The illusion of choice

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Suzanne
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Fri Sep 11, 2015 1:01 pm

The illusion of choice

Little pebbles nest in grooves
on my front steps, discarded
by summer shoes before reaching
the threshold of my house. I wonder

if any of them are disappointed
they didn't make it inside. And
how long I will let them be still
before sweeping them back into the yard.

We drove the interstate last week,
choirs of Christmas trees stranded
in the grassland between north
and south lanes. And I wonder

if they feel season after season pass by
knowing they will never make it
over the highway
and into the safe hiding of the woods.

Each morning, I see an old woman,
grey head like the prow of a ship,
hunched forward, moving with full steam
on the sidewalk near my home.

Arms keeping time with her crooked gait,
she personifies the word:
Determined. I used to wonder
if she felt a rush

of adrenaline from the race,
but have come to think she's not
as concerned about being on time
as she is about not getting stuck.





.
Last edited by Suzanne on Thu Aug 11, 2016 4:47 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Ros
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Fri Sep 11, 2015 1:48 pm

Good one, Suzanne. Great sense of progression though the poem.
Rosencrantz: What are you playing at? Guildenstern: Words. Words. They're all we have to go on.
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ray miller
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Fri Sep 11, 2015 5:44 pm

Very good. Wouldn't change much at all. Maybe get rid of the colon and put Determined in italics.
I'm out of faith and in my cups
I contemplate such bitter stuff.
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JJWilliamson
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Fri Sep 11, 2015 6:57 pm

The title says it all, Suzanne

I enjoyed this poem, its progression and poetics, which slip inobtrusively into the background.
Some lovely thoughtful observations.


Suzanne wrote:The illusion of choice

Little pebbles nest in grooves
on my front steps, discarded
by summer shoes before reaching
the threshold of my house. I wonder ...Very nice assonance throughout, especially pe, ne, ste, thre and the accompanying hissing sibilance.

if any of them are disappointed ...The hard 'I' dominates this stanza nicely.
they didn't make it inside. And
how long I will let them be still
before sweeping them back into the yard. ...I like these two stanzas in their entirety. Loved the stress on AND. Very good, I'll remember that little trick.

We drove the interstate last week, ...Compressed American English methinks. :)
choirs of Christmas trees stranded ...loved 'choirs' and 'Christmas'.
in the grassland between north
and south lanes. And I wonder ...Hard 'a' dominates. This can't be an accident, surely.

if they feel season after season pass by...Good half rhymes
knowing they will never make it
over the highway
and into the safe hiding of the woods. ...The soft 'a' makes an entrance.

Each morning, I see an old woman,
grey head like the prow of a ship,
hunched forward, moving with full steam ...mor, for
on the sidewalk near my home. ...like the morning/moving rhyme

Arms keeping time with her crooked gait,
she personifies the word:
Determined.
And I've wondered if she feels ...her, per, deter, wonder. :)

a rush of adrenaline from the race, ...like rush, race
but have come to think she's not
as concerned about being on time
as she is about not getting stuck. ...from, not, con, on. All good stuff.
Can't see anything to change. Ray has a point.

Best

JJ
Long time a child and still a child
SteveR
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Fri Sep 11, 2015 8:06 pm

Suzanne,

Great poem indeed. I am in agreement with the others. I certainly would not have the expertise to suggest changes that JJ or Ray didn't uncover.

After multiple times reading it (and each time finding a new gem), I was struck by the comment of traveling along the north-south lanes. I get a solid sense of determination and perseverance. That, the title, and the last line (about not getting stuck), made me think the narrator was traveling northward, as an off-hand reference to the commonly used metaphor of finding true north in one's life.

Excellent. Loved it.

Steve
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Sat Sep 12, 2015 9:21 am

I like this, both its imagery and its thoughts. Each line adds effectively to the overall feeling.
Best regards,

Alan
Suzanne
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Tue Sep 15, 2015 6:32 am

Thank you all. I am surprised at the positive replies. It seemed such a task figuring out how these three things could be tied together. I am pleased you think i've pulled it off. And happy if the pace is good.

JJ, you give me way to much credit for thoughtfulness, if i do those things, i am unaware of it. I feel writing poetry is like dancing with a partner, I try to stick close and follow. Lol.


Warmly,
Suzanne
HenryBones
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Tue Sep 15, 2015 12:30 pm

Lovely. A couple of (very) minor gripes: could you soften the full rhyme of 'grooves' and 'shoes' in stanza 1 which smothers some of the softer sound effects JJ so deftly brought out, and possibly change of 'crooked gait' ('listing gait'?) and 'stuck' ('caught'?) - they don't have quite the right resonance for me.

Otherwise, a pleasure as always,

Thanks for the read
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Tue Sep 15, 2015 1:16 pm

I did wonder a bit if the middle section really fitted the rest, but decided the poem would be poorer without it.

Ros
Rosencrantz: What are you playing at? Guildenstern: Words. Words. They're all we have to go on.
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David
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Sat Sep 19, 2015 11:18 am

I think this is really good, Suzanne. The only thing I think I'd like to see changed is this:

she personifies the word:
Determined.


This - to use the hoariest cliché in the book - is simply telling, not showing. Two more lines of lovely description and you'll have a fine thing here. It's fine already.

Cheers

David
Suzanne
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Sat Sep 19, 2015 11:24 am

Thank you Henrybones. I will think on all of those suggestions! I had put this into my drawer but it looks like i have more to think about.

You too David! Yes, i think you may be right about changing it. I will think...

Ros, that you for your reply. I think that the images of the boy is quite unsettling. Unpleasant. And yet puts my seemingly big disruptions into perspective. We surely have seen this month that it is amazing what people can live through.

Thank you for your support and encouragmenent.

Warmly,
Suzanne
Suzanne
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Mon Sep 21, 2015 12:30 pm

Ros- Oh, lol, who can blame me for getting all my tree poems mixed up? Lol.

Focus, Suzanne, try to focus.
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