The Old Armchair (Tweaked 19/04/07), Wizard Award ~ memories Options

[Eisa]

Hi Tim -- nice to see you back!

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.

Yes Tim -- I feel quite light headed through all that trimming. LOL!! --- though I think it'll take a few more revisions to get this where I want it, so I'll need all the help I can get.

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.

Never apologise to me for a severe rewrite -- I like it that way! I can always ignore if I don't like. I have been playing around with ideas for the 1st stanza -- as you say it is the opening to the poem, so should be good. I think omitting emotions might be a good move.

i'll be back late tonight.

I'll see you later then

Snow

Cheers!
~tim/azurepoetry

[Eisa]

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

Thanks Bev

This is one I've had inside since my mother died and has only just come into words.

I hope you have many years still with your parents. I don't know how I'd have coped if it wasn't for my hubby --especially when Mum died 4 days before Xmas (2005) I think there may be more poems coming out soon.

Thanks for your kind comments.

Snow

[Eisa]

Second revision coming up!

Snow

[Peterpan]

Hello Snow~

My comments in BOLD

This is such a moving poem. I love it! You have written with such real sensitivity and we all can relate to it.

Thank you for sharing it.

PP

The Old Arm Chair (second revision)

Merging with the mizzleWhat about - merging from the mizzle? Just a thought?
I turn her front door key
shivering at the emptiness,
then step in Mam’s parlour:

understated in grandeur,
gold velour drapes the window bay;
the sill is still swamped with keepsakes.
Oil paintings decorate walls
exhibiting her latent talent.
A sheepskin rug, centre floor,
hugs my feet into its plush luxury. This is a lovely line.

A ghostly brush of guests
once ushered in, for tea and cakes,
warms me with their murmurs
tinged by laughter; but visitors
dwindled with her memory Clever line
as she rummaged for life’s reality.
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 old armchair stands alone. You could leave old out?

Jaded, 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 honeyed fragrance,Lovely
lulling them to sleep …

over-feasted on Boxing Days,
we piled in here, sipping
the comfy atmosphere.So true of happy families!

For a final time I stroke
the cherished arms, while
swathed in auld langsyne;

I sense her familiar aura.…
It’s only a chair, love.
My tears splatter with
a sudden cloud burst outside;These my best two lines!
Yes, I whisper …
a chair padded with memories.And this line is excellent

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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, love
My 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’

[Eisa]

Thanks for sharing your thoughts on this Bev.

I think I could miss 'old' out -- after all it's in the title.

Snow

[JaxMyth]

Thank you for the gift of 'mizzle' I have not come across it before, some comments in line.
[delete] (add) {comment}

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:

understated in grandeur,{ I query the meaning and the need for this line}
gold velour drapes the window bay;
the sill [is] still swamped with keepsakes.
Oil paintings decorate walls
exhibiting her [latent] talent. {If it is latent it is neither evident nor active as it would need to be for the paintings to be able to be on the wall.}
A sheepskin rug, centre floor,
hugs my feet into its [plush] luxury. {Seems redundant}

A ghostly brush of guests
once ushered in, for tea and cakes, {Guests now ghosts are ushered in...}
warms me with their murmurs
tinged by laughter; but visitors
dwindled with her memory {How beautifully drawn.}
[as she rummaged for life’s reality.] {Implied}
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; {there is a nice parallel here that is not explored.}

her armchair stands alone.

Jaded, I sit on faded dappled velvet, {Overloaded, also 'jaded' seems to be mere ornamentation as there is no real precedent for the feeling.}
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 honeyed fragrance, {Perhaps 'baby smell', 'honeyed fragrance' seems a poetic abstraction.}
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 langsyne; {Typo: 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 conceit is beautiful but I feel that the execution is not there yet.

If of use, use if not toss.

Thank you and regards,

Jax

[Eisa]

Hi Jax -- it's good to have your thoughts on this one

Thank you for the gift of 'mizzle' I have not come across it before, some comments in line.

i'm glad you enjoyed 'mizzle' -- it is a word I've loved ever since I used it a few years ago.

[delete] (add) {comment}

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:

understated in grandeur,{ I query the meaning and the need for this line}

Mmm... this is a remnant of two lines I had originally and I now see is not clear without the other line. As you say -- not needed anyway.

gold velour drapes the window bay;
the sill [is] still swamped with keepsakes.
Oil paintings decorate walls
exhibiting her [latent] talent. {If it is latent it is neither evident nor active as it would need to be for the paintings to be able to be on the wall.}

I thought I'd used that in the wrong context --thanks!

A sheepskin rug, centre floor,
hugs my feet into its [plush] luxury. {Seems redundant}
true!

A ghostly brush of guests
once ushered in, for tea and cakes, {Guests now ghosts are ushered in...}
I am not refering to the guests as ghosts (they are still alive) but the memories of them giving a ghostly fee. I'll rethink to make clearer.
warms me with their murmurs
tinged by laughter; but visitors
dwindled with her memory {How beautifully drawn.}
[as she rummaged for life’s reality.] {Implied} true
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; {there is a nice parallel here that is not explored.}
something I'd not thought about

her armchair stands alone.

Jaded, I sit on faded dappled velvet, {Overloaded, also 'jaded' seems to be mere ornamentation as there is no real precedent for the feeling.}
I used for assonance -- but can see it's unnecessary
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 honeyed fragrance, {Perhaps 'baby smell', 'honeyed fragrance' seems a poetic abstraction.}
yes -- I've been wondering about 'honeyed' ... though I think i'd prefer scent to smell LOL!
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 langsyne; {Typo: auld lang syne}

My dictionaries tell me 'langsyne' should not be seperated

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 conceit is beautiful but I feel that the execution is not there yet.

If of use, use if not toss.

Thank you so much for giving me something else to chew on here. I usually write many revisions, until I get it right. I'll change a few thing now and ponder on the others.

Snow

Thank you and regards,

Jax

[Peterpan]

Snow~

Is mizzle miserable drizzle? heee hee that is why I live here in SA! or in Johannesburg. The best weather in the world. Come and visit!

Still moved by your poem.

PP

[JaxMyth]

I would really query that dictionary Snow. This is from a site on Burns.

"Auld Lang Syne
Burns' name is not affixed to this world-famous song, and yet there can be no doubt it is chiefly his own. He admitted to Johnson that the two verses beginning respectively, "We tae hae ran about the braes," and "We twa hae paidl'd in the burn," are his own, although in sending the song to Mrs. Dunlop in December, 1788, and also is writing about it to Thomson, in September, 1793, he speaks of it as ancient. "Light be the turf," he says, "on the breast of the heaven-inspired poet who composed this glorious fragment! There is more of the fire of native genius in it than half-a-dozen of modern English Bacchanalians." "Apropos, is not the Scotch phrase Auld Lang syne exceedingly expressive? This old song and tune has often thrilled through my soul." To Thomson he writes thus:- "The air is but mediocre; but the song of itself - the song of the olden times, and which has never been in print, nor even in manuscript, until I took it down from an old man's singing - is enough to recommend any air."

It is right to state that the popular air of Auld Lang Syne is quite different from that referred to by the poet. We are indebted to George Thomson for selecting the fine old air of Can ye labour lea, which, by universal consent, has now become identified with the present song. We may also notice that the present arrangement of the versus, being that of the poet's own MS., seems preferable to that given by Curtis, who makes the second verse the very last in the song, while it has a manifest reference to the earlier stages of the interview between the supposed singers.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?

Chorus

For auld lang syne, my jo,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stoup,
And surely I'll be mine;
And we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld, etc.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld, etc.

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd.
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld, etc.

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak' a right gud-wellie waught,
For auld lang syne.
For auld, etc.

A translation from the Scots Independent

auld;old lang;long syne;since

auld lang syne ; days of long ago

pint stowp ; tankard

pou'd ; pulled

gowans ; daisies

mony ; many

fitt ; foot

paidl'd ; waded

dine; dinner-time

braid ; broad

fiere ; friend

willie-waught ; draught"

Regards,

Jax

[Eisa]

Snow~

Is mizzle miserable drizzle? heee hee that is why I live here in SA! or in Johannesburg. The best weather in the world. Come and visit!

Still moved by your poem.

PP

LOL! -- yea, you could say that -- its somewhere between mist and drizzle. I don't like it! I'd love to visit -- perhaps I'll start saving!

Snow

[Eisa]

Hi Jax

Thanks for the info. I did originally write auld lang syne seperately and my computer rejected it written this way but accepted it as one word -- so I did a quick check and the dictionary I tried agreed with this. However, I've looked into it since your concerns and although some places keep langsyne as one word most of them use it as two words. (makes more sense anyway!) My computer has been known to say things are wrong when they're right -- grrrr!

Thanks for the help -- I've changed it in my poem.

Snow

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Snow, I've come late to this but I am glad I had the chance to read it. I read your original and the many reviews; I miss the alien inside, which is SUCH a good line, but the last review is better in some ways. Congratulations. It is right on the button, and lovely though so sad.

K

ps I will come back later, it is late and I am tired.

[Eisa]

Snow, I've come late to this but I am glad I had the chance to read it. I read your original and the many reviews; I miss the alien inside, which is SUCH a good line, but the last review is better in some ways. Congratulations. It is right on the button, and lovely though so sad.

K

ps I will come back later, it is late and I am tired.

Hi Kathy

yes -- I miss that alien line too, it is quite original really (I think) The trouble with trimming back is that you often lose something good. I'll go and put it back in now and come back to the rest another day.

I'm tired tonight (this morning actually). I see I've had some replies in Herme's, but they'll have to wait until tomorrow now, or I'll be sleeping on the keys! LOL!

See you Kathy

Snow

[JaxMyth]

Very nice Snow.

Regards,

Jax

[Eisa]

Very nice Snow.

Regards,

Jax

Thank you so much, Jax, for coming back to say so!

Snow

[Eisa]

Third Revision

Snow

[Cleo_Serapis]

Congrats Snow on your wizard award winning tile!

Well done!

~Cleo

[Guest_Kathy_*]

Ah, I forgot to come back, and look what I have missed!





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.


And now you have a Wizard Award! Congratulations!

.

[Eisa]

Congrats Snow on your wizard award winning tile!

Well done!

~Cleo

Thank you Lori

Snow

[Eisa]

Dear Kathy

Thank you so much for your good wishes.

Snow