Embers

[brokenbridge]

Revision 2


Wasn't that once us? larking silly limbed
from leather sofa to kitchen sink.

Your laugh, the real one, unrestrained,
with girlish tones would colour

any of those white-painted rooms we
fooled around in. And that smile, so

honest and unrehearsed. We were both
blank canvas's being painted by a crazy

reckless fool. Beside you now at the
kitchen table I stealthy roam you,

spying the dried sleep nestled
in them corner of your blood-shot eyes-

moving down to your tightly pursed
lips. It is Sunday and you are labouring

through old photos of your recently
dead father. You want me close but

at a distance where I
cannot place my hands upon your

hair to vainly stroke away your grief.
There is no less love. I am on fire with it.

There is no right thing to say, so I shift
the salt and pepper pots, sensing this

you suggest we could do with a coffee
smiling as only an actor can.


Revision1

Wasn't that once us? larking from leather
sofa to kitchen sink. All hyper-limbed and happy.

Your laugh, the real one, unrestrained
with girlish tones would colour

any of those white-painted rooms we
fooled around in. And that smile, so

honest and unrehearsed. We were both
blank canvas's being painted by a crazy

reckless fool. Beside you now at the
kitchen table I stealthy roam you,

spying the dried sleep nestled
in them corner of your blood-shot eyes-

moving down to your tightly pursed
lips. It is Sunday and you are labouring

through old photos of your recently
dead father. You want me close but

at a distance where I
cannot place my hands upon your

hair and vainly stroke away your grief.
There is no less love. I am on fire with it.

There is no right thing to say, so I shift
the salt and pepper pots, sensing this

you suggest we could do with a coffee
smiling as only an actor can.





Original

Wasn't that once us? larking from leather
sofa to kitchen sink. Naked as a true reply.

Your laugh, the real one, unrestrained
and layered with girlish tones would colour

any of those white-painted rooms we
fooled around in. And that smile, so

honest and unrehearsed. We were both
blank canvas's being painted by a crazy

reckless fool. Beside you now at the
kitchen table I stealthy roam you,

spying the dried sleep nestled in the
corner of your blood-shot eyes-

moving down to your tightly pursed
lips. It is Sunday and you are labouring

through old photos of your recently
dead father. You want me close but

at a distance where I cannot touch,
cannot place my hands upon your

hair and vainly stroke away your grief.
There is no less love. Here at this table

I am on fire with it so I go to the kettle
because love is not always easy

and you so dearly need a coffee.

[Macavity]

Wasn't that once us? Larking from leather................................like the sense of movement from larking to sink
sofa to kitchen sink. Naked as a true reply.

Your laugh, the real one, unrestrained
and layered with girlish tones would colour.......................layered suggests depth to me,whereas girlish implies the opposite

any of those white-painted rooms we
fooled around in. And that smile, so

honest and unrehearsed. We were both.......................I think unrehearsed does the job and honest is telly anyway
blank canvas's being painted by a crazy

reckless fool. Beside you now at the
kitchen table I stealthy roam you,

spying the dried sleep nestled in the......................like the use of nestled there, but the line break is weak
corner of your blood-shot eyes-

moving down to your tightly pursed
lips. It is Sunday and you are labouring

through old photos of your recently
dead father. You want me close but

at a distance where I cannot touch,.............................................the image of the hands does the job
cannot place my hands upon your

hair and vainly stroke away your grief.
There is no less love. Here at this table

I am on fire with it so I go to the kettle
because [s]love is not always easy[/s]............................again telly, besides the thirst is conveyed with the imagery

[s]and[/s] you so dearly need a coffee.

Please ignore any comments that are unhelpful. Overall some effective phrasing, but felt too much explaining was in the poem.

all the best

mac

[brokenbridge]

Thanks for the feedback Mac

You are quite possibly right about the "telly" bits. I havent wrote anything for about three years so this is probably a consequence of that.

"Layered" Will go. Ending on a "the" is poor!

the use of touch is also a little to much and will also probably go.

Will work on those last few couplets, I sort of signed the poem off in quiet relief.

Regards

Vincent

[Macavity]

Wasn't that once us? Larking from leather
sofa to kitchen sink. Naked as a true reply.

Your laugh, the real one, unrestrained
and shaded with girlish tones would colour

any of those white-painted rooms
we fooled around in. And that smile, so

honest and unrehearsed. We were both
blank canvases being painted by a crazy

reckless fool. Beside you now
at the kitchen table I'm spying

the dried sleep nestled
in the corner of your blood-shot eyes -

I'm roaming down to your pursed lips.
It is Sunday and you are labouring

through old photos of your recently
dead father. You want me close but

at a distance where I cannot place
my hands upon your hair

and vainly stroke away your grief.
There is no less love. Here at this table

there is no right thing to say so I go
to the kettle

for we so dearly need the warmth of coffee.
You smile as only an actor can.

Some suggestions Vincent...just suggestions!

[David]

Hi Vincent.

I like the start, but I'm not wild about either of your alternatives for the second half of L2.

would colour

any of those white-painted rooms we
fooled around in

I like that, though.

You want me close but

at a distance where I
cannot place my hands upon your

hair and vainly stroke away your grief.

And that.

And I like what you're trying to do with the rest of it but, apart from the bits I've quoted above, I think some revisiting is called for. Looking forward to seeing what you do with it, though.

Cheers

David

[JJWilliamson]

Hi Vincent

You have written a moving poem here and have received some great crit's. Some thoughts:

Revision

Wasn't that once us? larking from leather ...why the question mark half way through the sent?ence
sofa to kitchen sink. All hyper-limbed and happy. ...Not sure about the first full stop. I'd place the question mark after 'happy'

Your laugh, the real one, unrestrained
with girlish tones would colour

any of those white-painted rooms we
fooled around in. And that smile, soAuden's

honest and unrehearsed. We were both
blank canvas's being painted by a crazy ...'blank canvas' is a tad clichéd.

reckless fool. Beside you now at the
kitchen table I stealthy roam you, ...Hmm, 'I stealthy roam you' seems awkward to me.

spying the dried sleep nestled
in them corner of your blood-shot eyes- ...typo on 'them'.

moving down to your tightly pursed ...'tightly pursed lips' is a good image but it reminds me of anger rather than grief. Just thinkin'.
lips. It is Sunday and you are labouring

through old photos of your recently
dead father. You want me close but ...'dead' seems harsh. 'old photos of your young father.' The title hints at death so you don't really need to tell me he is DEAD. Still, other writers have used this blunt approach with great success. W.H. Auden's poem 'Stop all the clocks' for example, is as blunt as it gets. He does have supporting imagery though.

"scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead"

at a distance where I
cannot place my hands upon your

hair and vainly stroke away your grief. ... could replace 'and vainly' with 'to'
There is no less love. I am on fire with it. ...maybe something other than 'on fire'. Popped back in to say that it IS powerful and should probably stay. I was thinking about Carol Ann Duffy's poem "Warming Her Pearls." She 'burns' in the close. Don't ask JJ, he'll say both yes and no. Apologies to Tolkien.

There is no right thing to say, so I shift
the salt and pepper pots, sensing this ...love those 'pots'

you suggest we could do with a coffee
smiling as only an actor can. ...If you dropped this line you'd have an understated close. You know, it's a bit like catching a bus. It's a necessary understatement.

I enjoyed reading and thinking about your poem. Please use or lose my suggestions as you see fit.

Best

JJ

[Jackie]

Vincent,

It seems you have received a number of crits to work with; I'd like to underscore how moving this is. Your voice is very strong, and the images are vivid—don't kill these in the revision.

Jackie

[David Smedley]

Hello Vincent, my initial thought on reading, is that the piece is overwhelmingly "telling" me rather than "showing" me, and because of that the piece has (for me) no life. The ratio needs adjusting.

The word combinations also add to the "dead" feel. the whole of the quoted piece below falls into this category for me, and as intimated, coupled with the "telling" it kills the pieces emotional content.

Beside you now at the
kitchen table I stealthy roam you,

spying the dried sleep nestled
in them corner of your blood-shot eyes-

moving down to your tightly pursed
lips. It is Sunday and you are labouring

through old photos of your recently
dead father. You want me close but

at a distance where I
cannot place my hands upon your

hair and vainly stroke away your grief.
There is no less love. I am on fire with it.

There is no right thing to say, so I shift
the salt and pepper pots, sensing this

you suggest we could do with a coffee
smiling as only an actor can.

"Wasn't that once us?" The use of "once" before "us" (line 1) instead of the other way around (Wasn't that us once) kicks of the wooden feel for me.
Rearrangement could be used to the quote below too to give more fluidity to the read.
"And that smile so honest and unrehearsed" seems to be tagged on when read as it is now.

Your laugh, the real one, unrestrained
and layered with girlish tones would colour

any of those white-painted rooms we
fooled around in. And that smile, so

honest and unrehearsed.

Your laugh, the real one, unrestrained,
layered with girlish tones, and that smile

so honest and unrehearsed
would colour any of those white-painted rooms

we fooled around in.

I left the punctuation out after "smile" as the natural line breaks give the pauses, but still let fluidity function (hopefully.)

Couplet 5. Stealthily?

Hope some of this view makes sense. David.

[Macavity]

Something about this Vincent...still hooking me in!

[brokenbridge]

Thanks to ya all for your feedback. Much to ponder here.

Been some time since I felt compelled to actually write anything, so I am happy just to have something written down.

I will need to sit and think about the "to telly" comments, my work has mostly always been via the narrative sense but I always tried to keep away from my work being seen as to "telly" I am wondering if this is just my style gone a little wayward.

anyhow once again many thanks, will see what can be done

Best Regards

Vincent

[Moth]

A few thoughts and suggestions:

from leather sofa to kitchen sink.

I feel you've missed an opportunity here to expand on the playful sexual connotations: perhaps sofa to sink, leather to everything slippery-wet or something along those lines.

any of those white-painted rooms we
fooled around in.

Fooled around doesn't work for me, not snappy enough, perhaps christened or something more original.

We were both
blank canvas's being painted

canvases. I'd also drop the blank.

Beside you now at the
kitchen table I stealthy roam you,

omit kitchen and you.

spying the dried sleep nestled
in them corner of your blood-shot eyes-

typo - the

It is Sunday and you are labouring

Excellent line!

through old photos of your recently
dead father.

possibly drop the 'old' - dead father could be replaced with deceased on its own as this could add impact, the reader not knowing who has died and suggesting it may be more than one.

at a distance where I
cannot place my hands upon your

the line break doesn't work for me... connotations too seedy given what's gone before.

I am on fire with it.

cliche - lose it.

There is no right thing to say, so I shift
the salt and pepper pots, sensing this

is the final word necessary?

you suggest we could do with a coffee
smiling as only an actor can.

- omit 'we suggest.'