I've enjoyed reading through this over and over, looking for something to suggest. I might pause at a line and think, hmmmm.... Is that really the best way to say that? And then think, well, yes.... So I have nothing to offer you, except that I have appreciated you posting this gem.
Heather

I see that the typos have been addressed in other comments. I just thought I'd add that I loved this tender poem. I would rethink 'transparent lacy review', as it doesn't come across as you might have intended.
I love the ending, although the first time I read it through I thought the loss could be seen in your mother's eyes, and on the second read through, I saw it in the eyes of the Narrator. Both interpretations moved me, however, so I'm fine with it.
Heather

I had just read a poem on a similar theme and was just in the mood for this.
L1 is awesome. Perfect. Love it.
I stumbled on L3- I get it, but suggest:

out of gratitude for use

I also found 'but such is life' a bit too colloquial for the piece. If you are really committed to that line, you might consider leaving it as 'such is life'.

I love the ending. A very satisfying piece.

Heather

I used to trust words.

When I was young, words were stones,
some smooth, others with sharp edges
that could catch. We could throw them
at each other, feel the sting, see the mark.
We could build with them- primitive, mad
constructions. A talented few could slide them
across the wet horizon towards forever.

When I became clever, words did, too.
Tricky, with elaborate edges for a puzzle
with no box top but the one in my mind.
Words would hinge together briefly,
as we would glimpse each others’ pictures
and stroke our beautiful chins. I collected
them, boxes and boxes of other people’s words
just to run my fingers over each ticklish edge.

So much so, this addictive pawing polished
the sides smooth and back to stone.
Creamy and flat, they no longer inspired
complicated creations or the need
to cause a cut. Each one lovely, all subtle
vein and hue, I searched the surfaces to catch
myself in that cool reflection. I sat firmly
on the large, duller ones and absorbed the heat.

Sometimes I think I loved them too much,
that I wore them down to pebble, and they are falling
through the cracks. But no,

they are vanishing just beyond my grasp,
these constant companions turned out to be
clouds-now a rabbit, now a unicorn.
They were never something I could hold.

That was just the light-play as this long cold river
slides on past.

I love the revision, partially because I like watching the process and I like reading your feedback on the feedback (normally I would hate that, but you are always respectful and you tend to discuss your process rather than just saying 'I wanted to say X) but mostly because the poem is so much stronger and clearer. I think the title change was perfect- not only because it sets the tone better, but it's an intriguing title that makes me want to read the poem.
I hate to say this but... you've made me have to admit that the ending was right. I'll take one for the team- it works perfectly the way it is (I'll cling to 'it works perfectly with the revised poem, now' but I'll try not to be petulant)
Thank you for sharing the whole thing.
Heather

I really like the concept behind this poem- bringing forth the conflict between the spiritual life and the mundane.
I'm not convinced by the Yes!/NO,/NOT YET!, firstly for the inconsistent punctuation (you quoted the not yet, but not the no) but also because the capitals put me off. It makes sense for what you are trying to convey, but these days it's seems juvenile to me, like the teenagers have co-opted that use... Could just be me, though.
I really enjoyed the second stanza, but was disappointed by the word 'frugal', as it really lacks the idea of 'fully' or 'deeply' and sounds like the N would prefer one superficial life to a series of lives.
But I think the real problem is with the third stanza. This is the soul of the poem, and I think your description here needs to reach a haiku quality, a transcendent natural moment. I think all of the heat of the poem must come from those lines.
I like the final stanza, love the image of the sleeve, but I think the ending would be improved if you didn't give Life a voice, but rather:
Walks away ashamed (of me)

And, in fact, maybe using something with more punch than 'walks'
Hope this helps,
Heather

Luce- those are all really good points. I will most definitely take them into account.

Thanks for taking the time,
Heather

Oh, my goodness- what a pleasure to find this on a Sunday morning! The only minor thing I have to say is that you might want a comma after 'hit', and you should put a full stop at the end. I can't suggest any other changes.
Heather

Thank you all so much for the suggestions. I'm such an obscure writer- I think what I'm trying to say is so clear, and I'm so worried about over clarifying things...Now I think I've made a few changes based on what you've all suggested- including the title- and I hope it all comes clearer.
Maybe you could re-read it as a new poem...who knows?
Heather
PS- thanks again for the feedback!

A country far away as health-

Sylvia Plath, ‘Tulips’

I don’t speak this language. I was never taught
to roll the words.

I see the others strolling forth,
all sunbeams and celestial showers,
secure in their knowledge that blessings
beget blessings, for of course they should.

And I hope for them something small,
a curious cold sore perhaps, or bigger,
crippling chlorophobia would be nice
or anything in between;

an estranged sister
problems with the Prozac
some unforgotten abuse

something
so we could communicate,
if only by signs.


Original
Hale

I don’t speak this language, I was never taught
to roll the words playfully from my tongue.

And I see them strolling forth,
all sunbeams and celestial showers,
secure in their knowledge that blessings
beget blessings, for of course they should.

And I hope for something small,
a curious cold sore perhaps, or bigger,
crippling chlorophobia would be nice
or anything in between;

an estranged sister
problems with the Prozac
some unforgotten abuse

something

so we could communicate,
if only by signs.





.

I like this very much. I like the simplicity and the depth. I'm not a big fan of omitting articles either, although I can see how it might be used to accentuate the theme. I do think the final line adds to the poem,though I agree the repetition of 'I'm' in the last line isn't necessary- however I would suggest that you omit the first 'I'm', instead of the second! Lots of food for thought on this poem, it seems.
Heather

What I absolutely loved about this poem is that you captured the bustle and confusion of the scene in the first stanza, and then you slow it down and pull the reader into your trance, and then speed it up again once the trance is broken. I think that's quite a feat right there.
I didn't actually have any problem with the way you somewhat pushed reality aside in your descriptions during the trance, as I was interpreting it more as a feeling, but I can see you've been given good advice to tighten things up.
Just wanted to add my take on it,
Heather

I find both version a touch obscure, but at the same time intriguing. I love it though when I read a poem and find something I find entirely unique, and for me:

Your smile unlit all possibilities

is just pure genius. Love it.
Heather

Hi there!
I was reluctant reading this at first- three adjectives in the first two lines, almost synonymous.... How silly is that? But they taste so good together, and the scene was set so quickly, I thought to myself, ok, keep going...
And I was completely mesmerized, the images rolling by, the long continuous sentence that slowly pulls the reader forward, that meditative feeling one might get driving at night...
And then a thought left at the end for the reader- makes me think of the said cats leaving a dead mouse for us- first we poke at it a bit, and then think, why were we offered this gift?
I guess you can tell I loved this. I wouldn't change a thing,mor at least I don't know what I could offer to make it better.
Heather

Oh, I wish my husband would write me something like that!
I like the way you've played with sound here, which makes me reluctant to suggest you rephrase the line:
Her favorite mode though?

Maybe because 'mode' doesn't seem right to me, or the fact that it is a question, but of course the mode/though sings there.... Just some thoughts.
Very sweet and probably what we're all hoping for in life....
Heather

Eira, somehow I missed your post, kinda like I missed the typo. I was thinking about your suggestion about the bold print- I like it for the definition, but it seemed awkward at the end, and I think it seems that at to me because I was secretly worried that adding 'decrescendo' was overkill, and detracted from hat as originally the ending, so I removed it.

Sylvia, I'm so happy the poncho spoke to you. And thank you for the feedback.


I will add that I hadn't written a poem in maybe a year, maybe forever, I don't know. But I was skyping my mom, who has Alzheimer's, and for the first time she said, 'whoever you are'. This was my way of dealing with it, so I appreciate all the kindnesses I've received. :)

I sorry I misspelled it, which might mean I was pronouncing it wrong in my head, too. I was referring to the words sounding the same, not being written the same. I think it's clear that it's a well known name, even if I wasn't familiar with it.

I swear I posted a reply to this, but I can't see it now....my mind must be going!

I loved this song to a troubled Earth. Beautiful.
I think my favorite lines are:
hen evening glooms icy paths on slopes,
he’ll be a shadow of shades
in the glimmer of wasted moons -


The biggest nit I have is the removal of the article before:
Biting breeze

It's unnecessary and it's not part of a greater technique throughout the poem.

Such a small nit, really.

Heather

I really like this. I think you capture the feel of the place in very few lines. I think the ending is beautifully painful.
Although I understand the wordplay between 'weathered' and 'Weatherspoons', I found it distracting. Additionally, I struggled with 'climes sees' For me, you have a plural subject and a singular verb, but I know this is sometimes different in different areas. I couldn't find any examples of this online, so I'm wondering if it's correct...

But besides that, loved it, really.
Heather

Critter! Thank you so much for the help- I think you pushed me in the right direction, or at least your comments led me to something that I found deeply satisfying.... so thank you... I hope you like the changes...

Ooohh- I, for one, love that!

This is lovely! The revision seems to be working well. I guess I can see the point of not using 'colts and fillies', but I don't think 'offspring' works that well either. Would it be too weird to just say:
her own,
now stallions and mares

I'm sure you'll find something that clicks. I really like this poem though.
Heather

Eira- thanks so much for the help- I made some changes, but I'm having trouble letting go- I'm a bit rusty at writing and even more so at revision....

Sylvia- That was so kind of you to come back and offer more guidance. I really appreciate it... I'm working on it...

Luce- Thank you so much for your comments! One of the things I love about poetry is hearing different interpretations. I don't like trying to 'explain' a poem post facto, but basically I either enjoy someone else's take on what I've written, or accept the fact that I didn't get my message across correctly. I've tried to tweak this one in the hopes of it becoming clearer,(I really meant something quite different) but like I said above I'm having a hard time letting go of some of this, so I'm not very sure this first revision has solved much of anything... But your comments were very helpful.

Luce-
Well done! I was following along until 'da bomb' and paused to scratch my head... I think that's what makes this work so well for me- the gotcha is even better because you gave us a hint, warned us not to take it too seriously...and I fell for it anyway! Thank you for the smile!
Heather

Weaver- I'm so sorry for you loss. You've written a lovely tribute here.
Heather