nevermind

nevermind

Lindsay -

is this where the poem was about looking back?  you were too quick to remove. I didn't have a chance to get here until tonight. put it back in, you impatient woman.

Yes, you called it Deepwaters...impatient
I woke in the night unable to sleep, the vicious disease of self-doubt had taken over my being, rendering me useless.
Every poisonous, defeating word was clogging my system, so even though I stated how I was back on the train, I almost immediately decided to abandon ship and drown in the murky waters of my deluded thoughts...I took a phantom for reality.
So, I will repost my poem and put down the poison.
Thank You.

mama’s big bed

i keep looking back to check and make sure I’m still

    alive

that my life is still there

like a new fresh mama
who keeps checking on her baby
to make sure it’s still breathing
then holding her hand to its heart
to make sure it’s still
   
    beating
 
lifting her newborn gently out of its crib
to lay in
mamas big bed
on mama’s chest
so they can both keep each other

    alive

mythological organs containing a hero’s journey
are behind this human skin
maybe nothing is behind this skin

the trees hung heavy with fat raindrops on the leaves
i didn’t think it was raining
until the wind came and the branches
shook
and water couldn’t clutch the slippery surface

    sliding
    off

and onto my forehead
into my hair

the wind came
and the curtains

    danced

and the fan in the window wasn’t on
but the wind turned the plastic petals

    love me
    love me not          

    it doesn’t matter        

ashtray
stacked books
crystal ball
kansas coffee cup
a flute
candles
duck tape
change in a broken bowl with chinese calligraphy scribbled across it

all these things
and yet
all nothing

No eyes no ears no nose no tongue no body no mind


so even in the midst of chaos
in the midst of tremendous company
one can still keep the solitary mind    

    inseparable    

my parents called me puss gut
sometimes
puss gut skin bag
i never questioned it
it was a term of endearment
and it made sense
especially when I would finish a whole box of swiss rolls
all to myself

    in one sitting      

reaching my
dirty finger nailed
chocolate and cream covered
hands
into the box
repeatedly
until it no longer held          
weight        

    empty      

the weight transferred to my stomach
as I nonchalantly pushed the tip of my blue jelly sandals
against the side porch floor
while on the swinging bench
hung
with chains that moaned    

    back    
    and    
    forth    

    back
    and    
    forth    

then clutch my belly
i did      
my puss gut    

Using my tongue
to push more chocolate
and cream
out of the cracks
and crevices
of my teeth
hoping for some saliva
watered
down
sweet
sugary
leftover
satisfaction      

    it’s just me here      

dancing with the gods in my mind
the archetypes fill my flesh
as I continue to turn my head
and check
to making sure that I’m still

    alive

I keep coming back to this one today and it has popped into my head at odd moments. That makes it effective although I have mixed feelings.
I love the beginning idea -I think there are maybe too many -ings (which is often a crit you see)and the repetition of 'just to make sure'.There is a little more to be made of the opening up to the second 'alive' where the poem shifts. I had an image of 'mama' holding the baby's hand to her (Mama's) heart as well (both keeping each other alive!) - maybe an initial mis-read that stuck with me. The big bed is still in my mind from my childhood and certainly resonates. I like the link of the bed with the porch swing -then and now
There might be too many 'ands' (4 in a row) -so i would maybe just tighten and edit, making sure the words were working hard enough themselves and not just getting by on the weight of those around them.
'Mama' might not quite fit either - as there is not much else colloquial in the narration.It almost calls for 'mother'?
The observations feel very real
We veer off through the N's childhood as if we have drifted off into semi-conscious slumber on the 'big bed' and it is delightful and has the pace of the porch swing to it, but from 'inseperable' to 'it's just me here' I sensed a different poem that was not moving the original along far enough.
Check to "making" sure I am still alive seems incorrect.
I think I'm rambling and although in crit we get caught up in corrections and improvement -the overall piece has great potential, and creates an impressive atmosphere

thank you thief for your thoughtful reply...
it certainly helped a lot
i wrote this in one of those keep your hand moving whatever comes in let it out on paper you have 15 minutes type style...
taking out those ands makes it sound much better - tighter
i'll play with the mama thing, but mother just seems too formal to me which perhaps would take away from the mood...?
i agree with the 'inseparable' to 'it's just me here' shift, which i intend on working with too, but want to keep the porch swing in there somehow cause, like you said, it adds to the atmosphere of the piece...

again, much appreciation

Lindsay-

There is a poem in here; I have no doubt. But I don’t think you have found it quite yet. There is too much fat in here, as they say. Look for what is essential and try to get rid of the rest. Here are some specific thoughts:

i keep looking back to check and make sure I’m still
for example, for “check and make sure” pick one verb and be done.

   alive

that my life is still there
why not “here”? just a thought.

like a new fresh mama for me, too many adjectives, neither of them really crisp and right
who keeps checking on her baby
to make sure it’s still breathing it’s ok to call the baby “it”?
then holding her hand to its heart do you need “then”? also, perhaps “holds” to stay in tune with “keeps”? I think it will create an immediacy.
to make sure it’s still
   
   beating
 
lifting her newborn gently out of its crib again, perhaps “lifts”?
to lay in
mamas big bed mama’s?
on mama’s chest
so they can both keep each other need “both”?

   alive

mythological organs containing a hero’s journey
are behind this human skin
maybe nothing is behind this skin
and then you suddenly throw me out of orbit with this satnaza. It is unclear what the poet wants to happen here

the trees hung heavy with fat raindrops on the leaves the tense changes, but I have no idea why.
i didn’t think it was raining
until the wind came and the branches
shook
and water couldn’t clutch the slippery surface
I like what this segment is about, and like the branches shaking and telling about the rain, but I think you need to restructure some. Tighten the language.

   sliding
   off

and onto my forehead
into my hair

the wind came
and the curtains

   danced

and the fan in the window wasn’t on
but the wind turned the plastic petals
again, I would restructure here, maybe something like paralleling above:
the wind came
and the curtains

   danced

the wind came
and the plastic petals of the fan

turned

Just throwing ideas out there.


   love me
   love me not          

   it doesn’t matter  not sure you need this, it also sounds a little preachy to me. I think the part about “nothings, etc” says what you want it to.  

ashtray
stacked books
crystal ball
kansas coffee cup
a flute
candles
duck tape
change in a broken bowl with chinese calligraphy scribbled across it

all these things
and yet
all nothing

No eyes no ears no nose no tongue no body no mind


so even in the midst of chaos I would get rid of “so”
in the midst of tremendous company
one can still keep the solitary mind     ”stay solitary”? “heep the solitary mind” sounds cumbersome to me. Maybe it is just me

   inseparable    

my parents called me puss gut
sometimes
puss gut skin bag
i never questioned it
it was a term of endearment
and it made sense
especially when I would finish a whole box of swiss rolls
all to myself

   in one sitting      

reaching my
dirty finger nailed
chocolate and cream covered
hands
into the box
repeatedly
until it no longer held          
weight        

   empty      
this two stanza drag on for me, I would try to shorten it
the weight transferred to my stomach
as I nonchalantly pushed the tip of my blue jelly sandals
against the side porch floor
while on the swinging bench
hung
with chains that moaned    

   back    
   and    
   forth    

   back
   and    
   forth    

then clutch my belly
i did      
my puss gut    

Using my tongue
to push more chocolate
and cream
out of the cracks
and crevices
of my teeth
hoping for some saliva
watered
down
sweet
sugary
leftover
satisfaction      

   it’s just me here      
for me, the story of the puss gut and her chocolate eating habits lack transition to and out of.
dancing with the gods in my mind
the archetypes fill my flesh
as I continue to turn my head
and check
to making sure that I’m still

   alive
here again, we go abstract but it is unclear what the poet wants the reader to feel – at least for me.

Just my two cents anyway. If it is not helpful to you, throw it out. Thanks for posting.

Lindsay, what you have written here is very impressive. It needs editing for sure but your descriptions are superb and really take the reader to that particular moment. I'd like to see how you develop this - it has huge potential.

Lindsay, I love your name. You have my daughter's name.  

Nothing new to add for crits. I think you should tighten this up.

EXCELLENT poem, superb imagery. I hate doing the line-by-line thing. You can tighten this up better than I could suggest, I'm sure. I think the puss gut imagery goes on a little too long. Love the chocolate rolls, and the saliva part.

Lots of beauty in here.

deepwaters...i'm glad to see that you returned to feed me with some food for thought.
i will take your suggestions into consideration and plan on revising this tonight.
thanks again for calling me out!

Wabi Sabi...thanks for your comment. i too look forward to seeing how it develops!

Rosa...how special that i share your daughter's name. i was originally going to be a sara - i'm so glad my parents decided otherwise! sara is a beautiful name though, sometimes i use it when i don't feel like using mine (among the myriad other random names i choose from).
yeah, i got carried away with the puss gut story...we'll see how it shapes up!

Like deepwaters stated..."too much fat" yah ol puss gut, chill out on the gluttony! Put down the swiss rolls and trim up!
will do, will do