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> Marta....Revision 5, FV
Judi
post Jun 27 07, 08:51
Post #1


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Marta pushes back a
stray lock of hair as she mops
the floor.

To pass the time, she remembers
the laughter of her children
when they were young,
the smell of stew cooking
on her stove,
the tapping sound of rain
on her slate roof,
her man's arms around her
at night.

She moves stiffly now, and
understands why her mother
was so tired when she came
home each day.
With the last hallway done,
she empties her pail, leaves
her mop to dry, and returns
to her flat over the tailor shop.

Smells from the bakery make
her hesitate, but exhaustion
forces her inside.
I'll make myself a cup of tea,
she thinks, then sits alone
to cry.

-----------------------------

Revision 4

Marta pushes back a
lock of hair as she mops
the floor.
Thinking of brighter days,
she remembers
the laughter of her children
when they were young,
the smell of stew cooking
on her stove,
the sound of rain
on her slate roof,
her man's arms around her
at night.

She moves stiffly now, and
understands why her mother
was so tired when she came
home each day.
With the last hallway done,
she empties her pail, leaves
her mop to dry, and returns
to her flat over the tailor shop.

Smells from the bakery make
her hesitate, but exhaustion
forces her inside.
I'll make myself a cup of tea,
she thinks, then sits alone
to cry.

-------------------------------------------


Revision 3
Marta pushes back a stray
lock of hair as she mops
the floor.
Thoughts of brighter days
fill her mind, as she remembers
the laughter of her children
when they were young,
the smell of stew cooking
on her stove,
the sound of rain
on her slate roof,
her man's arms around her
every night.

She moves stiffly now, and
understands why her mother
was so tired when she came
home from work.
With the last hallway done,
she empties her pail, leaves
her mop to dry, and returns
to her flat over the tailor shop.

Smells from the bakery nearby
make her hesitate, but exhaustion
hastens her walk upstairs with a sigh,
I'll make myself a cup of tea,
she thinks, then sits alone and
cries.


Revision 2
Marta pushes back a stray
lock of hair from her forehead,
as she mops the floor.

Thoughts of brighter days
fill her mind, remembering
the laughter of her children
when they were young,
The smell of stew cooking
on her stove;
the tapping sound the rain
made on her slate roof,
her man's arms around her
every night.

She moves stiffly now, and
understands why her mother
was so tired when she came
home from work.

With the last hallway done,
she empties her pail, leaves
her mop to dry, and returns
to her flat over the tailor shop.

Smells from the bakery nearby
slow her footsteps, but exhaustion
forces her to walk upstairs with a sigh.
I'll fix myself a cup of tea, she thinks,
then sits alone and cries.

========================================


Revision 1
Marta pushes a lock
of greasy hair from her forehead,
and continues mopping the floor.
As she works, she thinks
of brighter days when her
children were still young-
how their laughter echoed
though the house.
She remembers the smell
of stew cooking on her stove;
soft tapping sounds of rain
on the slate roof during a storm;
her man's arms around
her.

She moves stiffly now and
understand why her mother
looked so tired when she
came home from work.
With the last hallway done,
she empties her pail,
leaves her mop to dry,
and walks slowly to her flat
over the tailor shop.
Smells from the bakery nearby
make her hesitate, but exhaustion
makes her go upstairs.
I'll make myself a cup of tea,
she thinks,then sits alone
and cries.


Original Version
The old woman pushes a lock
of greasy hair from her
forehead with a tired arm,
and begins mopping the floor
again.
As she works, she sometimes
remembers brighter days,
the smell of stew cooking on
her stove,
the sound the rain made on her
slate roof,
the laughter of her children when
they were young.
The feel of her mans arms around her
in the middle of the night.

She moves slowly now, but
remembers skipping down the road
with her friends at the end
of her lane when she was sixteen,
and how tired her mother looked
when she came home from work
in the evening.

With the last hallway done, she
empties her pail, then leaves her
mop to dry, and walks slowly
to her flat over the tailor shop.
Smells from the bakery nearby
make her hesitate at her door,
but exhaustion makes her go inside.
I'll make myself a cup of tea she thinks,
and then sits alone and cries.


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Peterpan
post Jun 27 07, 09:19
Post #2


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Hello Judy

I have been reading sad poetry today and it is a cold, snowy day! YES in Johannesburg! SNOW!

This is a beautifully written poem full of happy memories and sad realities. So sad she did not give herself a treat at the bakery!?

I have no nits at present but, will give it more readings and thought.

Thank you for sharing this poem.

PP


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Judi
post Jun 27 07, 13:24
Post #3


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It's 90 degrees in Florida...I moved here to get away from the snow...BUT I have an air-conditioner so all is well! Judi


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Eisa
post Jun 27 07, 17:52
Post #4


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Hi Judi

It's always a pleasure to read your poetry, as you bring life to your stories.
What a poignant tale this one is – well written, except in need of a bit of trimming back. Some thoughts …


The old woman pushes a lock
of greasy hair from her
forehead with a tired arm,
and begins mopping the floor
again.

‘with a tired arm’ sounds a little misplaced to me. Perhaps rearranging to

With a tired arm, the old woman
pushes her greasy hair back,
then mops the floor again.


As she works, she sometimes
remembers brighter days,
the smell of stew cooking on
her stove,
the sound the rain made on her
slate roof,
the laughter of her children when
they were young.
The feel of her mans arms around her
in the middle of the night.



This could be trimmed to --

She works, remembering brighter days:
the aroma of stew on the stove,
the sound of rain on the slate roof,
her children’s youthful laughter
and the embrace of her man
in the middle of the night.


She moves slowly now, but
remembers skipping down the road
with her friends at the end
of her lane when she was sixteen,
and how tired her mother looked
when she came home from work
in the evening.

Perhaps something here to show why she’s slow

Now, her aching joints slow her down,
but she remembers at sixteen,
skipping down the lane with friends.
How tired her mother looked
when she came home.


With the last hallway done, she
empties her pail, then leaves her
mop to dry, and walks slowly
to her flat over the tailor shop.
Smells from the bakery nearby
make her hesitate at her door,
but exhaustion makes her go inside.
I'll make myself a cup of tea she thinks,
and then sits alone and cries.

I would miss out walks slowly here as it’s been mentioned previously, also tailor shop might be offering too much information for conciseness.
Be careful of the ‘makes’ & ‘make’ near the end.

With the last hallway done,
she empties her pail,
leaving her mop to dry.
Approaching her flat, she’s tempted
by the smells from the bakery,
but exhaustion forces her inside.
Thinking of making a cup of tea,
she sits alone and cries.



Take or toss

Snow


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Laugh loud & often - it's medicinal.
Write from the heart - it's therapeutic.
Beauty comes from within - the outer is just skin!

Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more details, click here!

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Guest_Cathy_*
post Jun 28 07, 12:27
Post #5





Guest






Hi Judi,

How my heart aches for this woman. I wonder if the memories help her through the loneliness or just makes it worse? You've left this open enough for the reader to make certain assumptions on their own. Such as have the kids moved too far away to visit often or have they just abandoned her? Is she divorced or has her husband died?

I think it could do with a bit of tightening up. A few suggestions that might give you some ideas... use or lose~

Cathy


The old woman pushes a lock
of greasy hair from her
forehead with a tired arm,
and begins mopping the floor
again.

As the old woman mops
she hesitates,
pushes back a lock of greasy hair
with a tired arm
and finishes her work.


As she works, she sometimes
remembers brighter days,
the smell of stew cooking on
her stove,
the sound the rain made on her
slate roof,
the laughter of her children when
they were young.
The feel of her mans arms around her
in the middle of the night.

She remembers brighter days...
the aroma of stew on her stove,
soft sounds of rain dancing on the slate roof,
her children's laughter,
and the embrace of her man.


I suggested 'soft' in line 3 to avoid a repeat of 'the'. And 'dancing on the slate roof' I thought might be a happier image since she's remembering brighter times. I thought by leaving out the last line it would indicate that she missed his embrace always, not just during the night.


She moves slowly now, but
remembers skipping down the road
with her friends at the end
of her lane when she was sixteen,
and how tired her mother looked
when she came home from work
in the evening.

IMO this verse is trying to compare how she moves now to the memory of how tired her mother was (I could be wrong so you may ignore *smiles*) so I thought rewording it might make that clearer.

Memories of skipping down the road
with friends at sixteen
have faded with the arthritis
that slows her down now,
enhancing the picture of how tired
her mother was at the end of each day.


With the last hallway done, she
empties her pail, then leaves her
mop to dry, and walks slowly
to her flat over the tailor shop.
Smells from the bakery nearby
make her hesitate at her door,
but exhaustion makes her go inside.
I'll make myself a cup of tea she thinks,
and then sits alone and cries.

The last hallway is done.
She puts her things away
and walks slowly to her flat.
Smells from the bakery cause hesitation,
but exhaustion takes her home.

'I'll make a cup of tea'...
then sits alone and cries.


As I said these are just suggestions so use what you can and toss the rest. Or toss the lot if need be. LOL
 
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Judi
post Jun 28 07, 19:33
Post #6


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I want to thank everyone for their much appreciated suggestions, and I know you will all see some of your suggestions in the Revision...I know that because of you all, it has enabled me to do work that is much improved. I loves you all!!!!!!!!!!!!!Judi


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Judi
post Jul 6 07, 11:22
Post #7


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QUOTE (Eisa @ Jun 27 07, 18:52 ) [snapback]98860[/snapback]
The old woman pushes a lock
of greasy hair from her
forehead with a tired arm,
and begins mopping the floor
again.

[b]‘with a tired arm’ sounds a little misplaced to me. Perhaps rearranging to

With a tired arm, the old woman
pushes her greasy hair back,
then mops the floor again.


I did make some changes here...not exactly like yours, but eliminating tired arem and also greasy..

She moves slowly now, but
remembers skipping down the road
with her friends at the end
of her lane when she was sixteen,
and how tired her mother looked
when she came home from work
in the evening.

Perhaps something here to show why she’s slow

Now, her aching joints slow her down,
but she remembers at sixteen,
skipping down the lane with friends.

I have made changes here also! Thanks!

How tired her mother looked
when she came home.


Thanks Snow...

I made quite a few changes and I thank you so much...Judi


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JustDaniel
post Jul 6 07, 20:57
Post #8


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Greetings, Judi...

This is a powerful, powerful, moving poem, IMHO!


[ I love the picture too; telling without saying a word! ]

I'm merely offering some thoughts that come to me as I try to figure out how to write free verse myself. Take or toss my experiments wherever you like! charliebrown.gif


QUOTE
Revision 3

Marta pushes back a stray
[ I like your removal of 'greasy'... but this is a little too dainty, methinks. 'stray' doesn't quite fit ]
lock of hair as she mops
the floor.
Thoughts of brighter days
intersperse her labors --
fill her mind, as she remembers
the laughter of her children
when they were young,
the smell of stew cooking
on her stove,
the sound of rain
on her slate roof,
her man's arms around her
every night.
[ lovely, all! ]

She moves stiffly now (,) and
understands why and recalls her mother's
was so tired when she came
dragging home from work...
tired.
With The last hallway done,
she empties her pail, leaves
her mop to dry, and returns
to her flat over the tailor shop.

Smells from the bakery[...] nearby
make her she hesitates, but exhaustion
hastens her walk upstairs with a sigh,
I'll make myself a cup of tea,
she thinks, then sits alone and
to cry.

dragging myself away, sLightly weary, Daniel sun.gif


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Judi
post Jul 7 07, 09:41
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Thanks Daniel...I have made some of the changes you suggested...Judi


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JustDaniel
post Jul 7 07, 10:03
Post #10


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Hey, Judi...

thanks for letting me 'practice' on you! hersheyskiss.gif I'm very glad that you felt that some things I played with were helpful. That's always gratifying! biggrin.gif

For me, it's the best way to really LEARN. Reading as widely as possible, of course, is the most important way... but for me that has severe limitations. I DO it, but it's a painfully slow process. So... I just plod along... and then attempt to incorporate something thiat I pick up... one step at a time.... probably till I die. I may not ever be GOOD... but I know that I'll keep gettin' BETTER! charliebrown.gif

deLightin' in the process, Daniel sun.gif


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Judi
post Jul 8 07, 14:28
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I think you do a great job, Daniel....Thanks for your help! Judi


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bbnixon
post Jul 8 07, 20:35
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Judi,

Just wanted you to know I really like this, have been following along, love the revision. Very cool beans. I much enjoyed the read.

:) brenda


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Judi
post Jul 8 07, 21:03
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Brenda...thanks so much...I have really worked this one over..I think I have pared it down as much as I can...I feel good about it now...I need a lot of help on circus...I don't know if I can do anything with it, but I'd like to...I think it could be good too but its far from it now...Judi


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bbnixon
post Jul 9 07, 12:02
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Hi Judi,

I am not very skilled in R & M, but I will try to stop by tonight and give it a look see, from a readers perspective. Hope your day is good.

:) brenda


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Judi
post Jul 9 07, 17:10
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QUOTE (bbnixon @ Jul 9 07, 13:02 ) [snapback]99393[/snapback]
Hi Judi,

I am not very skilled in R & M, but I will try to stop by tonight and give it a look see, from a readers perspective. Hope your day is good.

:) brenda


Thanks much...Judi


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Cleo_Serapis
post Aug 28 07, 17:26
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Revision 5 now posted (Judi, it looked like your rev DID work, not sure?).

I deleted the other post...

~Cleo


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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Collaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind.

"I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. Kanter

Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!

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Maggie
post Aug 31 07, 12:06
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Hi Judi,

I read with delight the email which announced this poem! I thought and still think it is masterful!!!

Peggy


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Judi
post Sep 29 07, 20:54
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Dear Peggy...I really appreciate your comments...I have worked hard on this one...Judi


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Judi
post Oct 6 07, 10:46
Post #19


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I want to thank Peggy and every one who helped me with the poem. It is one that will someday be in my book of poetry, which will be of many life experiences in different forms. (((a group hug))) Judi


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