Eva's Birds [revision 7] (minor nudges)

[Macavity]

spending
hours watching the pansies grow

Don't get that JJ...supposing that this can be observed over 'hours', wouldn't there be a point when the 'growing' stops? May be me

Pleased to see the Miner title back!

best

mac

[bjondon]

A great portrait JJ. And steadily improving through the revisions.
You are still wrestling with the title I see . . . Given that 'Eva' is named
why not just make it his name?. I think the injured leg, miner's prop and canaries
are big enough clues for the reader to catch on.

Just a couple of niggles:
L6 - 'scarred' impies the N has seen his bare leg -'damaged' might work (it has a more historical feel too)
L15 - 'to paint memories' is a bit clichéd and doesn't feel quite right.
Bless my shonky eyes, I first read it as 'to plant memories' - which I much prefer
and is kind of what we do in reveries in special places.
But excellent! The form perfect - really enjoyed.

Jules

[1lankest]

Keep returning to this and enjoying more and more, JJ.

Do you need ‘foraging’ before robin?

Still not liking the title. Eva’s Birds is better.

Or you could end with

‘A private place to hide his tired face’

And call it ‘Painting Memories?’

Luke

[JJWilliamson]

Thanks, Eira, mac, Jules and Luke, for the thoughtful and sage advice. Always appreciated.

So much to consider, there, and I found myself nodding along to pretty much everything. The title possibilities are manifold but it must be resolved soon, for better or worse, and I'm still drawn to "Eva's seat". Mind you, as the poem progressed I felt the original had more appeal. It often comes back to which title would have more appeal to the casual reader.

The watching the pansies grow line was simply a reference to doing little or nothing, like watching the grass grow. It could be given a nudge, I reckon.

I like the idea of planting memories, too. Yes, that one could well find its way into the poem.

I think 'foraging' hints at the robin's actions rather than just its presence. As I hoe my garden the robin always follows to pick up unearthed grubs and the like.

Thanks again for all the encouraging comments.

Best to all

JJ

[JamesM]

Hello JJ,
this is coming along. I haven't a real sense of the focus though other than a character sketch. His loneliness and the ritual recollection of his lost wife are strong. She is the emotional centre of the poem and something is missing in the close that ties this all together: some coalescing insight that 'hide his tired face' isn't satisfying. Have you thought about putting this into the present tense? It is a routine, and though gone, she is still very present. I'd change, 'bent like a...' for, 'bowed like a... '
regards
James

[JJWilliamson]

Thank you very much, James, for the thoughtful comments and suggestions. Much appreciated feedback.

Hello JJ,
this is coming along. I haven't a real sense of the focus though other than a character sketch. His loneliness and the ritual recollection of his lost wife are strong. ...That's pretty much where I'm coming from. Does it elicit an emotional response and is it representative of the human condition, especially when our time is drawing nearer? These are questions I considered when looking into the life of this old miner and his deceased wife, Eva.

She is the emotional centre of the poem and something is missing in the close that ties this all together: some coalescing insight that 'hide his tired face' isn't satisfying. ...Yes, it's a thorny issue. He is weary through injury and loss and knows there's nothing to be done. However, he still marches on and hangs in there by tending the garden, feeding the birds and remembering what once was. It risks falling into the maudlin but it's not really written from a sentimental pov, more one of fact and recognition. This, of course, in itself is a source of pity or even empathy. I suppose it's a snapshot of more than just this old miner.

Have you thought about putting this into the present tense? ...Yes, and have, or had, the version saved on my pc.

It is a routine, and though gone, she is still very present. I'd change, 'bent like a...' for, 'bowed like a...Ah, that's a possibility.
regards
James

Thanks again for the critique.

Best

JJ

[NotQuiteSure]

.
Hi JJ,
just happened to be passing, and got distracted
by all those his-es.

S1 - maybe 'battered' for 'bent' ?

S2 - 'repeating' is all tell, no show.
But the addition of 'coal dust' is good.

S4 - seems almost unnecessary. I know, I know,
big word almost.
Why isn't My Eva in speech marks?

S5 - thought 'plant' was an nice idea, building on 'tilled
and hoed'.
Not sure about 'bees and sparrows' (birds and bees, innit?
butterflies and bees ?)

Taking one or two liberties:


I watched him labouring the path again,
as though spine and pelvis had fused to one
arthritic bone, [modifier] walking stick
bent like an old pit prop.

Heard that familiar voice, dry and coarse
as coal dust, calling to the blackbirds, "Come,
my little canaries, come.” Scarred leg scraping
over broken stones to the bird table. Somehow,

managing the garden, this little patch, He'd sit
by the back door for hours, alone on a narrow bench.
Always smiled when I said hello,*
and sometimes mentioned The War

and how he met My Eva.

This was her seat, a quiet place to hide
his tired face and tend his memories


* think you could add a bit more of a physical description here
(then wondered if you could get away with cutting this verse entirely
- from 'spending' to 'dissolve' and 'and' to 'My Eva').


Regards, Not.

.

[JJWilliamson]

Hi, Not

My apologies for the late, nay, tardy response to your splendid critique. I've had a devil of a virus these past few days and I've been in "knackered" mode for ages. I've popped in to look occasionally but abandoned any attempts at reasonable communication after only a few minutes. Headache!

.
Hi JJ,
just happened to be passing, and got distracted
by all those his-es. ...I will look to drop a couple because I can't help but agree with you. "distracted" Yip!

S1 - maybe 'battered' for 'bent' ? ...Ah but, 'bent' implies weight, a burden, impending doom and even danger.

S2 - 'repeating' is all tell, no show. ..."repeatedly" will go. Never was keen myself, seeing it as filler.
But the addition of 'coal dust' is good.

S4 - seems almost unnecessary. I know, I know, ...It's representative of isolation, contemplation, memory and futility.
big word almost.
Why isn't My Eva in speech marks? ...It kind of hints at a quiet musing rather than an emphatic moment, as if there existed a blend of speech and memory, a thought, where he almost gets lost in his reminiscences. I did think about the speech marks for an age, eventually opting for this presentation.

S5 - thought 'plant' was an nice idea, building on 'tilled
and hoed'. ...Yes, it was a great suggestion. I liked it immediately.
Not sure about 'bees and sparrows' (birds and bees, innit? ...There are many options, I suppose, but I'm ok with this one, (for now).
butterflies and bees ?)

Taking one or two liberties:


I watched him labouring the path again,
as though spine and pelvis had fused to one
arthritic bone, [modifier] walking stick
bent like an old pit prop.

Heard that familiar voice, dry and coarse
as coal dust, calling to the blackbirds, "Come,
my little canaries, come.” Scarred leg scraping
over broken stones to the bird table. Somehow,

managing the garden, this little patch, He'd sit
by the back door for hours, alone on a narrow bench.
Always smiled when I said hello,*
and sometimes mentioned The War

and how he met My Eva.

This was her seat, a quiet place to hide
his tired face and tend his memories


* think you could add a bit more of a physical description here
(then wondered if you could get away with cutting this verse entirely
- from 'spending' to 'dissolve' and 'and' to 'My Eva').


Regards, Not.

.

Interesting suggestions, all worth considering.

Thanks again for sticking with it and once again please accept my apologies.

Best

JJ

[NotQuiteSure]

.

No apologies necessary JJ. Glad you're on the mend.
You're absence was noted.

Regards, Not.


.

[JJWilliamson]

Cheers, Not

Obliged.

JJ

[CalebPerry]

Before I start, let me vote again for putting this in the present tense. I searched for the word "tense" and discovered that a lot of people suggested that, so I wonder why you resist it.

My reaction to the poem this time around is that it could be smoothed into more poetic language. It is heavy with descriptive terms, sometimes to the point where you are doubling them up:

spine and pelvis
coarse and unsteady
tilled and hoed
sparrows and bees
meditate and plant

Descriptive terms, although a form of "showing", can bog a poem down if they are used too much.

Here are some suggestions to streamline the language:

I watched him labour up the path again, as though his
spine and pelvis had fused into one arthritic bone,
I watch him labour up the path again as if
his spine were fused into one arthritic bone,
his walking stick bent like an old pit prop.

I heard that familiar voice, coarse and unsteady
with coal dust, calling to the blackbirds
“Come my little canaries” as he heaved an injured leg
I hear his familiar voice, coarse with coal dust,
calling to the blackbirds, "Come my little canaries",
as he heaves his bad leg over broken stones

over broken stones to the bird table. Somehow,
he still managed the garden, his little patch,
borders tilled and hoed to tempt the foraging robin.
to the bird table [?]. He still manages, somehow,
to garden a little patch of plants, carefully hoeing
the borders to tempt the foraging robins.

He always sat by the back door, alone, spending
hours watching the clouds dissolve; but still smiled
He always sits by the back door, hours spent
watching the clouds dissolve; ...
when I said hello, and sometimes he mentioned The War

and how he met My Eva. The narrow bench he rested on
was her seat, a quiet place to count sparrows and bees,
a private place to meditate and plant rows of memories.

I got a little creative in writing those lines in blue, but the poem as it is doesn't flow as well as it could.

I have a specific suggestion for the ending.

and how he met My Eva. The bench he rests on was once
her seat, now a quiet place to count sparrows and bees,
and meditate on the memories of love now gone to weed. [You could probably cut "now".]

An alternative final line:

and meditate on the memories now overgrown with weeds.

What I'm trying to do in the final stanza is to hammer down the feeling of loss. Regarding memories, my view is that people develop memories while the relationship is ongoing; and then, when the relationship ends, the memories begin to fade. In other words, having a person still in your life helps to keep your memories of that person alive.

Let me get back to the tense of the poem. I think it's especially important to have it in the present tense because you want him to be alive, and Eva to be dead. If the reader is allowed to believe that they are both dead, then this tragedy has passed into history and lost some of its immediacy and poignancy.

I've been a little more aggressive in my crits this time because you have posted so many versions, and I've read it so many times, that it practically feels like it's my poem.

[lotus]

dear JJ

after seeing some of this thread
and mention of Eva's Birds
and Old Miner

i thought of ....how is this voice ?
the dialect ?
how do we hear it ?

and then i thought perhaps Old Miner
might be pronounced as Old Myna
as in Myna Bird

silent lotus


~

[CalebPerry]

Having almost rewritten the poem in my last post, I couldn't help but to finish what I started. I know that rewriting is obnoxious, and I apologize.

Eva's Birds

I watch him labour up the path as if
his spine were fused into one arthritic bone,
his walking stick bent like an old pit prop.

I hear his familiar voice, coarse from coal dust,
calling to the blackbirds, Come, my canaries!
as he heaves his bad leg over broken stones

to the birds’ table. He still manages to garden
a little patch of plants, carefully hoeing
the borders to tempt the foraging robins. He sits

at the back door, spends hours watching the clouds,
but still smiles when I say hello; and sometimes
he mentions The War and how he met My Eva.

The bench he rests on was her seat, now a place
to count sparrows and bees, and meditate
on memories long overgrown with weeds.

[JJWilliamson]

Hi, Perry

Thank you very much for offering such a detailed critique. I appreciate the time and effort required to write in this depth.

Before I start, let me vote again for putting this in the present tense. I searched for the word "tense" and discovered that a lot of people suggested that, so I wonder why you resist it. ...Maybe it's just down to personal preference. I have a present tense version in my notes but currently prefer past tense. That could change.

My reaction to the poem this time around is that it could be smoothed into more poetic language. It is heavy with descriptive terms, sometimes to the point where you are doubling them up: ...Not so sure about that, although I will take a close look again.

spine and pelvis ...A person can move quite freely with a fused spine. My sister had a spinal fusion, to repair a broken back, some years ago and she is still very mobile. Fuse the spine to the pelvis and your goosed.
coarse and unsteady ...One is rough, the other wavering. I see no conflict or doubling up.
tilled and hoed ...It should be reversed, where the hoeing is a form of garden ploughing. Indeed the hoe can be used for a multitude of tasks. Tilling, on the other hand, reduces the soil to a fine tilth. Good catch.
sparrows and bees ...Hmmm. You've lost me here.
meditate and plant ...Ditto

Descriptive terms, although a form of "showing", can bog a poem down if they are used too much. ...Most of the above are either nouns or verbs, although there is a descriptive element.

Here are some suggestions to streamline the language:

I watched him labour up the path again, as though his
spine and pelvis had fused into one arthritic bone,
I watch him labour up the path again as if
his spine were fused into one arthritic bone,
his walking stick bent like an old pit prop.

I heard that familiar voice, coarse and unsteady
with coal dust, calling to the blackbirds
“Come my little canaries” as he heaved an injured leg
I hear his familiar voice, coarse with coal dust, ...I see what you mean but it removes an action. Not sure at this point.
calling to the blackbirds, "Come my little canaries",
as he heaves his bad leg over broken stones

over broken stones to the bird table. Somehow,
he still managed the garden, his little patch,
borders tilled and hoed to tempt the foraging robin.
to the bird table [?]. He still manages, somehow,
to garden a little patch of plants, carefully hoeing
the borders to tempt the foraging robins. ...This seems less poetic to my ear, verging on prose.

He always sat by the back door, alone, spending
hours watching the clouds dissolve; but still smiled
He always sits by the back door, hours spent
watching the clouds dissolve; ... ...The aloneness is critical.
when I said hello, and sometimes he mentioned The War

and how he met My Eva. The narrow bench he rested on
was her seat, a quiet place to count sparrows and bees,
a private place to meditate and plant rows of memories.

I got a little creative in writing those lines in blue, but the poem as it is doesn't flow as well as it could.

I have a specific suggestion for the ending.

and how he met My Eva. The bench he rests on was once
her seat, now a quiet place to count sparrows and bees,
and meditate on the memories of love now gone to weed. [You could probably cut "now".] ...It's all down to personal preference, methinks, and I currently prefer my version.

An alternative final line:

and meditate on the memories now overgrown with weeds.

What I'm trying to do in the final stanza is to hammer down the feeling of loss. Regarding memories, my view is that people develop memories while the relationship is ongoing; and then, when the relationship ends, the memories begin to fade. In other words, having a person still in your life helps to keep your memories of that person alive.

Let me get back to the tense of the poem. I think it's especially important to have it in the present tense because you want him to be alive, and Eva to be dead. If the reader is allowed to believe that they are both dead, then this tragedy has passed into history and lost some of its immediacy and poignancy.

I've been a little more aggressive in my crits this time because you have posted so many versions, and I've read it so many times, that it practically feels like its my poem. ...No prob's. I don't mind tough critique at all, providing the exchange remains civil.

Once again, thanks for the thoughts and suggestions.


Hi, Lotus

dear JJ

after seeing some of this thread
and mention of Eva's Birds
and Old Miner

i thought of ....how is this voice ?
the dialect ? ...A fascinating observation, Lotus, and one I hadn't given much thought to, although I have now. Well, I see the dialect as being northern English, possibly around the Tyneside area, where mining and mines used to be part of the local scenery. Nowadays, where there used to be pitheads, you'll find wide sweeps of grass and parkland. The beaches are clean and the sand yellow.
how do we hear it ?

and then i thought perhaps Old Miner
might be pronounced as Old Myna
as in Myna Bird ...That's pretty much how I pronounce 'miner'.

silent lotus


~

Best to both

JJ

[JJWilliamson]

I think this is a lovely version, Perry, and it reads well to boot. Many of my points, in the above reply to your critique, still apply, but this does read well. I appreciate the effort.

Best

JJ

Having almost rewritten the poem in my last post, I couldn't help but to finish what I started. I know that rewriting is obnoxious, and I apologize.

Eva's Birds

I watch him labour up the path again as if
his spine were fused into one arthritic bone,
his walking stick bent like an old pit prop.

I hear his familiar voice, coarse with coal dust,
calling to the blackbirds, Come, my canaries!
as he heaves his bad leg over broken stones

to the birds’ table. He still manages to garden
a little patch of plants, carefully hoeing
the borders to tempt the foraging robins. He sits

at the back door, spends hours watching the clouds,
but still smiles when I say hello; and sometimes
he mentions The War and how he met My Eva.

The bench he rests on was her seat, now a place
to count sparrows and bees, and meditate
on memories long overgrown with weeds.

[CalebPerry]

Just to clarify, I wouldn't have critiqued so aggressively if you hadn't posted 7 versions of the poem. My feeling was that you were inviting close scrutiny.

[Firebird]

Hi JJ,

Not to take away anything from your original poem, which I still like a lot, but I’ve got to say that Perry’s version is absolutely lovely. We should have a section on this board for that rare occasion when a poem becomes better for being a collaborative effort. I suppose poems becoming a collaborative effort is a risk we all take when posting here. But it doesn’t happen much, and it would happen even less if we didn’t rewrite poems as critiques, but then we wouldn’t have got this.

Cheers,

Tristan

[CalebPerry]

Thank you, Tristan. All I did was to make the poem a little more iambic, which makes it skip along faster. To streamline it a little more, I dropped some descriptive information. Then I added a more poignant ending. However, I couldn't have written this poem from scratch.

[JJWilliamson]

No problems at all, Perry. That's exactly what critique and revision is all about. I thought your critique was marvellous and I'm revising a few lines because of it. I might even venture down the road to present tense.

Just to clarify, I wouldn't have critiqued so aggressively if you hadn't posted 7 versions of the poem. My feeling was that you were inviting close scrutiny.

Thanks, Tristan, for the thumbs up on this ever-morphing poem. I've one more revision to make, then I'll see what I end up with. yes, it's good when the suggestions help to shape a poem. There's quite a few examples in both forums. I know I've benefitted enormously, over the years, from critique and revision and it really is a most satisfying experience.

Best to both

JJ

[lotus]

I might even venture down the road to present tense.

what a lovely cinematic canvas
in that one line !


silent lotus

[NotQuiteSure]

.
Hi JJ,
wonder if it's morphing away from you. Some of the darkness in the original
seems to have fallen by the wayside and I think the piece is starting to suffer
because of that.

S1
think you could cut the 'in' from 'into' and 'his' before 'walking stick'.
Have you come across the term 'sprag' (as an alternative to 'pit prop')?

S2
Should it be 'call' rather than 'calling'
Not convinced by 'heaves' (presumably going for a sack of coal image?)
How does he heave with a walking stick?

S3.
I think L2/3 here are (relatively) weak - be nice to get a better visual
rendering of the garden, how about some colour?
'Managed' I thought was better than 'tends' (here),

S4.
Preferred the 'children' to the 'dissolving clouds'.

S5.
Is 'meditate' a word he'd use?
Doesn't 'planting' imply 'new' memories? (Or is he replanting?)



Regards, Not.

.

[CalebPerry]

I didn't even notice that you had posted a new version -- sorry.

I like this version. It's a little more steamlined, but keeps a few details that I had dropped, and that add to the moodiness of the poem.

In the first stanza, I would prefer "his spine and pelvis were fused".

The only thing I'm still not in love with is your final line. It sounds a bit awkward to me, and I still feel that planting memories isn't the right image for a poem about loss.

Oh, and I'm glad you put it in the present tense. I really do think that was needed. But I'd like to hear how you feel about the change of tense.

Overall, this is a notable improvement.

[1lankest]

Really liking this, Jj. Do you need the second ‘his’ in S1. Also I don’t like the isolated pronoun ‘his’ at the end of line one.

Luke

[churinga]

Hi JJ

spine and pelvis had fused into one arthritic bone,
I wonder if 'hips' would work better than pelvis, pelvis sounds too medical,
or you could have
spine and pelvis fused into ....

I hear his familiar voice, coarse with coal dust,
I would say 'coarse from' it's nitpicking but for me from suggests the past whereas with suggests the present and obviously he has not been a miner for a long time.

calling to the blackbirds “Come my little canaries"
As others have mentioned this is a lovely detail.

He often sits by the back door, alone, spending
'alone ' is redundant.

was her seat, a quiet place to count sparrows and bees,
I want to say 'count the sparrows..

a private place to meditate and plant rows of memories.
'private' is also a bit redundant, given you have already described it as 'quiet'.

I also think the last line doesn't flow as well as it could, 'plant' is the problem,
despite the alliteration with 'private place', it seems to break the rhythm,
Perhaps
A place to meditate while planting rows of memories.

I havn't read other crits so apologies if I am simply repeating ideas already posted.

cheers

Ross

[JJWilliamson]

Thank you very much, Lotus, Not, Perry, Luke and Ross for the generous comments and suggestions. Always appreciated.

.
Hi JJ,
wonder if it's morphing away from you. Some of the darkness in the original
seems to have fallen by the wayside and I think the piece is starting to suffer
because of that. ...I think I'm just about done with this one, Not. There are always possibilities and alternatives and it's now just a matter of selecting the final version. I'll more than likely revisit the poem a later date after one or two final tweaks.

S1
think you could cut the 'in' from 'into' and 'his' before 'walking stick'.
Have you come across the term 'sprag' (as an alternative to 'pit prop')? ...No! Never heard of that one but it's a good local word.

S2
Should it be 'call' rather than 'calling' ...Maybe. I see it as the act of a person who calls.
Not convinced by 'heaves' (presumably going for a sack of coal image?)
How does he heave with a walking stick?

S3.
I think L2/3 here are (relatively) weak - be nice to get a better visual
rendering of the garden, how about some colour?
'Managed' I thought was better than 'tends' (here),

S4.
Preferred the 'children' to the 'dissolving clouds'.

S5.
Is 'meditate' a word he'd use? ...I'm not sure what you mean. It would certainly be part of his vocabulary and well within his grasp.
Doesn't 'planting' imply 'new' memories? (Or is he replanting?) ...It's a metaphor for revisiting memories and love, whilst recalling the happiness of yesteryear.

Regards, Not.

.

I didn't even notice that you had posted a new version -- sorry.

I like this version. It's a little more steamlined, but keeps a few details that I had dropped, and that add to the moodiness of the poem.

In the first stanza, I would prefer "his spine and pelvis were fused". ...It's something that occurred in the past. I'm okay with it.

The only thing I'm still not in love with is your final line. It sounds a bit awkward to me, and I still feel that planting memories isn't the right image for a poem about loss. ...Again, I'm happy with the close, given his calm and serene disposition. His recollections are special to him.

Oh, and I'm glad you put it in the present tense. I really do think that was needed. But I'd like to hear how you feel about the change of tense. ...After much thought I could see no reason to avoid present tense, even though the past tense wasn't exactly offensive. I liked the immediacy of present tense.

Overall, this is a notable improvement. ...Thank you.

Really liking this, Jj. Do you need the second ‘his’ in S1. Also I don’t like the isolated pronoun ‘his’ at the end of line one. ...In out in out shake it all about. I did think about it and eventually opted for its inclusion, but anything could happen. Yes, I could move 'spine' up a line. Will do.

Luke

Hi JJ

spine and pelvis had fused into one arthritic bone,
I wonder if 'hips' would work better than pelvis, pelvis sounds too medical,
or you could have
spine and pelvis fused into ....Ah, the hips are too far over to fuse with the spine, I would have thought. The spine and pelvic girdle are closely interlinked.

I hear his familiar voice, coarse with coal dust,
I would say 'coarse from' it's nitpicking but for me from suggests the past whereas with suggests the present and obviously he has not been a miner for a long time. ...An interesting observation and one I hadn't spotted. Good catch. Consider it changed.

calling to the blackbirds “Come my little canaries"
As others have mentioned this is a lovely detail.

He often sits by the back door, alone, spending
'alone ' is redundant.

was her seat, a quiet place to count sparrows and bees,
I want to say 'count the sparrows... The bees are important to any gardener. He would note them and remember. There's also a cheeky little rhyme with 'memories'.

a private place to meditate and plant rows of memories.
'private' is also a bit redundant, given you have already described it as 'quiet'. ...My garden is very private but it isn't always quiet.

I also think the last line doesn't flow as well as it could, 'plant' is the problem,
despite the alliteration with 'private place', it seems to break the rhythm,
Perhaps
A place to meditate while planting rows of memories.

I havn't read other crits so apologies if I am simply repeating ideas already posted. ...No prob's at all. Your opinions are valuable to me.

cheers

Ross

Thanks again for the great critiques.

Best to all

JJ

I watch him labour up the path, as though his
spine and pelvis had fused into one arthritic bone,
his walking stick bent like an old pit prop.

I hear his familiar voice, coarse with coal dust,
calling to the blackbirds “Come my little canaries"
as he heaves an injured leg over broken stones

to the bird table. Somehow, he still tends the garden,
his little patch, the borders hoed and tilled
to tempt the song thrush and foraging robin.

He often sits by the back door, alone, spending
hours watching the clouds dissolve, but always smiles
when I say hello, and sometimes he mentions The War

and how he met My Eva. The narrow bench he rests on
was her seat, a quiet place to count sparrows and bees,
a private place to meditate and plant rows of memories.