Poetry Forum

(revision)

Last year's tree's still there,
propped against the outside wall,
dumped between the gutter and the bin.
Mum wanted to chop it up,
throw the wood on the fire,
but Dad sealed off the chimney
when he left.

And now it's cold,
perched here on the top step,
in a vague, imperfect circle, after school.
My brothers and sisters are waiting,
watching a lazy sky.
Hey, didn't Mum say
we'd be snowed under by now?

They see those branches as skis.
They think they can make them zoom,
all the way down Meigle Hill and back,
only to return for the takeaway on Friday,
Welfare Day's best night for unbrushed teeth.

Sherbet dips in lemonade,
blowing bubbles through plastic straws,
all colourful fun in the dark,
playing hide and seek with the Shark Man
and Mum counting back;
four green bottles, empty again.

It's Christmas soon, Charlie says,
Dad's gonna send us a sledge,
but won't the snow have come and gone
by then?



*********************************************************

Last year's tree's still there,
propped against the outside wall,
dumped between the gutter and the bin.
Mum wanted to chop it up,
throw the wood on the fire,
but Dad sealed off the chimney
when he left.

And now it's cold,
perched here on the top step,
at the head of an imperfect circle, after school.
Mum says we'll be snowed under
and my brothers and sisters are waiting;
watching the sky, seeing branches as skis
down Meigle Hill and back,
only to return for the takeaway on Friday,
Welfare Day's best night for unbrushed teeth.

Sherbet dips in lemonade,
blowing bubbles through plastic straws;
Mum rarely cares when she has enough wine to drink.
Playing hide and seek with the Shark Man,
extra fun in the dark
and Charlie says, it's gonna be Christmas soon.

Dad's promised to send him a sledge.

A quiet window into someone's life - a hint of pathos.
Straightforward can be refreshing - good.
A couple of subtle rhymes - deliberate?
I would prefer for you to do something to regularise the rhythm since it is awkward in a couple of places:
e.g.

perched here on the top step,
at the head of an imperfect circle, after school.



J.

I think this is potentially very good, but it's still a bit raw. Some of the lines read more like notes about a poem than the poem itself, e.g. Mum rarely cares when she has enough wine to drink. I think you need to demonstrate that, rather than just saying it.

I found this section -

Mum says we'll be snowed under
and my brothers and sisters are waiting;
watching the sky, seeing branches as skis
down Meigle Hill and back,
only to return for the takeaway on Friday,
Welfare Day's best night for unbrushed teeth -

a bit muddled too. But the poem is nicely arranged and paced already. I'd like to see the (slightly) revamped version.

Cheers

David

Yes on all counts. I know most of this is rough, just unsure how to smooth it out and wondered if anyone here would spark an idea. Still very much a wip. Thank you.

Hi Moth,

I would take a look at verses - where you end them because that can make the reader flow or falter: at punctuation likewise.
The strength of this poem is the sad and meagre 'human' story and with David's comments in mind, I would build on descriptions and I would pay attention to phrases that can flow off the tongue.
Read it aloud before you accept it.



J.

Every thing around Christmas time becomes biblical
The narrator is clearly anxious in the poems contemplations.
The mental awakening at Christmas time blend together
as two opposing’s generals, one poor and the other is rich,
the narration of Charles dickens comes into play;
the soulless realism of Christmas against polite elegance
of the rich;
i did enjoy your poem

Thank Gavin. Thoughts of Dickens, yes, hence the title (2011 style). And John, for confirming what I know isn't working yet. That verse in the middle. I either need to cut down to size or add to or... something. I have real problems with metre and flow, usually solved in part by leaving the piece for months and returning. It's there but it isn't, and I'm frustrated - so any thoughts by way of improvement would help. Funny, no matter how much I read of others' work, it's something that just won't come natuarlly. Like those flickering images I can't quite piece together. A jigsaw which makes me think... I should stick to prose. But then my prose is too poetic, too obscure... and sorry, I'm rambling on. Shall return tomorrow with a (hopefully) clearer head.

I know it's a problem for me too.
The discipline of metre is grrrrr. Sometimes beat or flow are the easier master. I can refer you to Stephen Fry and 'An Ode Less Travelled'
But:
I don't think you are that far away, I really don't. The prose side can lead you into explanation (which is where you go with mother's wine for example) and if you turn that into her action/behaviour/speech then the poem gets better. The beat can often be sorted if you sort line endings and where the reader pauses (long pause/short pause).
Nobody said it would be easy.

J.

Ahhh, this was removed before I had chance to give feedback.

Anyway, the theme was fantastic and it the lines very evocative but, if I remember, rightly it need a bit of structural improvement [or maybe that's my need to have everything looking prim and proper].

Looking forward to a redraft.

This might be better now. Thanks for all comments.

Now I'm not exactly the right person to suggest what to do; and there is always another opinion.
The way I would present S1, as a single example, bearing in mind this is done quickly, is as follows:

Last year's tree is still there
and propped against the outside wall.
Dumped between drain and bin,
Mum wanted to put it to our axe
then throw the wood into the fire:
But had Dad sealed the chimney
before he shagged the girl next door.

I think you need to be more rhythmic and confident in how you present.

Trying to help

J

This is a lovely poem. Wonderful vein of delights throughout: mischievious dad sealing off the chimney, and his likely tardiness in sending the sledge, the unbrushed teeth of welfare day, . . .

Not really my thing Moth, but it further confirms to me that you should be posting on Exp. I could easily imagine finding this in a decent UK magazine.

B.

Thanks again, everyone. You've some very different ideas about that first verse, John. I think I can see what you mean by way of presentation, but can't quite see it fitting in with the rest of the poem. Sid - much appreciated. And Brian... ah, experienced, well, I reckon if I were to post there I'd be thrown back here just as quickly. Maybe I'm more of an intermediate?

Not really expecting it to fit as is, but as you change words so mood and voice changes; so you can give another reason for why Dad left etc......

J.

Why gives reasons? Why he left, though irrelevant, is hinted at in verse 1 with my use of 'dumped'. The point I'm making here is that both parents are to blame for the children going short because both are thoughtless and selfish. Mother dumps father, father seals off chimney (no more Santa Claus), Mother puts buying alcohol before her childrens' needs. It also wouldn't be right to place sole/specific blame on either party considering the pov from which it's written.

I like this. Even skimming over the verse, these words deliver a gritty England, familiar, with still the right measure of sentiment. I like the ease of both light and dark. One of my favourite things.

Also what stuck with me was the,
"Mum wanted to chop it up,
throw the wood on the fire,
but Dad sealed off the chimney
when he left."
As if wanting to get rid of dead wood, but the very nature of the scenario was the thing that got in the way of that. Dad's departure was what kept kept him ever present.

Thanks, JS. Appreciate the feedback.