who danced across the sea bed as Moses held his staff over the waters, their voices and tambourines making a glorious noise. I don't know how to change the extant verses and still tie them to each other. Perhaps this needs more? Would adding rather than paring down be acceptable?

It bears thinking on.

 

[annaswirls]

Thank you for your thoughts. When I was writing this poem I was thinking of the Hebrew women who danced across the sea bed as Moses held his staff over the waters, their voices and tambourines making a glorious noise. I don't know how to change the extant verses and still tie them to each other. Perhaps this needs more? Would adding rather than paring down be acceptable?

It bears thinking on.

I want to write my own critique when I am more awake than I have been lately.

But I am curious-- why is her foot bending blades of grass if they are supposed to be dancing across the sea bed? I LOVED the bending blade image, it was so delicate.... but if you really want that specific image, you should reconsider the more earthly walking image.

Beautiful poem, by the way. Like a song.

 

[champagne1982]

I want to write my own critique when I am more awake than I have been lately.

But I am curious-- why is her foot bending blades of grass if they are supposed to be dancing across the sea bed? I LOVED the bending blade image, it was so delicate.... but if you really want that specific image, you should reconsider the more earthly walking image.

Beautiful poem, by the way. Like a song.

Well, I explained my thought process poorly. LOL. I meant the way they danced even in extreme duress and still sang and made music, too.

The seabed is really, not the central part of this, I was trying to stay elemental... earth, air, water. Ah hah! Insight, I need fire in there, perhaps.

 

[greenmountaineer]

Thank you for your thoughts. When I was writing this poem I was thinking of the Hebrew women who danced across the sea bed as Moses held his staff over the waters, their voices and tambourines making a glorious noise. I don't know how to change the extant verses and still tie them to each other. Perhaps this needs more? Would adding rather than paring down be acceptable?

It bears thinking on.

I appear to have fallen victim to the power of suggestion. Your original post referenced the Unitarian way, far different than the fire and brimstone image I have of Moses smashing tablets and parting seas while being chased by the bad guys.

If you did add to the poem's length, I suggest you exploit the image of the Hebrew women dancing as you describe and it would add to the dramatic effect of the poem in my opinion. I still like the concise length of the poem and its wonderful sound and am still wondering if you might modify one of the stanzas to create some disssonance or "fire" as you write to anna in a later post. Again my preference would be to modify the second because it gives the ear two more stanzas instead of one to re-establish the beautiful sense of harmony established in the first.

Nonetheless, if you believe strongly that the four stanzas should remain as is and additional lines would bring the poem into some sharper focus for the reader, by all means add to it. Don't risk losing the beautiful voice you've established here.

 

[champagne1982]

You are awesome. I wish I had your intuition and perception. Seriously. Thank you. Sometimes I need another writer to help me understand what I am trying to do with my own poem. Is that ridiculous? I do trust myself and don't sway with the breeze, but sometimes I put things in that are important, like the silver ring, but I do not consciously know why it is important.

Thanks for your help!

There's one more thing about the silver. In days past silver was the more valuable element; I surmise because the refining of silver ore was a wasteful process rather than the relatively easy separation of gold from the rock that holds it. With that in mind, wasn't bride price sometimes paid in silver rings in the ancient world? I do believe, that the woman was allowed to keep that treasure as a mark of security and the more she had (and was allowed to stash) the higher her husband's status became? It's something I have a vague recollection of reading about, somewhere, but without further research I can't confirm.

Silver rings evokes these things, so don't change that, ever. K?

 

[annaswirls]

grrrrrr

 

[EroticOrogeny]

I shared this one on a thread with Ang. I think when we tested our faith types and I learned I was that Unitarian thingy. This really does feel like it encompasses my celebration of my own spirituality, but is it successful as a poem to the open masses or is it even successful as a panty drawer beauty?

A Hymn of the Spheres

I live a prayer;
each step, each breath
a psalm of praise
to existence in this sphere.

My passage bends a blade
of grass beneath my feet
in a dance of glory
that today I live

and breathe in supplication
to the need for oxygen.
I drink in acceptance
that my thirst must slake
with elements tied together

and arranged for my use.
It moves me amongst the life
gravity holds to this sphere,
this earth, my life, a prayer.

Overall, I liked it. Some minor thoughts:
For me, the the 5th line in the 3rd stanza seems more like it belongs to the last stanza.
I don't see any mention of the other key sphere in our lives - the sun.
Other things are just quibbles:
'in' vs 'on' in 4th line of 1st stanza - for me 'in' ties back to the spiritual sphere, while 'on' to the physical sphere. Subtle distinction, and can go either way with it. The 'and's starting lines (1/3, 1/4) could probably be dropped.
Thanks for the poem!

 

[MickNasty]

Mother's Day sonnet

[repost from main - had no idea this thread existed]


Yes - its squishy and wooogy but it is what it is. And yes, I'm hypocritical - and here's a stone for someone to cast.

So, that said. I could really use some feedback from those more talented than I. Its a simple mother's day sonnet that I'll make into a card. With that context given, I'd appreciate a word or two to improve it.


A mother’s love, precious gift from heaven
Boundless and selfless identity lost
Born again in the eyes of her children
Always devoted no matter the cost

Raucous laughter, tears raining down faces
Merciless tickles send children squealing
Fleeing from torture, their jailer chases
Feigning recapture, giggles revealing

Kisses on noses sent softly to bed
Tired and worn to their rooms they would creep
Tucked in her covers, the young angel said
“I love you mama” then drifted to sleep
Alone in the darkness, now just us two
My words softly caress, "I love you too"

 

[Tzara]

[repost from main - had no idea this thread existed]


Yes - its squishy and wooogy but it is what it is. And yes, I'm hypocritical - and here's a stone for someone to cast.

Hi, Mick. Mother's Day poems should be squishy and wooogy. (Wooogy?) I know my Mom soaks up mush like one of those super-absorbent paper towels they advertise on TV. Just think of it not so much as a "poem" as an expression of love.

Having said that, my usual response would be to tell you to just use your own words, which are much more powerful and meaningful than any tweakingliness anyone else would give to your poem. Unless your Mum is an English professor, she's going to care much more about what you say than how it's said. And if she's like my Mom, the mushier, the better.

So, that said. I could really use some feedback from those more talented than I. Its a simple mother's day sonnet that I'll make into a card. With that context given, I'd appreciate a word or two to improve it.

Well, OK, but my comments are simply comments. Use them if they help, lose them if they don't. You yourself know better than anyone whether this poem will please your Mom.

A mother’s love, precious gift from heaven
Boundless and selfless identity lost
Born again in the eyes of her children
Always devoted no matter the cost

Raucous laughter, tears raining down faces
Merciless tickles send children squealing
Fleeing from torture, their jailer chases
Feigning recapture, giggles revealing

Kisses on noses sent softly to bed
Tired and worn to their rooms they would creep
Tucked in her covers, the young angel said
“I love you mama” then drifted to sleep
Alone in the darkness, now just us two
My words softly caress, "I love you too"

Your meter isn't consistent, but I don't think that matters at all. It doesn't make the poem sound odd, so I would leave that alone. I get a little confused in the end lines, though. I assume "the young angel" is a sibling?

That's the one thing I might change a bit, but I would also guess that your Mom would know who you're talking about and wouldn't be confused by it, in which case I would leave the whole thing alone.

I'll bet a box of chocolates she'll love the poem.