(Poem not yet titled)
No words to write nor thoughts to sing.
My mind is numbed by the pillows
Of soft pine beneath my unwithered boots.
I bought them six years ago-
Hoped for an excuse to buy a new pair by now, but no.
Needles laying at the base of what was once
Their livelihood. Are they paying homage,
Or perhaps begging at the roots
For one more shot at being?
Simply being, for I don’t really know
What their purpose is in the first place.
Soft pine beneath my unwithered boots…
Time to time, roots interrupt the sensation of floatation,
and the inconsistency makes me sad.
But only for a moment.
Scuffing the sap from the roots of the spruce
Sends scent into the air.
And should my memory go blind,
Nostalgia's nose will let it linger forever-
And for that, I am grateful.
Hey JmLA,
I like the sentiment in this poem. However, I feel like if your main image here is going to be boots, that you should describe them more. For example, what colour are they? You repeat the word "unwithered", but how does that relate back to their appearance? Are they shiny? Smooth? I'll give some more details below:
(12-21-2017, 11:18 AM)JmLA Wrote: [ -> ](Poem not yet titled)
No words to write nor thoughts to sing. -I feel like the rest of the poem contradicts this first line, so I would suggest cutting it.
My mind is numbed by the pillows
Of soft pine beneath my unwithered boots.-The second and third line here are strong enough to start the poem on. Connecting back to what I said above, after these two lines would be a good place to describe the boots' appearance.
I bought them six years ago-
Hoped for an excuse to buy a new pair by now, but no. -I would suggest exploring this idea more. Why does the reader want to get rid of these boots?
Needles laying at the base of what was once
Their livelihood. Are they paying homage, -I'm confused on how the boots relate to the needles' livelihoods, but I could be missing something.
Or perhaps begging at the roots
For one more shot at being?
Simply being, for I don’t really know
What their purpose is in the first place. -I like this stanza because it could relate to the needles and the boots.
Soft pine beneath my unwithered boots…
Time to time, roots interrupt the sensation of floatation, -Check the spelling of "floatation".
and the inconsistency makes me sad.
But only for a moment. -Why only a moment? I think you should explore this feeling more.
Scuffing the sap from the roots of the spruce
Sends scent into the air.
And should my memory go blind,
Nostalgia's nose will let it linger forever-
And for that, I am grateful. -I like the imagery in this stanza. However, I feel like it overshadows the importance of the boots as an image. Just something to think about.
I think you have a decent first draft here, and I look forward to seeing where you take this from here.
Cheers,
Richard
Hey JmLA, pretty good first draft. Some thoughts below.
(12-21-2017, 11:18 AM)JmLA Wrote: [ -> ](Poem not yet titled)
No words to write nor thoughts to sing. Maybe omit this first line and jump right into it.
My mind is numbed by the pillows No "the" needed.
Of soft pine beneath my unwithered boots.
I bought them six years ago- Two dashes for an em dash
Hoped for an excuse to buy a new pair by now, but no. I don't see the need for this stanza.
Needles laying at the base of what was once
Their livelihood. Are they paying homage,
Or perhaps begging at the roots
For one more shot at being? I like this stanza
Simply being, for I don’t really know
What their purpose is in the first place. I don't feel like this stanza is needed. You do your job at showing your uncertainty when you questioned the purpose of the pine needles in the previous stanza. This meanders, in my opinion.
Soft pine beneath my unwithered boots…
Time to time, roots interrupt the sensation of floatation,
and the inconsistency makes me sad. Is this a meta reference to the capitalization of words you begin the lines with in the poem?
But only for a moment. I feel like it is at this point.
Scuffing the sap from the roots of the spruce Too many "the's"
Sends scent into the air. This phrasing sounds awkward to my ears. I think it's the alliteration maybe sounding forced. Maybe find a synonym for either "send" or "scent"
And should my memory go blind,
Nostalgia's nose will let it linger forever-
And for that, I am grateful.
To be honest, I didn't even notice the capitalization of your lines until I got further into the poem, which is a good thing. I gotta question why you went for this style though. Overall, it was a good read, thank you and good luck with the revisions.
First off, this is a beautiful piece. It's not excessively wordy and it's not overwhelming with effort, rather it reads like pure, coherent, thought provoking meditation. There's something about it that's simultaneously melancholy and whimsical.
The description of "unwithered" boots struck me as odd. Perhaps "unweathered"?
"Needles laying at the base of what was once
Their livelihood. Are they paying homage,
Or perhaps begging at the roots
For one more shot at being?"
This stanza alone hit me hard. It's so beautifully honest in it's lamentation.
Thanks so much for sharing.