La Doncella...Revision 3...Drastic Revision, FV Options

[Judi]

Revision 3
Sweet maiden, this is the day
of Festival of the corn god.

As you awake at dawn,
your mother holds you close before
she helps you dress,
then places a necklace of bone and metal
around your neck.
She sighs as she daubs your cheeks
with red pigment, and gives
you coca leaf to chew.

Your heart beats quickly,
and you hide tears the god
would frown upon.
You must be brave and smile
as you present yourself to him.

You hear people cheer as they walk
with you up the mountain to the volcano;
you wonder why the god wants you
and not a tender goat?

It is so cold, and the gray shawl
around your shoulders does not
keep the chill away.
They give you corn liquor to drink
that burns as it enters your throat.
Your mind falters as you sit placidly
waiting...you fall asleep wondering
when he will come.

You have been waiting for 500 years...
your sightless eyes closed in death,
your frozen hands lay primly on your lap.

He did not come
He will never come.

Judith Labriola


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Revision 2
Sweet maiden, this is the day
of the Harvest Festival
When you awake at dawn,
your mother holds you close
before she helps you dress,
then places a necklace of bone and metal
around your neck.
She sighs as she daubs your cheeks
with red pigment, and gives
you cocoa leaf to chew.

Your heart beats quickly,
and you hide tears that the god
would frown upon..
you must be brave and smile
as you present yourself to him.

You hear people cheer as they walk
with you up the mountain to the volcano;
you wonder why the god wants you
and not a tender goat?

It is so cold, and the gray shawl
around your shoulders does not
keep the chill away..
They give you corn liquor that burns
like fire as it enters your throat.
Your mind falters as you sit placidly
waiting...you fall asleep wondering
when he will come..

You have been waiting for 500 years;
your sightless eyes closed in death,
your frozen hands folded primly on your lap.

His day will never come!


Judith Labriola

Here is the story that inspired this poem..

http://news.aol.com/story/ar/_a/incan-mumm...S00010000000001




Original Version...

La Doncella you are clothes
in fine garments,
and around your neck is a necklace
of bone and metal.
Dormant hands lay primly on your lap...
sightless eyes are closed in death.

The gentle expression on your face.
belies the 500 years you've slept
a frozen death on that precipice
in Argentina,
a human sacrifice to the Inca God
of the Corn Harvest.

Was there a procession the day
of the Festival?
Did the crowd cheer you on, and carry
you on their shoulders as they walked
up the mountain?
Did you feel sorrow, knowing
this was the end of your short
time on earth?
We'll never know.

Perhaps you were perfectly
preserved for five centuries
to let others know that this
is not a gift any god wants!
--

Judith Anne Labriola

[/center]

[Merlin]

Hello Judi,

I must agree with Jax that this is too telly and lacking in showy. I’ll illustrate a little below, but first, a short ramble. Bear with me.

Archeologists do one thing – they declare pretty well everything as some sort of religious event. In this case, the mummy is a sacrifice to the gods, but who really knows for certain. She might have been out with her family gathering food high in the mountains, and met with a fatal accident. Her folks, skilled in the art of mummification, decided to leave her there, instead of packing the body back down for burial. She might have been a victim of foul play being out with someone, exploring the mountain meadows. Point being, we don’t know for sure and therefore, your window is open to create a story.

Sacrificial persons, as I have read, were reared from childhood because of their good looks. They were treated as, and considered god-like. It was their duty in life to be a sacrifice, so they were prepared for that event. Today’s suicide-bombers also sacrifice themselves, for a belief that I’ll never understand. Point is, you could make her a god-like person and give the reader some color in your poem.

Now the poem – V1,
La Doncella, you are clothed
in fine garments,
and around your neck is a necklace
of bone and metal.
Dormant hands lay primly on your lap...
sightless eyes are closed in death.

L1 states she is clothed. Is that the best verb you could find?
L2 says in garments. What else would she be clothed in? Does the reader know if she wore silk, burlap, evening gown, pantaloons, or any sort of material?
L3 tells me she wore a necklace around her neck. Hey – who would have guessed the necklace is around the neck? That’s called redundant, tautology, pleonasm, etc.
L4 says it’s bone and metal. Ok, what kind of metal? Gold, silver, bronze, iron, or nun of the above.
L5 – I’ve gotten to where the three dots are annoying, even while I am very guilty of their use myself.
L6 – once again, redundancy of sightless – closed – death. I’d suggest the sightless eyes seeing the rain-god, or whoever was the sacrificial beneficiary. It would encapsulate the death situation.



There tis. I’ve given a few ideas that hopefully will be helpful. You certainly have the subject matter, and with a bit of creativity, a story to be told. Good Luck.

Merlin