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]

[AMETHYST]

Hi Judi,

I hope you don't mind me bumping this up a bit. I have had limited on line time and hadn't gotten the opportunity to read and comment on this. I've been skimming some of the more recent poems down the page and came across this - I really felt this is strong and it stirred some thoughts.

Of course, anything I leave as per suggestions are free to use or lose and I hope I leave something that is in line with your intent for a finalized poem. What I thought might enhance this was some weeding out of words to sharpen or create a more crisp image through out.

Hugs, Liz ...

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

I thought these opening lines to introduce the connection between the beautiful image and the poem stands strong...

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.

Some thoughts on weeding out here ... Please accept my apology for leaving examples, but I am trying to get some long awaited comments to many posts and am limited for online time - but couldn't get myself to over look this wonderful poem.

As you wake by dawn,
mother holds you close -
she helps you dress,
then places a necklace of bone (line break)
and metal around your neck.
She sighs, (another line break)
daubs your cheeks
with red pigment, and offers (suggested word change)
a coco 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.

Perhaps another word other than 'quickly'
maybe "Your heart quickens' omitting beats/quickly.
In L3, did you mean that God would frown upon, or the gods would frown upon?

Example:

Your heart quickens,
while hiding tears the Gods
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?

People cheer as they walk
with you up the mountain,
nearing the volcano; wondering
why the God wants you
and not a tender goat?

I am trying to offer ideas to weed out the 'you's as I felt there are too many through out each stanza.

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.

To create a forceful tone, perhaps ...

It's cold. The gray shawl
around your shoulders
cannot keep the chill away -
They give you corn liquor (omit to drink)
that burns, as it coats your throat.
Your mind falters, placidly
you sit ... waiting
you fall asleep fretting
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.

Waiting - 500 years ...
sightless eyes closed in death,
frozen hands lay primly
on your lap.

waiting ...

The ending lines I thought to suggest leaving the reader with 'waiting...' to give the reader that momentum of thought provoking silence ...