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The Old Armchair (Tweaked 19/04/07), Wizard Award ~ memories |
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Feb 21 07, 18:38
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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The Old Armchair (tweaked 19/04/07) Merging with mizzle I turn Mam’s front door key, numbed by emptiness until I step into her parlour: gold velour drapes the window bay; keepsakes swamp the sill. Her talent paints the walls exhibited in oils. Centre floor, a sheepskin hugs my feet in luxury. I brush with guests, once ushered in for tea and cakes, warmed by their chatter always tinged by laughter. When the alien scrambled her mind, visitors dwindled with her memory. They won’t seek hospitality in her nursing home. I sift though drawers, see my grandparent’s smiling faces. China ladies dance in a box with glass fish. Reminiscences blur, until two burly men arrive to collect the borrowed hospital equipment. Her armchair stands alone. I sit on the faded velvet, nudging back the years to … smooching on the matching sofa breathless with love …. waiting with Dad for my wedding car nerves gnawing inside… cushioned, I nursed my boys, inhaling their baby scents, while lulling them to sleep … over-feasted on Boxing Days, we piled in, sipping the mellow atmosphere. I caress the cherished arms, swathed in auld lang syne, sensing her comforting aura… It’s only a chair, love.Outside the clouds open; releasing a deluge I whisper Yes ... a chair padded with nostalgia.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Old Arm Chair (third revision) March 29th 2006 Merging with mizzle I turn her front door key, numbed by emptiness until I step into Mam’s parlour: gold velour drapes the window bay; keepsakes swamp the sill. Her talent paints the walls exhibited in oils. Centre floor, a sheepskin hugs my feet in luxury. I brush with guests, once ushered in, for tea and cakes, warmed by their chatter tinged by laughter. The alien scrambled her mind; visitors dwindled with her memory. They won’t seek hospitality in her nursing home. I sift though drawers, see grandparent’s smiling faces. China ladies dance in a box with glass fish. Reminiscences blur, until two burly men arrive to collect hospital equipment. Her armchair stands alone. I sit on faded velvet, nudging back the years to … smooching on the matching sofa breathless with love ... …
waiting with Dad for my wedding car nerves gnawing inside ...…
cushioned, I nursed my boys, inhaled their baby scents, lulling them to sleep ... … over-feasted on Boxing Days, we piled in, sipping the mellow atmosphere.I caress the cherished arms, swathed in auld lang syne, sensing her familiar aura… It’s only a chair, love.Suddenly, a cloud bursts outside; tears splatter as I whisper Yes … a chair padded with nostalgia.******************************* The Old Arm Chair (second revision) Merging with the mizzle I turn her front door key shivering at the emptiness, then step in Mam’s parlour: gold velour drapes the window bay; the sill is still swamped with keepsakes. Oil paintings decorate walls exhibiting her talent. A sheepskin rug, centre floor, hugs my feet into its luxury. I brush with guests once ushered in for tea and cakes, warmed by their chatter tinged by laughter; then the alien scrambled her mind and visitors dwindled with her memory. I fear they won’t seek her hospitality in the nursing home. Sifting though drawers and shelves, I reminisce with family photographs and sentimental heirlooms, then supervise the removal of hospital equipment; her armchair stands alone. I sit on faded dappled velvet, nudging back the years to … smooching on the matching sofa breathless with love ...….
waiting with Dad for my wedding car nerves gnawing inside…...
cushioned on this chair I nursed my baby boys, inhaled their baby scents, lulling them to sleep ...… over-feasted on Boxing Days, we piled in here, sipping the comfy atmosphere.For a final time I stroke the cherished arms, while swathed in auld lang syne; I sense her familiar aura.… It’s only a chair, love.My tears splatter with a sudden cloud burst outside; Yes, I whisper … a chair padded with memories.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Old Arm Chair -- FIRST REVISION Emotions merge with grey sky as I turn her front door key. Everywhere looks abandoned except Mam’s parlour: understated in grandeur, gold velour drapes the window bay, while the sill is swamped with keepsakes. A sheepskin rug, centre floor hugs my feet into its deep pile. Guests were ushered in here for cups of tea and cakes. I can still hear their chatter warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind; I know she’ll be forgotten in the nursing home. I sift though drawers and shelves and supervise the removal of hospital equipment. The sofa has long resided in the garage, now her old armchair stands alone. Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, nudging back the years, to smooching on the brand new sofa breathless with love ... …
waiting with Dad for my wedding car nerves gnawing inside ...…
cushioned on this chair I nursed my baby boys, inhaled their honeyed fragrance ... … over-feasted on Boxing Days, we piled in here, sipping the cosy atmosphere.Stroking the familiar arms for a final time, as the past wraps around me, I can almost hear her voice It’s only a chair, loveMy tears sprinkle like the showers outside. Yes, a chair full of memories.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Old Armchair My mood mirrors the grey sky as I turn the front door key, relieved to shelter from the deluge. All rooms look abandoned -- except Mam’s best room It’s dated appearance has an understated grandeur. Gold velour drapes the window bay; the sill is swamped with keepsakes. A sheepskin rug, centre floor hugs my feet into its deep pile. Guests would be ushered in here for cups of tea and cakes. I still hear their chatter warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind and visitors dwindled. I doubt she’ll have any callers at the nursing home. I sift though drawers and shelves -- supervise the gathering of hospital equipment. Two armchairs now stand alone, the sofa has long resided into the garage, giving way for a downstairs bed. Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, my mind somersaulting back through the years. The room nudges me with reminiscences … courting days, smooching on the sofa breathless with love ...
waiting with Dad for my wedding car -- nerves gnawing inside ... …
cushioned on this chair I nursed my baby boys, inhaled their honeyed fragrance ... … over-feasted, on Boxing Days, we piled in here, drinking up the cosy atmosphere.Stroking the familiar arms for a final time, the past wraps around me so tears tumble like the showers outside. I sense a rush of warmth -- a celestial embrace. ‘It’s only a chair, love’
‘I know, Dad -- a chair full of memories’
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Feb 22 07, 15:50
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 3,446
Joined: 16-October 06
From: UK
Member No.: 298
Real Name: Alan McAlpine Douglas
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori/Eisa/loads of old friends
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The Old Armchair
My mood mirrors the grey sky as I turn the front door key, relieved to shelter from the deluge.
All rooms look abandoned -- except Mam’s best room
It’s dated appearance has an understated grandeur. Gold velour drapes the window bay; the sill is swamped with keepsakes. A sheepskin rug, centre floor hugs my feet into it’s deep pile.
Guests were once ushered in here for cups of tea and cakes. I still hear their chatter warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind and visitors dwindled. I doubt she’ll have any callers at the nursing home.
I sift though drawers and shelves -- supervise the gathering of hospital equipment. Two armchairs now stand alone, the sofa has long been carried into the garage, making space for a downstairs bed.
Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, my mind sauntering back through the years.
The room nudges me with reminiscences …
courting days, smooching on the sofa breathless with love ...
waiting here, with Dad for my wedding car -- nerves gnawing me inside …
cushioned on this chair I nursed my baby boys inhaling their honeyed fragrance …
when over-feasted, on Boxing Days, we piled in here, drinking up the cosy atmosphere.
Stroking familiar arms for a final time, the past wraps around me so tears tumble like the showers outside.
I sense a rush of warmth -- a celestial embrace.
‘It’s only a chair, love’
‘I know, Dad -- a chair full of memories’Dear Snow,
Excellent - a great memory lane poem, happiness tinged with sadness too.
By way of polishing up the facets of this gem :
The Old Armchair
My mood mirrors the grey sky as I turn the front door key, relieved to shelter from the deluge.
All rooms look abandoned -- except Mam’s best room
It’s dated appearance - its no apost ! has an understated grandeur. - del an ? Gold velour drapes the window bay; the sill is swamped with keepsakes. A sheepskin rug, centre floor hugs my feet into it’s deep pile. - no apost !
Guests were once ushered in here - guests wouls be .. ? for cups of tea and cakes. I still hear their chatter warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind and visitors dwindled. I doubt she’ll have any callers at the nursing home.
I sift though drawers and shelves -- supervise the gathering of hospital equipment. Two armchairs now stand alone, the sofa has long been carried - has long resided in the garage ? into the garage, making space - giving way ? for a downstairs bed.
Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, my mind sauntering - sauntering seems to nice - somersaulting ? back through the years.
The room nudges me with reminiscences …
courting days, smooching on the sofa breathless with love ...
waiting here, with Dad - del here ? for my wedding car -- nerves gnawing me inside … - del me ?
cushioned on this chair I nursed my baby boys inhaling their honeyed fragrance … - inhalED ?
when over-feasted, - del when ? on Boxing Days, we piled in here, drinking up the cosy atmosphere.
Stroking familiar arms - add “the” famil ... ? for a final time, the past wraps around me so tears tumble - del so ? like the showers outside.
I sense a rush of warmth -- a celestial embrace.
‘It’s only a chair, love’
‘I know, Dad -- a chair full of memories’
LOVELY ending !
Love Alan
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Feb 22 07, 19:02
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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Dear Alan These are just the suggestions I'm looking! Thanks! Love Snow
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Guest_ohsteve_*
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Feb 24 07, 16:24
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Guest
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Snow,...in this stanza..... Guests would be ushered in here for cups of tea and cakes. I still hear their chatter warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind .........here are you talking about a disease or a cancer or a real alien?
and visitors dwindled. I doubt she’ll have any callers at the nursing home.
Steve
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Feb 24 07, 22:30
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 18,656
Joined: 2-August 03
From: Southwest New Jersey, USA
Member No.: 6
Real Name: Daniel J Ricketts, Sr.
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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Ah, Snow... as I started to comment, my eyes drooped and my fingers held theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee keys down................. so I guess I'll have to come back tomorrow.... unless I'm in the nursing home... sLightly weary, Daniel
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Guest_Cathy_*
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Feb 25 07, 10:34
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Guest
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Hi Snow,
I wanted to let you know I've been here. This reminds me of my grandma's front room and how I loved to sit in her rocking chair.
I'm working on a crit and will get it posted as soon as possible. This has so much potential! It brings out some long forgotten memories and emotions for me and it's been a pleasant journey... as I'm sure it has been for you.
Be back soon...
Cathy
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Feb 27 07, 05:35
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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QUOTE (ohsteve @ Feb 24 07, 21:24 ) [snapback]91844[/snapback] Snow,...in this stanza..... Guests would be ushered in here for cups of tea and cakes. I still hear their chatter warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind .........here are you talking about a disease or a cancer or a real alien?
and visitors dwindled. I doubt she’ll have any callers at the nursing home.
Steve Hi Steve 'the alien' refers to he Alzheimer's which scrambled up her memory. have you any suggestions to make this line clearer? Thanks Snow
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Feb 27 07, 05:39
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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QUOTE (JustDaniel @ Feb 25 07, 03:30 ) [snapback]91849[/snapback] Ah, Snow... as I started to comment, my eyes drooped and my fingers held theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee keys down................. so I guess I'll have to come back tomorrow.... unless I'm in the nursing home... sLightly weary, Daniel Hi Daniel I look forward to your return as your critiques are always so helpful -- and I amd stuck for ideas on this one! Thanks Snow
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Feb 27 07, 05:42
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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QUOTE (Cathy @ Feb 25 07, 15:34 ) [snapback]91872[/snapback] Hi Snow,
I wanted to let you know I've been here. This reminds me of my grandma's front room and how I loved to sit in her rocking chair.
I'm working on a crit and will get it posted as soon as possible. This has so much potential! It brings out some long forgotten memories and emotions for me and it's been a pleasant journey... as I'm sure it has been for you.
Be back soon...
Cathy Hi Cathy I'm glad this brought back memories for you ... as it did for me too. I look forward to your return. Snow
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Feb 27 07, 08:24
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 3,822
Joined: 3-August 03
From: Florida
Member No.: 10
Real Name: Elizabeth
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori Kanter
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Hi Snow, My is this chocked full of memories and heart-tearing correlations. The title is strong. Bold, perhaps like that old armchair, and inviting as an Old Armchair should be. I just came across this and have printed it out for some more specific considerations. I'll return this afternoon or tonight (from work) with an actual critique on it. But wanted to say, I quite enjoyed this. Big Hugs, Liz QUOTE The Old Armchair
My mood mirrors the grey sky as I turn the front door key, relieved to shelter from the deluge.
All rooms look abandoned -- except Mam’s best room
It’s dated appearance has an understated grandeur. Gold velour drapes the window bay; the sill is swamped with keepsakes. A sheepskin rug, centre floor hugs my feet into its deep pile.
Guests would be ushered in here for cups of tea and cakes. I still hear their chatter warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind and visitors dwindled. I doubt she’ll have any callers at the nursing home.
I sift though drawers and shelves -- supervise the gathering of hospital equipment. Two armchairs now stand alone, the sofa has long resided into the garage, giving way for a downstairs bed.
Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, my mind somersaulting back through the years.
The room nudges me with reminiscences …
courting days, smooching on the sofa breathless with love ...
waiting with Dad for my wedding car -- nerves gnawing inside ... …
cushioned on this chair I nursed my baby boys, inhaled their honeyed fragrance ... …
over-feasted, on Boxing Days, we piled in here, drinking up the cosy atmosphere.
Stroking the familiar arms for a final time, the past wraps around me so tears tumble like the showers outside.
I sense a rush of warmth -- a celestial embrace.
‘It’s only a chair, love’
‘I know, Dad -- a chair full of memories’
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Feb 27 07, 19:38
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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Hi Liz -- look forward to your return. Snow
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Guest_Cathy_*
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Mar 3 07, 09:12
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Guest
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Hi Snow,
I made it back... finally! LOL As I said before, this is a beautiful poem and it brought back many memories for me. Thanks for that! *smiles*
I've left some comments and a few suggestions but of course it's up to you!
Thanks again for sharing... Cathy
The Old Armchair
My {mood}[emotions] mirror{s} the grey sky as I turn {the}[her] front door key, relieved to shelter from the deluge. 'Mood' indicates many things... could be just a bad day, anger or frustration at someone or something for instance. 'Emotions' immediately brings to mind your feelings. I felt that using 'her' instead of 'the' would personlize this line a bit. With 'the' I just felt that this could be any ol' door and using 'her' might hint at someone special.
All {rooms} look[s] abandoned -- except Mam’s best room[.] Knowing the N has used the key and is obviously inside I think 'rooms' in line one here is unnecessary and it avoids repetition of the word in the next line.
It’s dated appearance {has an}[is] understated grandeur. Gold velour drapes {the}[her] window bay[,]{;} the sill {is} swamped with keepsakes. A sheepskin rug, centre floor hugs my feet into its deep pile. I would use 'her' here for personalization too. As for the last line what about something like 'hugs my feet in warm comfort' (or some such)? You are describing Mam's best room and it seems to hold special memories for the N. Maybe... 'stirs fond remembrances'... such as moments like the N sitting on the floor while Mam read her a book, or playing with her doll while Mam sewed...
Guests {would be}[were] ushered in here for cups of tea and [tiny] cakes. For alliteration? I still hear their chatter warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind and visitors dwindled. I doubt she’ll have any callers at the nursing home.
I sift th[r]ough drawers and shelves -- supervise the gathering of hospital equipment. Two armchairs now stand alone, the sofa has long resided in{to} the garage, giving way for a downstairs bed. I think 'I sift through drawers and shelves' could be made a verse of its own. Maybe your N found a couple of items that brought to mind happy memories. Would 'removal' work better than 'gathering' in line 2? It gives a clearer image of what is going on and I think it sounds more 'final' somehow.
Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, my mind somersaulting back through the years. Good wording! It's like the memories are coming at you so fast that your mind is tripping over them.
The room nudges me with reminiscences …
courting days, smooching on the sofa breathless with love ...
waiting with Dad for my wedding car -- nerves gnawing inside ... …
cushioned on this chair I nursed my baby boys, inhaled their honeyed fragrance ... …
over-feasted, on Boxing Days, we piled in here, drinking up the cosy atmosphere.
Stroking the familiar arms for a final time, the past wraps around me {so}[while] tears tumble like the showers outside. 'Surrounds me' instead of 'wraps around me' OR maybe even 'I snuggle into the past... I snuggle into the moment'.
I sense a rush of warmth -- a celestial embrace.
‘It’s only a chair, love’
‘I know, Dad -- a chair full of memories’
Good ending... connecting with another lost loved one for comfort. A touching way to remind you that the one you are presently grieving will be there for you too!
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Mar 3 07, 16:18
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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Hi Cathy Thanks for coming back to this with some good suggestions for me to mull over. I wil be revising this soon. Snow
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Mar 3 07, 16:22
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 322
Joined: 20-August 06
From: Minneapolis, Minnesota
Member No.: 217
Real Name: Timothy Blighton
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:justdaniel
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Hi Snow, i have many duties to attend to today, but i kept forgetting to respond to this poem. i have not read your thread, so any duplications may be viewed as another vote for the same suggestion. i like this poem a lot and like the last poem i've critted of yours ("Would You Like to Dance?) this basically needs a strong haircut after giving birth (to keep the baby from pulling hard ) This poem has a lot of nice sonic elements woven into it. The haircut is designed to bring that out and keep the poem moving a little. May be i cut too much and you would want to slow the pace down to linger on some of the parts, that of course, is your final descision. Here we go..... QUOTE (Eisa @ Feb 21 07, 17:38 ) [snapback]91744[/snapback] My mood mirrorsis the grey sky as I turn the front door key...
relieved to shelter from the deluge.
All rooms look abandoned, ---no need for hyphenation here, just a comma. except Mam’s bestparlour room; ---(semi-colon) 'best' come across later. For now, Mam's room works as it was her place and contradicts her current reality. Parlour added, because that's what it reads to me and because it off-rhymes granduer in the now, next line.
It’s dated appearance
has an understated in grandeur, ---(comma instead) gold velour drapes the window bay, ---(comma instead) while the sill is swamped with keepsakes. ---'while' gives, to me, a stronger sense of scanning point-to-point, while also reinforces the 'L' sound of sill that ALMOST carries to 'pile' at the end of the stanza. A sheepskin rug, centre floor, ---(comma) hugs my feet into its deep pile.
Guests would be ushered in here for cups of tea and cakes; I can still hear their chatter ---for some reason, i want 'can' in here, may just be me. warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind; ---(semi-colon) for effect, jump from shocking statement about 'alien' back into reality: she's in the hospital.
and visitors dwindled. I doubt she’ll have any callers
atin the nursing home. ---'in' is a matter of preference.
I sift though drawers and shelves to supervise the gathering ---why the hyphenation? Why not just 'to' or 'and'? of hospital equipment.
Two armchairs now stand alone, ---consider moving this line to the bottom of this stanza, since that is where we pick up in the next stanza. The sofa is just segue, and the bed fills superfluous. A little note about the coach that used to be, since we are still in the parlour and working our focus in tighter to the armchairs. Add a little detail about the sofa to help me 'see' it, so that i may appreciate it being gone from the room. the sofa has long resided into the garage;, giving way for a downstairs bed. ---(semi-colon to link the thoughts). now, an arm chair stands alone.---addendum: consider one chair, the other becomes superfluous toward the story, as if this chair was the last thing taken out and then the reminiscining starts.
Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, ---hmmm, dappled velvet, lush material. i definitely 'see' that. my mind somersaulting back through the years.
The room nudges me with reminiscences … ---pick one, somersaulting which is a very strong action, or nudges which more subtle. Both lines are saying the same thing with two different types of impact on the N (and the poem)...maybe 'nudge' as many things you talk about in this poem are pleasant reveries and 'tumble' appears in a later stanza.
courting days, --- i get it nicely with breathless in love. smooching on thethat sofa ---consider mentioning some detail about the sofa being newer, firmer to corrolate with the feeling of love and home, etc. breathless with love ...
waiting with Dad for my wedding car -- nerves gnawing inside ... … ---why two sets of elipsis? Just one like the stanza above would work to show the jump in the timeline, imo.
cushioned onin this chair ---what do you think of 'in'? I nursed my baby boys, inhaled their honeyed fragrance ... … over-feasted ---i don't think you need a comma here on Boxing Days, we piled in here, drinking upsipping ---sipping is a slow movement (after feasted) and harkens to the actions the guests Mam would have had performed. Sipping also continues the 'p' sound, while adding another 's'-sound smoothing out the line, again imo. the cosy atmosphere.
Stroking the familiar arms for a final time, the past ---brought this up here, fell stronger to break noun and verb here. wraps around me, forming a plastic covering ---alluding to how some furniture is so wrapped to protect and preserve it.
soand tears, slick, tumble ---a matter of taste, i dislike 'so' starting most lines...i do have exceptions. like the showers outside.
I sense a rush of warmth -- a celestial embrace.
‘It’s only a chair, love’
‘I know, Dad -- a chair full of memories’ ---Where does this ending come from? Is Dad departed as well? This feels to left-field. Maybe you could end it at 'like the showers outside'? Just another thought. My mood is the grey sky, as I turn the front door key; all rooms look abandoned, except Mam’s parlour:
understated in grandeur, gold velour drapes the window bay, while the sill is swamped with keepsakes. A sheepskin rug, centre floor, hugs my feet into its deep pile.
Guests would be ushered in for cups of tea and cakes. I scan still hear their chatter warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind; I doubt she’ll have many callers in the nursing home.
I sift though drawers and shelves to supervise the gathering of hospital equipment. The old sofa has long resided into the garage; now an armchair stands alone.
Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, and I am nudged back to
smooching on the snow white sofa breathless with love ...
waiting with Dad for my wedding car -- nerves gnawing inside ...
cushioned in this chair I nursed my baby boys, inhaled their honeyed fragrance ...
over-feasted on Boxing Days, we piled in here, sipping the cosy atmosphere.
Stroking the familiar arms for a final time, the past wraps around me, forming a plastic cover, as tears, slick, trickle like the showers starting outside.Something like that. i tried not to take liberties with your work, but i couldn't help myself with the ending and pressed for time i just threw it in, sorry. Also: i threw in 'snow white', not knowing the specifics' i just wanted to offer a visual to corollate the condition of the couch with the idea of love that the scene was depicting. Hope this helps. Please feel free to ask if you need any clarification. I'm off...ttfn, ~tim
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Mar 3 07, 16:53
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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Hi Tim Nice to see you here. You are right -- this is in need of a haircut as it sounds a bit prosey. At times I write like this -- and then realise a good trim is in order! I haven't time to digest everything you have suggested at the moment, so I'll come back later. The ending is true (as is most of the poem) as I sat in the chair feeling very teary, and could hear my Dad's matter-of-fact voice say -- I'ts only a chair! (yes he passed away some time ago) So -- the ending is special in a way -- but then I realise that the N sometimes has to step back from what they'd like to say, to end up with a better poem. I'll think on this and see what response I get from others. I will certainly be getting my scissors out after the week end LOL!! Great to have your ideas. Snow
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Mar 3 07, 20:23
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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Hi Tim
Well I couldn't wait to get my scissors out and will post my trimmed version now.It might need another few tweaks tho'
Snow
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Mar 7 07, 10:27
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 3,822
Joined: 3-August 03
From: Florida
Member No.: 10
Real Name: Elizabeth
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori Kanter
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Hi Snow, I had a Fibro week and couldn't get back to this as I had liked to, but I will do what I can now! This is quite powerful in memory, and emotions that most readers will in some way relate and find themselves slipping into their own sense of meloncholy in light of our growing up and our parents growing on ward - ... Hope something I leave helps some, Big Wishes and hugs, Liz QUOTE The Old Arm Chair -- FIRST REVISION
The title is perfect!
Emotions merge with grey sky as I turn her front door key. Everywhere looks abandoned except Mam’s parlour:
The opening stanza is strong with powerful and meaningful images, such as L1, how the feelings of the narrator blend with the greyness of the day- I loved the sound partnership between emotions/merge. L3, felt weak to my ear/minds eye. Perhpas...
Emotions merge with grey sky as I turn her front door key, stepping in, swallowed by abandonment- except Mam's parlour:
or
as I turn her front door key, stilled-as each room appears abandoned except Mam's parlour:
understated in grandeur, gold velour drapes the window bay, while the sill is swamped with keepsakes. A sheepskin rug, centre floor hugs my feet into its deep pile.
Very active descriptions. In L2, I like how the word drapes is used as a verb and not a noun, so it gives off a dual effect 'Gold velour drapes'/ drapes the window bay, ' In L3, the word while doesn't seem to fit, as the line comes to a full end stop. I like the slight rhyme between parlour/velour/grandeur' smooth and unintrusive. Perhaps
understated in grandeur gold velour drapes the window bay, and the sill is still swamped with keepsakes. A sheepskin rug warms a centre floor, hugs my feet into its deep pile. (Instead of pile, perhaps plush)
Guests were ushered in here for cups of tea and cakes. I can still hear their chatter warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind; I know she’ll be forgotten in the nursing home.
I would have liked a stronger sense of memories coming to life here... some thoughts... In L1, I don't think you need to tack on 'here' at the end, it really doesn't add anything, I love your use of ushered and would like to bring that line to life bouncing off of the sounds attributed there...
A ghostly brush of guests once ushered in for tea and cakes, a whisper of chatter warmed by laughter, until things changed, she changed as if an alien scrambled her mind; I fear that she'll be forgotten, in the nursing home.
(I was contemplating trying to blend her forgetting her life, and the fear of the narrator that she will be forgotten just like how she forgets her own life. Just stirring thoughts that are bounced off of what you have)
I sift though drawers and shelves and supervise the removal of hospital equipment. The sofa has long resided in the garage, now her old armchair stands alone.
I would suggest elliminating the sofa and focus the intention on the old armchair. Where the sofa is doesn't change and weakens the image of the armchair alone... Typo in L2, 'through'
Perhaps ...
I sift through drawers, rearrange some shelves and supervise the removal hospital equipment; her old armchair stands alone.
Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, nudging back the years, to
Perhaps, Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, nudging back the years, to -
smooching on the brand new sofa breathless with love ... …
waiting with Dad for my wedding car nerves gnawing inside ...
cushioned on this chair I nursed my baby boys, inhaled their honeyed fragrance ...
I would move up 'I nursed to the end of the first line.
cushioned by this chair, I nursed my baby boys, inhaled their honeyed fragrance, lulled them to peaceful sleep ...
over-feasted on Boxing Days, we piled in here, sipping the cosy atmosphere.
Stroking the familiar arms for a final time, as the past wraps around me, I can almost hear her voice It’s only a chair, love
I would stanza break here after love. Perhaps...
A soft stroke against familiar arms, one final time, like an old friend comforts, as the past wraps around me, I can almost hear her voice, It's only a chair, love ...
My tears sprinkle like the showers outside. Yes, a chair full of memories.
[b] I would omit the first 2 lines, or perhaps...
Through a swell of tears, sprinkling down like the misty rain outside; I whisper, "Yes, a chair of our memories." Big Hugs, this brought surges of mysty tears... Liz
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Mar 8 07, 04:46
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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Hi Liz I thought you were having a bad patch as I hadn't seen you around. I'm glad you are able to come back to this and give your expert opinions. QUOTE (AMETHYST @ Mar 7 07, 15:27 ) [snapback]92333[/snapback] Hi Snow, I had a Fibro week and couldn't get back to this as I had liked to, but I will do what I can now! This is quite powerful in memory, and emotions that most readers will in some way relate and find themselves slipping into their own sense of meloncholy in light of our growing up and our parents growing on ward - ... Hope something I leave helps some, Big Wishes and hugs, Liz QUOTE The Old Arm Chair -- FIRST REVISION
The title is perfect!
Emotions merge with grey sky as I turn her front door key. Everywhere looks abandoned except Mam’s parlour:
The opening stanza is strong with powerful and meaningful images, such as L1, how the feelings of the narrator blend with the greyness of the day- I loved the sound partnership between emotions/merge. L3, felt weak to my ear/minds eye. Perhpas...
Emotions merge with grey sky as I turn her front door key, stepping in, swallowed by abandonment- except Mam's parlour:
or
as I turn her front door key, stilled-as each room appears abandoned except Mam's parlour:
Yes... that line is weak, I hadn't realized
understated in grandeur, gold velour drapes the window bay, while the sill is swamped with keepsakes. A sheepskin rug, centre floor hugs my feet into its deep pile.
Very active descriptions. In L2, I like how the word drapes is used as a verb and not a noun, so it gives off a dual effect 'Gold velour drapes'/ drapes the window bay, ' In L3, the word while doesn't seem to fit, as the line comes to a full end stop. I like the slight rhyme between parlour/velour/grandeur' smooth and unintrusive. Perhaps
understated in grandeur gold velour drapes the window bay, and the sill is still swamped with keepsakes. A sheepskin rug warms a centre floor, hugs my feet into its deep pile. (Instead of pile, perhaps plush)
Guests were ushered in here for cups of tea and cakes. I can still hear their chatter warmed by laughter, until the alien scrambled her mind; I know she’ll be forgotten in the nursing home.
I would have liked a stronger sense of memories coming to life here... some thoughts... In L1, I don't think you need to tack on 'here' at the end, it really doesn't add anything, I love your use of ushered and would like to bring that line to life bouncing off of the sounds attributed there...
A ghostly brush of guests once ushered in for tea and cakes, a whisper of chatter warmed by laughter, until things changed, she changed as if an alien scrambled her mind; I fear that she'll be forgotten, in the nursing home.
(I was contemplating trying to blend her forgetting her life, and the fear of the narrator that she will be forgotten just like how she forgets her own life. Just stirring thoughts that are bounced off of what you have)
I like your suggestion that visitors might now forget her just as she forgets her own life. I'll work on that.
I sift though drawers and shelves and supervise the removal of hospital equipment. The sofa has long resided in the garage, now her old armchair stands alone.
I would suggest elliminating the sofa and focus the intention on the old armchair. Where the sofa is doesn't change and weakens the image of the armchair alone... Typo in L2, 'through'
Perhaps ...
I sift through drawers, rearrange some shelves and supervise the removal hospital equipment; her old armchair stands alone.
I agree -- forget the sofa and the other chair and concentrate on THE arm chair!
Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, nudging back the years, to
Perhaps, Feeling jaded, I sit on the faded chair of dappled velvet, nudging back the years, to -
smooching on the brand new sofa breathless with love ... …
waiting with Dad for my wedding car nerves gnawing inside ...
cushioned on this chair I nursed my baby boys, inhaled their honeyed fragrance ...
I would move up 'I nursed to the end of the first line.
cushioned by this chair, I nursed my baby boys, inhaled their honeyed fragrance, lulled them to peaceful sleep ...
over-feasted on Boxing Days, we piled in here, sipping the cosy atmosphere.
Stroking the familiar arms for a final time, as the past wraps around me, I can almost hear her voice It’s only a chair, love
I would stanza break here after love. Perhaps...
A soft stroke against familiar arms, one final time, like an old friend comforts, as the past wraps around me, I can almost hear her voice, It's only a chair, love ...
My tears sprinkle like the showers outside. Yes, a chair full of memories.
[b] I would omit the first 2 lines, or perhaps...
Through a swell of tears, sprinkling down like the misty rain outside; I whisper, "Yes, a chair of our memories."
I am glad of your thoughts for the ending as I was not sure about it. The ending is important. Thanks for your suggestions. Big Hugs, this brought surges of mysty tears... Liz I'm sure you had a surge of your own memories, LizI pray your health will continue to improve. You hve given me plenty to chew over here. Thanks! Hugs Snow
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Mar 8 07, 11:15
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 322
Joined: 20-August 06
From: Minneapolis, Minnesota
Member No.: 217
Real Name: Timothy Blighton
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:justdaniel
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Hi Snow,
You may need to oil your clippers after that last cut---hahaha. This feels closer, yet Liz is also on target with her ideas and suggestions. i missed suggesting to omit the sofa altogether; that would read stronger. This version feels leaner and purrs better. Suggestions like explaining what everything is in S1/L3 that Liz notes is needed. i am going to ponder this later on tonight, after my second shift.
Here is a different idea for the opening; consider going one step farther by omitting emotions directly:
My grey emerges with the sky's cloudiness as I turn her front door key, into abandonment, emptiness... except for Mam's parlour:
understated in grandeur, gold velour drapes the window bay,
i apologize Snow; the above is a severe rewrite, but it illustrates my thoughts. Don't use it, use your words and your images, just try and take words like emotions out of this poem and offer something metaphorical instead, jmo. It's hard to use rain and sadness together, because it's been done so many times. i feel like you need to be extra careful, since it is your opening stanza.
i'll be back late tonight.
Cheers! ~tim/azurepoetry
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Mar 8 07, 14:22
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 1,621
Joined: 18-August 05
From: Johannesburg, South Africa
Member No.: 127
Real Name: Beverleigh Gail Annegarn
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Jox
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Hi Snow~
WOW this is a tear jerker. I have not been there yet with my parents! Been there with Eric's parents and it was a huge emotional strain and learning curve. HE will have to take over when it is my turn because not sure how I will deal with the situation or the memories...
I have not read all the crits and advice you have received but, you impressed me with the poem. And not sure I can offer any concrete suggestions.
Well done! If it is possible to congratulate somebody on such a successful sensitive issue!
PP
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