The Odor of Rain (working title), ohsteve's eight word challenge Options

[Guest_TheSeasAsleep_*]

I decided to try my hand at ohsteve's eight word challenge.  
mother  voice  cloud  blackberry  needle  whir  cliff  lick

The Odor of Rain

Mother –
she had a voice like a cloud, dark
as a blackberry; sometimes a whisper,
sometimes a singer of thunder.  
All about her was the odor of rain.  
To weather her gentle storms,
her summer rages – quick as needles,
I flung myself from shape to shape,
from child to seagull in a whirring wind;
from daughter into daphne.  

Once I rose against her sky, a cliff
as rough as a lion’s lick, and split
her lightning.  



copyright:  Shanee Gbelawoe, Alaska 2006

[Guest_Nina_*]

Hi Shanee

Well done for this response to Steve's 8 words.  It is fascinating how many very different poems result.  Yours had a similar theme to mine but is very different.

A few thoughts for you to take or leave as you wish.

[add] {delete} comment

Mother –
she had a voice like a cloud, dark
as a blackberry; sometimes a whisper,
sometimes a singer of thunder.   ...I wonder if shout of thunder might be better.  I don't tend to think of thunder as tuneful and it would contrast nicely with whisper.  I also wonder about a line break here.
All about her was the odor of rain.  
To weather her gentle storms,
her summer rages – quick as needles,
I flung myself from shape to shape,
from child to seagull in a whirring wind;
from daughter {in}to daphne.  .. I love the image of you changing from shape to shape to cope with her.  Please could you explain the daphne part, I'm feeling dense and don't get it.

Once[,] I rose against her sky, a cliff
as rough as a lion’s lick, and split
her lightning.  ...wonderful imagery

Thanks for the read

Nina

[Guest_TheSeasAsleep_*]

I know what you mean, Nina.  It's amazing, the variety of results a group of words can produce when filtered through several different minds.   I'm glad you liked the poem.  It gave me some trouble -- I stared and stared at that list, trying to cull something from it!  That's why they call it a challenge, huh?  :)

The "daphne" thing was mainly my roundabout stab at referencing the Daphne of Greek mythology.  To escape the obsessive attentions of Apollo, she ran far and wide but he kept ferreting her out until finally she pled with Artemis for help.  She was then promptly changed into a laurel tree.  Now, Apollo's intentions in the story were amorous but the attentions of the narrator's mother are strictly maternal!    Plus, I wanted her next shape to be a plant and it so happens that there is a daphne plant.  So, it worked out for me.  :D

[Guest_Nina_*]

Hi Shanee

thanks for the explanation, I'm very vague when it comes to mythology.  I'm glad you enjoyed the challenge.  You should try our weekly 10 word challenges. They are great fun to do and certainly get you thinking. This week's has just been posted:

http://forums.mosaicmusings.net/cgi-bin....ry72935

Nina

[Cleo_Serapis]

Hi Shanee.

You have created a coherent poem here with the eight given words. Bravo. I'm not an expert on FV poetry, however, I'd like to suggest a different line structure (take or toss any of the ideas presented) so as to break the thoughts up in a different manner:

Mother –
she had a voice like a cloud, dark
as a blackberry; sometimes a whisper,
sometimes a singer of thunder.  
All about her was the odor of rain.  
To weather her gentle storms,
her summer rages – quick as needles,
I flung myself from shape to shape,
from child to seagull in a whirring wind;
from daughter into daphne.  

Once I rose against her sky, a cliff
as rough as a lion’s lick, and split
her lightning.  

[add] {delete}


Mother –
she had a voice like a cloud,
dark as a blackberry;
sometimes a whisper,
sometimes a singer of thunder. (you might also say 'soloist')

New stanza:
 
All about her was the odor of rain.  
To weather her gentle storms,   (great line)
her summer rages – {quick} [swift] as needles,
I flung myself from shape to shape,
from child to seagull in a whirring wind;
from daughter into daphne.  

Once[,] I rose against her sky,
a cliff as rough as a lion’s lick{,}[;]
and split her lightning.  

Enjoyed!
~Cleo  :sun:

[Cyn]

I think this piece is very strong. I have no major nits. I like quick - brings to mind being hurt to the quick.

Oddly the one line I have trouble with is the last one. Split her lightening.

I know what you intend here (I think) but this phrase kinda made me stop and wonder (not so bad to stop since it IS the end) but I wonder if you might be able to come up with something else. Faced her lightening? Withstood her lightening? I don't know. I am having trouble with the splitting part, the imagery and the idea of what you mean by her lightening being slit.

It is not a huge issue for me and the poem however, just where I had a bump.

[Guest_TheSeasAsleep_*]

I know it has been a while since I have been back here. Life, oh, life, oh, oh, life! I just wanted to thank Cleo and Cyn for their comments, crits and nits.

(oh, and I love the new look of the boards...)