A few days ago I put a poem on my blog and asked for criticism. Thank you to everyone who contributed - it was all so helpful. Even if I didn't always take your advice I did think about it and look at the poem through your eyes for a while. Particular thanks to Poet in Residence, who suggested the spreading out of the first part to suggest the bubble floating - I took that advice; I also took his advice to dispense with the title and use the first line as a title; thanks also to Dominic for telling me (as he always does) to dispense with some of the adjectives. Here is the final version:-
A BUBBLE OF HISTORY
floats without meaning or desire
like a puff of breath
triggered by some sound
or smell
or trick of emotional alchemy.
I am three again.
The Hindenberg fills the sky.
I hear
its low hum
and I am scared.
I hate to go backwards.
A bird sings.
The bubble bursts.
Green hills touch the clouds.
A drop of rain falls on my hand.
Thursday 4 June 2009
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24 comments:
This is wonderful.
Shows what a little tweaking here and there can do to sharpen the impact.
Brilliant, Weaver! It's very powerful and emotive - I thought it was in the first version, but this has even more impact.
This is like a sauce that has been left to simmer, so that the resulting reduction has condensed to a more potent flavour! Well done you.
How much can be conveyed with so few words, when they are the right words. I couldn't see anything wrong with the earlier version, but I can see that this is even better.
I hadn't seen all the room for improvement but I have to say, I am in love with this edited version. Wonderful, freaken wonderful. It speaks so much stronger.
Nicely done! Now, will you send it off to a poetry contest?!
I liked the first one!
But you can never please everyone...
x
I like this one very much, Weaver! That last line is especially marvelous.
I saw the bubble and smelled the memory!
Weaver, I wish I could comment with any authority, but I find your poem very touching.
I'm impressed, Weaver! My kind of poetry.
"A bird sings.
The bubble bursts.
Green hills touch the clouds.
A drop of rain falls on my hand."
Self-evident and perfect in the inevitability of true Poetry.
Well done. Most Pleasurable to imbibe!
Aloha
It has, like breakfast porridge, benefited from a simmer and a stir.
This is a great poem, it captures perfectly how a sensation or smell can bring to mind a memory.
I have been thinking about your last post and how very brave your parents must have been to have a dear one in so much danger.
We all know how very brave our service men and women were but so too were the loved ones left at home, it is hard to imagine how they coped.
Hello Weaver,
Sharpened up and paired down! It's great.
Of course, I meant 'pared' !!
I don't know much about writing poetry, but it sounds good to me, as did the first version.
Thanks for the encouragment. I think there is a find line between tweaking and over-tweaking - and it is very easy to cross that line.
Your comments always spur me on to do more.
Yes, yes, yes. 80)
I would just take out the repeated 'I' from 'and I am scared' - giving:
I hear
its low hum
and am scared.
But if you prefer the rhythm with it, leave it there. ;0)
Absolutely beautiful Weaver. Your poetry is always chalk full of imagery and poignancy.
:)
Lovely. Moving and mysterious.
I never saw the first draft,
this poem is wonderful! Full of the past and the present and unique expression.
I do so look forward to your poetry.
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