2nd edit.

I’m gleaning in the orchards.
The birds have pecked
and hollowed out,
the apple of my sty.
The sky above is empty,
devoid of blessings, free
of doves. Branched and bare.

I’m garnering.
Green glass, frozen shards,
With blades sharp to pierce
and prick my tender parts.
A careless contract,
I’m torn apart. A wounded
hart, bare rooted. *

I’m gathering back, clinging
lichen, a sign, a healthy disposition.
Fieldfares flit and flirt. Beneath
the budding trees, a fruitful flow
that with the sun will rise
and grow. Bearing seeping sap.

* Wanted to keep the bare rooted. Is a deliberate follow through on orcharding. Is a term of preperation for new wood / trees in storage before it is ready for planting out. ( i know that it moves into unacessable symbolism perhaps....but it's only two words ! and i like the imagery of new growth / potential )

Quote:1st edit

I’m gleaning in the orchards.
A gain, un-stored. The birds - Do I need I need the comma after gain?
have pecked and hollowed out,
the apple of my sty.
The sky above is empty,
devoid of blessings, free
of doves. Branched and bare.

I’m garnering.
Green glass, frozen shards,
With blades sharp, pierce
and prick my tender parts.
A careless contract,
I’m torn apart. A wounded
heart, bare rooted.

I’m gathering back, clinging
lichen, a sign, a healthy disposition.
Fieldfares flit and flirt. Beneath
the trees flow fruitful thoughts,
that with the sun will rise
and grow. Bearing seeping sap.

Quote:original.
A frosty walk.

I’m gleaning in the orchards.
I’m cleaning up. The birds
have pecked and hollowed out,
the apple of my sty.
The sky above is empty,
devoid of blessings, free
of doves. Branched and bare.

I’m gleaning.
Green glass, frozen shards,
With blades sharp, pierce
and prick my tender parts.
A careless contract,
I’m torn apart. A wounded
heart, bare rooted.

I’m gathering back, the clinging
moss and lichen, a healthy
disposition. Fieldfares flit
and flirt. Beneath the trees
flow fruitful thoughts,
that with the sun will rise
and grow. Bearing seaping sap.

---

---

Warning authors note:-
This was written out of a desire to re-write the Not out poem but finding myself unable to process those thoughts I've done a new write in an attempt on the same subject which I hope is more accessable to the reader. I nearly titled this poem "A walk in the now whilst it is called today", but that sounded pretentious and unaccessable and it is frosty this morning and I was out gathering the last few delicious apples from the orchards... which is when i found this rumbling round in my head. so warts n all here it is. I would like to try the next stage of my writing experiance and work on this with your critique as opposed to just stashing the comments for another day. My thanks to TA for the excellent example set on your poem...I'm shamed and inspired by how you worked away on the edits.

who is TA?
L2, I’m cleaning up; more or less says the same thing and you use the gleaning word again later on, these are the two points i think you could address. apart from the nit in the first stanza i thought it was excellent. the play on words in the 4th line got a smile from me. in the 3rd stanza i'd move disposition up a line and Fieldfares flit down to start the next line. you may have to fiddle about to get it to work but i think it would help the enjambment. did you mean seeping? in the 2nd there's a pause for thought which adds tension. there's a good feel of nature and nurture in the poem and i liked it

thanks for the read.

(12-08-2012, 07:35 PM)cidermaid Wrote:  A frosty walk.

I’m gleaning in the orchards.
I’m cleaning up. The birds
have pecked and hollowed out,
the apple of my sty.
The sky above is empty,
devoid of blessings, free
of doves. Branched and bare.

I’m gleaning.
Green glass, frozen shards,
With blades sharp, pierce
and prick my tender parts.
A careless contract,
I’m torn apart. A wounded
heart, bare rooted.

I’m gathering back, the clinging
moss and lichen, a healthy
disposition. Fieldfares flit
and flirt. Beneath the trees
flow fruitful thoughts,
that with the sun will rise
and grow. Bearing seaping sap.

---

---

Warning authors note:-
This was written out of a desire to re-write the Not out poem but finding myself unable to process those thoughts I've done a new write in an attempt on the same subject which I hope is more accessable to the reader. I nearly titled this poem "A walk in the now whilst it is called today", but that sounded pretentious and unaccessable and it is frosty this morning and I was out gathering the last few delicious apples from the orchards... which is when i found this rumbling round in my head. so warts n all here it is. I would like to try the next stage of my writing experiance and work on this with your critique as opposed to just stashing the comments for another day. My thanks to TA for the excellent example set on your poem...I'm shamed and inspired by how you worked away on the edits.

[quote='billy' pid='108167' dateline='1355043657']
who is TA?

Twisted angel

the imagery you give the reader in this is awesome..the description of the hardened frozen grass is just spot on ..LOVE the 2nd stanza

"I’m gleaning in the orchards.
I’m cleaning up. The birds << have pecked and hollowed out, a sudden stop, unlike a word such as 'away' softer and trails..errm
the apple of my sty." away

the sadness in this mixed with beautiful imagery of the surroundings really captures a scene almost perfectly

Thanks for the feedback TA really want to work on this and the other recent post ...thanks to your example feeling inspired to crack on with trying to work with my poetry instead of hiding it away.
Partially pissed this arvo...son's 25th bday lets see what red wine does for my writing skills.

---

1st edit

I’m gleaning in the orchards.
A gain, un-stored. The birds - Do I need I need the comma after gain?
have pecked and hollowed out,
the apple of my sty.
The sky above is empty,
devoid of blessings, free
of doves. Branched and bare.

I’m garnering.
Green glass, frozen shards,
With blades sharp, pierce
and prick my tender parts.
A careless contract,
I’m torn apart. A wounded
heart, bare rooted.

I’m gathering back, clinging
lichen, a sign, a healthy disposition.
Fieldfares flit and flirt. Beneath
the trees flow fruitful thoughts,
that with the sun will rise
and grow. Bearing seeping sap.


Think i've screwed up the final stanza ...out of red wine send supplies urgently!

Hi cidermaid,

I like where you're going with this. Addressing this edit below:

(12-10-2012, 01:27 AM)cidermaid Wrote:  Thanks for the feedback TA really want to work on this and the other recent post ...thanks to your example feeling inspired to crack on with trying to work with my poetry instead of hiding it away.
Partially pissed this arvo...son's 25th bday lets see what red wine does for my writing skills.

---

1st edit

I’m gleaning in the orchards.
A gain, un-stored. The birds--since you asked I don't think you need the comma. That said, I'd consider cutting the phrase entirely and make the line "The birds have pecked" it's more evocative and I don't think you need the lead up
have pecked and hollowed out,--love the hollowed out and the line break.
the apple of my sty.
The sky above is empty,--love these last two lines. I also like how above plays with the sound of doves
devoid of blessings, free--great line break
of doves. Branched and bare.--love the phrasing and alliteration

I’m garnering.
Green glass, frozen shards,
With blades sharp, pierce--I keep wanting a to after sharp in place of the comma
and prick my tender parts.
A careless contract,
I’m torn apart. A wounded
heart, bare rooted.--the sonics are nice though I'm not sure i like a wounded heart, a bit cliche, and the repetition of bare.

I’m gathering back, clinging--good break. It gives clinging a secondary meaning.
lichen, a sign, a healthy disposition.
Fieldfares flit and flirt. Beneath
the trees flow fruitful thoughts,--this might be too many f sounds getting in the way of the wrap up. Read it out loud and see what you think.
that with the sun will rise
and grow. Bearing seeping sap.

Again, like the direction you're going.

Best,

Todd

Hi Todd thanks for this. I'm glad you mentioned the "to in the third line of the 2nd stanza, I knew it was off but couldn't put my finger on what. I like the suggestion here.

2nd edit.

I’m gleaning in the orchards.
The birds have pecked
and hollowed out,
the apple of my sty.
The sky above is empty,
devoid of blessings, free
of doves. Branched and bare.

I’m garnering.
Green glass, frozen shards,
With blades sharp to pierce
and prick my tender parts.
A careless contract,
I’m torn apart. A wounded
hart, bare rooted. *

I’m gathering back, clinging
lichen, a sign, a healthy disposition.
Fieldfares flit and flirt. Beneath
the budding trees, a fruitful flow
that with the sun will rise
and grow. Bearing seeping sap.

* Wanted to keep the bare rooted. Is a deliberate follow through on orcharding. Is a term of preperation for new wood / trees in storage before it is ready for planting out. ( i know that it moves into unacessable symbolism perhaps....but it's only two words ! and i like the imagery of new growth / potential )

Thanks for your help.

I love the change of heart to hart. Very nice.

i got to the edit a little late, nice progression from original to the last edit. i think bare rooted read okay even if we don't know why it has to be that way. it's an image that works. all in all it really shines. hart is an excellent substitute for heart in this instance. the apple of my sty is a hard working line that does it's job on more than one level. great edits.

Thanks Billy, you did the early leg work on this one for me (Not least, picking up on the 2nd gleaning - had changed it once, so did not notice the error when copied it across. Prob would have left it in and kept reading what i thought was there if you had not mentioned this). I'm really pleased with how it is working (for) now.

My thanks to all of you who have not only worked on this poem but also given your time and encouragement in other places. Think this is one of the best sites I’ve come across and this is due to the dedication and hard work that all the team put in. Pat on the back to all of you, I don't know where you find the time or the stamina to keep all of the reads and comments flowing like you do. This is not smoke, I'm genuinely grateful.

xx

I’m gleaning in the orchards.
The birds have pecked
and hollowed out,
the apple of my sty.
The sky above is empty,
devoid of blessings, free
of doves. Branched and bare.

I’m garnering.
Green glass, frozen shards,
With blades sharp to pierce
and prick my tender parts.
A careless contract,
I’m torn apart. A wounded
hart, bare rooted.

I’m gathering back, clinging
lichen, a sign, a healthy disposition.
Fieldfares flit and flirt. Beneath
the budding trees, a fruitful flow
that with the sun will rise
and grow. Bearing seeping sap.

....................................

After the "hollowed out" you don't need a comma, unless you want a more pronounced pause there. "The birds have pecked and hollowed out the apple of my sty" wouldn't have a comma. The last stanza seems more compressed in a complicated way than the others. You might want to keep it, or you can run through it a few more times. As you said you were really into the editing of this one, the last part is the only part that might actually need any.

Hi Rowens,
Had thought about parking this one for a week...but now you mentioned it I think you are right about the comma in the first stanza. Originally i had intended to have a longer pause there but with the other edits this is not now the case. Thanks for this suggestion.
Also have some accord with what you are saying about the last stanza, but i'm at a wall as to what to do with it.
My only thought was to remove "a sign" as below...but i'm not convinced that this is working either, so i'll sit on it for now I think.
Thanks for the feedback.

I’m gleaning in the orchards.
The birds have pecked
and hollowed out
the apple of my sty.
The sky above is empty,
devoid of blessings, free
of doves. Branched and bare.

I’m garnering.
Green glass, frozen shards,
With blades sharp to pierce
and prick my tender parts.
A careless contract,
I’m torn apart. A wounded
hart, bare rooted.

I’m gathering back, clinging
lichen, a healthy disposition.
Fieldfares flit and flirt. Beneath
the budding trees, a fruitful flow
that with the sun will rise
and grow. Bearing seeping sap.

....................................

(12-08-2012, 07:35 PM)cidermaid Wrote:  2nd edit.

I’m gleaning in the orchards.
The birds have pecked
and hollowed out, Is this comma needed?
the apple of my sty. A funny and clever perversion of the old phrase.
The sky above is empty,
devoid of blessings, free
of doves. Branched and bare. These last three lines feel antireligious, but not really in a mean or attacking way.

I’m garnering.
Green glass, frozen shards,
With blades sharp to pierce
and prick my tender parts. This is another funny line. The half rhyme of "frozen shards" and "tender parts" makes it especially so.
A careless contract,
I’m torn apart. A wounded
hart, bare rooted. *

I’m gathering back, clinging
lichen, a sign, a healthy disposition.
Fieldfares flit and flirt. Beneath
the budding trees, a fruitful flow
that with the sun will rise
and grow. Bearing seeping sap. I'm not sure the last sentence is needed, but otherwise this is a glorious closing verse.

This is a light, funny and moving poem, like Pam Ayres crossed with John Keats. I like it very much. It's sweetly atmospheric and makes me think of lazy summer afternoons, tinged with some inner beauty which doesn't quite surface in the mind. All critique is JMHO of course. Thanks for the read.

Hi Heslopian,

I think you have found me out...most of my poetry has some aspect of my spirituality hidden in it somewhere. ( I was trying to sneak it in whilst keeping it off the radar of the symbolism police) This was the re-think on some of the "Not out" sentiments and an update on progress so to speak...a sort of moving on piece. So in this respect your comments are very close to the mark in terms of my sentiments and intent. (Not anti-God but def anti- religious and distinctly pissed at life...but living in an amazing place full of beauty, so begining to lift my eyes to the horizon again)....although John keats in Pam Ayres drag is a truly frightening prospect to try and live up to.


Thanks for the comments.

(tender parts? Did you mean funny good or funny not really working for you?)

Funny good. It felt witty and sharp.