Anna’s Poems
Songs from the South
Reminiscing about lazy childhood days.
“I am ten,” interjected at random, somehow is my favorite line. It’s such an anti-climax after the longer line before it. “Ice cubes are music as they play with my plastic glass.” Vivid. I can imagine this noise. Here’s a question – “fuchsia a stark [contrast?] to their neutrality.” Are yellow and black stripes neutral? They seem kind of flamboyant to me. This poem summons a good feeling, but the descriptions are a little flat. “Soft green grass.” “Billowy white clouds.” These descriptions have been used hundreds of times before. What about a simile or metaphor? Something new and different? Describing the feel of the grass on your body, the feeling that the billowy white clouds give you inside?
My GiantDaughter helping her father deal with the loss of his dog as she attempts to deal with their changing relationship.
“In he comes. He limps now.” Short and abrupt like his movements, perhaps? I like the juxtaposition of, “Me, eager for warm coffee/ Him, eager for warm conversation.” I like the line, “the words and tears work in tandem.” “First supportive, then a traitor to love.” There’s a lot of lines I like in this poem but I don’t feel like it’s very unified. I might describe the poem as haphazard. It’s sort of narrative-like but lacks a narrative’s structure. That is to say, there’s a lot of stuff going on. Perhaps you could use a riff upon you caring for your dad caring for his dog. I don’t know. Think about it.
Israel’s PoemsMy Sons, My DaughtersOf a parent-type figure who is caused pain by his children’s pain, and wants them to understand how incredible he feels they are.
A few things first – a lot of these lines on the second page are rather vague. “In the embrace of her poison/Her deadly bullet?” Who’s poison? Who’s deadly bullet? What is this a metaphor for? I feel like I would get more out of it if I understood what sort of problems these children were grappling with. Also, “Can’t you see you are not this?!?” This type of multiple exclamation/querying to me reads as crazy. More than one punctuation mark reads as crazy. Here’s my main beef with the poem. Is this supposed to be an uplifting poem about the love of this parental figure for his sons/daughters? Because if so, I feel the poem would read better backwards, like if you took each stanza and flipped them in the opposite order, making the last the first and so on. As it is, this poem sort of descends into the sort of cries of psychic pain that I see in a lot of your work. Flip it around, then it begins with psychic pain and ends with the soothing assurances that would make a person feel better.
The WorldThe world is a cold, dark, cruel place redeemed by the fact of love happening upon it.
A lot of this poem is really very vague. Just a for instance: “The dichotomized virtue that is our spring.” I have no idea what that means, but it’s a compelling line, like it grasps at meaning but doesn’t take. I’m willing to work for meaning, but I’m going to need some more hints. And a lot of this poem progresses this way, rushing past vague-but-compelling line after line without any sort of explanation. Slow down a little! Think these lines out instead of just throwing them down. Expand on your thoughts. There are little stories hiding in this poem, craving more solid examples. Real characters instead of archetypes. Real examples of this love, instead of just talking about it. Love is a good message. Talk about it so richly that the whole of the world will want to do it.
Jen’s PoemsLokiMemories of a more innocent life.
I do like the opening lines, including “Our boots smashing the blades/of grass.” This is a solid visual, plus boots on a girl are a signifier. Most girls don’t wear boots. It says something about girls who do. “… armed with Marlboro’s/and cherry Slurpees.” This is an activity I’ve participated in. It is a sort of timeless and careless period. Here’s my question – what are your concerns now, that so contrast these careless times? In the way that one can only have shadows with light, childhood (early/middle teenhood, etc) only seems carefree once one has had real-world experience with which to compare it. Give us some examples of the daily grind. Makes the carefree stuff more cherished.
HeartbreakA girl is involved with a ‘heartbreaker’ that she knows is going to break her heart.
Shades of No Doubt’s “Ex-Girlfriend,” perhaps? Here’s the thing. I want to know the specifics of these other hearts this gentleman has broken, so that I can see the sort of fate ahead of the speaker. If I know how he breaks hearts, I know what this girl is risking. I’d also like to know what’s so great about him that keeps her risking this heartbreak. What sort of new things is he teaching about lust and heartbreak? What exhilarating, clandestine scenarios have they explored on her parent’s couch? I want to hear more about the lust and more about the heartbreak.
Dan’s StoryUtopiaA scientist is in jail after hatching what he thinks is an altruistic plot that ends up causing an awful lot of panic. He’s placed in a cell with one of his patients, and then placed into the Hole for his own safety.
There are like no hints here as to what happened. Not enough clues that an attentive and astute reader could piece it together. That’s kind of unfair. And without knowing what he did, and the reasoning behind it, I find it hard to feel concerned about his welfare. I’m also concerned that he’s naked the whole time. I like the line in the fight scene, “I try to claw at his face but claw nothing but the warm air escaping his nose.” That’s vivid, I can kind of feel the warm air on my own hands. I’d like to see this story starting out with his arrest, perhaps? Like he’s apprehended at the lab (or wherever he does his shadowy deeds), in media res. More and more hints get dropped as he’s booked. Then, in jail, it becomes clear by the others’ reactions to him. The sort of mystery you’re rewarded for unraveling.
