She told me about her grandfather's hands-
Old, inept, blue veined and twisted.
Then frowned, looking at her fingers.
The photo in her living room captured him-
And his son, immobile behind the glass,
Bald, and his son, slightly.
Stains on her white carpet,
Where a heavy chair once rested,
That perhaps held him as he died.
You can see, deep in her worry-lines-
That she sees herself, gray and frail,
Like him, in the heavy chair.
this probably needs some work..
No problem.
I like it just fine, this is a good poem. I have no major criticisms - maybe look at punctuation and caps. An edited version might look like this:
She told me about her grandfather's hands -
old, inept, blue-veined and twisted -
then frowned, looking at her fingers.
The photo in her living room captured him
and his son, immobile behind the glass,
bald, and his son, slightly.
Stains on her white carpet,
where a heavy chair once rested
that perhaps held him as he died.
You can see, deep in her worry-lines
that she sees herself, gray and frail,
like him, in the heavy chair.
But that's easy to fix. The hard work is behind you - making it straightforward, perceptive, easy to follow, nicely paced and imaged. Good work!
- Caleb
I like it just fine, this is a good poem. I have no major criticisms - maybe look at punctuation and caps. An edited version might look like this:
She told me about her grandfather's hands -
old, inept, blue-veined and twisted -
then frowned, looking at her fingers.
The photo in her living room captured him
and his son, immobile behind the glass,
bald, and his son, slightly.
Stains on her white carpet,
where a heavy chair once rested
that perhaps held him as he died.
You can see, deep in her worry-lines
that she sees herself, gray and frail,
like him, in the heavy chair.
But that's easy to fix. The hard work is behind you - making it straightforward, perceptive, easy to follow, nicely paced and imaged. Good work!
- Caleb
"Don't treat your common sense like an umbrella. When you come into a room to philosophize, don't leave it outside, but bring it in with you." Wittgenstein
uhhh that's a little harder. I'll think on it.
What inspired it? (These are just aside questions, I am interested.)
What inspired it? (These are just aside questions, I am interested.)
"Don't treat your common sense like an umbrella. When you come into a room to philosophize, don't leave it outside, but bring it in with you." Wittgenstein
-
Ray Trivedi
the third stanza seems vague, in the first line "him" being grandad (and his son in the second line), is his grandson in third line? I say this because of the comma suggesting something like it.
Sorry, not the third I meant the second.
I think it's best if the author fixes it.
Sorry, not the third I meant the second.
I think it's best if the author fixes it.
Last edited by Ray Trivedi on Sun Jan 15, 2006 9:01 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I like it think it read and flowed well.
Title who knows?.How about Times Scars....
Good piece Yesterday..
Tom...
Title who knows?.How about Times Scars....
Good piece Yesterday..
Tom...
Last edited by Thomas on Fri Jan 13, 2006 2:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Imagination is more important than knowledge,knowledge is limited imagination encircles the world.
the third line I have know idea how to fix, maybe you could help a little, but it supposed to be his son, not grandson
What inspired it, well... when I was about ten the old lady next door died, since I had no grand parents she was pretty much a substitute. I remember her favorite chair beside the fire, her worn arthritic hands, the photo's of her sons and long-dead husband. But since her death I’ve always thought about how you see people's body's age and how they worry about turning out looking like their parents in old age. I suppose that’s what inspired it, I never really though about that, I just wrote.
'times scars', its a good idea, but not really what I’m looking for, its a soft poem, and ... perhaps I’ll call it 'velvet wrinkles'... I don't know, what do you think?
cameron, what are you on about with 'TG?' ????
What inspired it, well... when I was about ten the old lady next door died, since I had no grand parents she was pretty much a substitute. I remember her favorite chair beside the fire, her worn arthritic hands, the photo's of her sons and long-dead husband. But since her death I’ve always thought about how you see people's body's age and how they worry about turning out looking like their parents in old age. I suppose that’s what inspired it, I never really though about that, I just wrote.
'times scars', its a good idea, but not really what I’m looking for, its a soft poem, and ... perhaps I’ll call it 'velvet wrinkles'... I don't know, what do you think?
cameron, what are you on about with 'TG?' ????
-
twoleftfeet
- Perspicacious Poster
- Posts: 6761
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Nice one.
Favourite image: "deep in her worry-lines"
Can I make one suggestion?
I stumbled over this line:
"That perHAPS HELD him as he DIED"
how about
"Perhaps it held him as he died" Or "that might have held him...."
Cheers
Geoff
Favourite image: "deep in her worry-lines"
Can I make one suggestion?
I stumbled over this line:
"That perHAPS HELD him as he DIED"
how about
"Perhaps it held him as he died" Or "that might have held him...."
Cheers
Geoff
oh yes, of course, can't forget about meter...
"Don't treat your common sense like an umbrella. When you come into a room to philosophize, don't leave it outside, but bring it in with you." Wittgenstein