(12-20-2015, 09:09 AM)ellajam Wrote:  

(12-20-2015, 08:51 AM)Jacob Wrote:  First version was before I joined but reading both now I'd say that the edit is a major step forward, you managed to address most of the major issues without changing the core of the poem.
Title is miles better and I really like the standalone first line.
I don't know if this is some sort of heresy around here, but I wonder if this wouldn't work better as a composite prose poem piece, without the line divisions in the first (second?) stanza. As it is, the poem seems inconsistent, the first and second stanzas don't seem to match, which isn't necessarily a problem, but the effect might work better if you leaned into it more.
There's also a couple clumsy phrases, most of which other people have pointed out, "religious tomes," "photos you caught that caught you." The last line of the first stanza is probably the one place where I liked the original better, it's not perfect but it seems less awkward. If it was me I'd go for "photos of you and us and them."
I can't quite decide how I feel about the closing two lines. I really like the phrase "arms full of empty" but I think it could maybe be tweaked a little. I first read it as "free to hold you today," until I noticed I was inserting a word to fit the context. I don't have any concrete advice here, just that I'd consider playing around with the phrasing to see if you could find something that flows a little better.

Thanks so much for reading and taking the time to comment, Jacob. I'm particularly interested in your prose poetry comment. I know nothing about it and most of the bits I've read I've been unimpressed with. I've read prose that was chock full of poetry, but I haven't yet seen the point of writing a sound paragraph or two and calling having it satand alone. This one may not have the makings of decent poem, I haven't given up yet, but if i'm unable to do that I'll probably just file it under weak.

If you know of any prose poetry you think is worthwhile I'd surely read it.

Again, your time and arrows to weak points are much appreciated.

I have tried and failed to get into prose poetry, as in classic prose poetry, as in the people famous for writing prose poetry. Can't recall the names of the people I was reading, unfortunately. I remember finding some of it amazing but most kind of blah. Of course that's typically what happens when I pick up a book of poetry too...
Integrating prose into my own poetry is something I've been experimenting with, largely out of my many-years-old confusion about the point of line breaks that don't indicate pauses in speech. It's like, if the only reason we are dividing lines is to make it look like a poem, that seems kind of dumb. I occasionally wonder if this means that free verse is kind of dumb. Which would be unfortuante because its the only kind of poetry I know how to write.

(12-20-2015, 09:30 AM)Jacob Wrote:  

(12-20-2015, 09:09 AM)ellajam Wrote:  

(12-20-2015, 08:51 AM)Jacob Wrote:  First version was before I joined but reading both now I'd say that the edit is a major step forward, you managed to address most of the major issues without changing the core of the poem.
Title is miles better and I really like the standalone first line.
I don't know if this is some sort of heresy around here, but I wonder if this wouldn't work better as a composite prose poem piece, without the line divisions in the first (second?) stanza. As it is, the poem seems inconsistent, the first and second stanzas don't seem to match, which isn't necessarily a problem, but the effect might work better if you leaned into it more.
There's also a couple clumsy phrases, most of which other people have pointed out, "religious tomes," "photos you caught that caught you." The last line of the first stanza is probably the one place where I liked the original better, it's not perfect but it seems less awkward. If it was me I'd go for "photos of you and us and them."
I can't quite decide how I feel about the closing two lines. I really like the phrase "arms full of empty" but I think it could maybe be tweaked a little. I first read it as "free to hold you today," until I noticed I was inserting a word to fit the context. I don't have any concrete advice here, just that I'd consider playing around with the phrasing to see if you could find something that flows a little better.

Thanks so much for reading and taking the time to comment, Jacob. I'm particularly interested in your prose poetry comment. I know nothing about it and most of the bits I've read I've been unimpressed with. I've read prose that was chock full of poetry, but I haven't yet seen the point of writing a sound paragraph or two and calling having it satand alone. This one may not have the makings of decent poem, I haven't given up yet, but if i'm unable to do that I'll probably just file it under weak.

If you know of any prose poetry you think is worthwhile I'd surely read it.

Again, your time and arrows to weak points are much appreciated.

I have tried and failed to get into prose poetry, as in classic prose poetry, as in the people famous for writing prose poetry. Can't recall the names of the people I was reading, unfortunately. I remember finding some of it amazing but most kind of blah. Of course that's typically what happens when I pick up a book of poetry too...
Integrating prose into my own poetry is something I've been experimenting with, largely out of my many-years-old confusion about the point of line breaks that don't indicate pauses in speech. It's like, if the only reason we are dividing lines is to make it look like a poem, that seems kind of dumb. I occasionally wonder if this means that free verse is kind of dumb. Which would be unfortuante because its the only kind of poetry I know how to write.

The good news is that forms are fun to learn.

even though flawed, the original was .... original, beautiful too.
the last stanza (strophe? i read your Colin Ward's tips) in particular.

Quote:Jacob wrote:
I remember finding some of it amazing but most kind of blah. Of course that's typically what happens when I pick up a book of poetry too...

 Me too. I figure in my case it may be because I pick up any random poetry I come across instead of making the effort to find specific poets.
The Poems We Love thread has some great reading, and ray has just posted some great selections by Len Krisak in a spoiler in the Do I Make You Uncomfortable? thread.
I'd probably be better off trolling Amaazon than thrift stores and library sales.

(12-20-2015, 11:34 AM)ronsaik Wrote:  even though flawed, the original was .... original, beautiful too.
the last stanza (strophe? i read your Colin Ward's tips) in particular.

Thanks ron. Is it your opinion that the edit's screwed and I should start from the original again, or keep working from the edit? I have a tendency to edit into oblivion, sometimes moving forward and sometimes back.

ella - a brief summary of what I like in this version (the first 4 lines), and what in the old.
i haven't seen too many examples on the pen of where the edited version was an improvement on the original. the crits were all valid, but i think it takes time to edit, to get into the mood that inspired the original, and it can't be rushed. too often we feel pressured, self included, to publish a revision out of a sense of obligation.

EDIT: at the same time, my feedback is too touchy feely to be reliable. so please take what I say with a horse-killing dose of scepticism.

(11-28-2015, 01:04 AM)ellajam Wrote:  The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #1)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvaged scraps sorted
and shelved alongside Twain, Cayce, Eliot; --- this is an improvement on the original. the line endings don't look arbitrary now
illegible religious tomes and old issues
of Archeology, New Yorker and Science- nice. better than the original.
each with one article you couldn't trash. -- the 'weekly deluge' of the original was a nice phrase, anticipating the ocean of S2. Now it's too matter of fact, too prosaic.
Closets stacked with antique picnic baskets - 'antique picnic baskets' is difficult to picture. just picnic baskets, as in the original, would have been enough. I'm sure there may be some differences between picnic baskets made 60 years ago (the definition of 'antique') and now, but we don't speak of 'antique frying pans' or 'antique lint brush' either
and almost working vacuum cleaners, - 'fixable' was original. 'almost' anything is such a cliche that it's best avoided.
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
stacks of photos you caught and that caught you.- this line comes across as trying too hard to say something clever. the original 'of us, you, in them' was short and sweet.

When the ocean took it all you came, - I liked the 'grinning' of the original, because it made the line longer. Because the mood changes in this strophe (not stanza, thanks Colin Ward), this line needs to be slightly long.
I heard your grinning voice: - 'grinning voice' is a weak description
"It's just stuff." - 'they're just things' sounded better
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today. - beautiful ending, unchanged from the original.


The Gift of Loss (original)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of saving
sorted, labeled, ready for reuse.
Bookshelves crammed:
Twain, Cayce, Eliot,
religious tomes in languages
the rest of us couldn't read;
favorite issues from the weekly deluge
of magazines on every subject.
Closets stacked with picnic baskets
and fixable vacuum cleaners,
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
photos of you, us, them.

When the ocean took it all you came, grinning,
reminding me "They're just things."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

Sorry, I didn't answer your question. I'd say stick with the edit in the first 4 lines and then go back to the original if you like.

Thanks so much, Ron, I didn't mean to force you into a critique but it's really useful.

I like to rush into an edit based on crit when it's fresh in my mind. Although I often muck it up, I can always go back and sometimes do, but there are a few that I've been able to make into something special this way so I'll continue. Thanks for the ammo.

Hi ella, I'm just going to comment on the revision as I do think it's an improvement on the original -- although both are high quality and given the right market, would make fine submissions if you were up for publishing.  

(11-28-2015, 01:04 AM)ellajam Wrote:  The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #1)  -- this is an excellent title, with very Zen overtones

You left without your things. -- a powerful opening statement that gets straight to the point.  There are strong feelings of loss.

Eighty years of salvaged scraps sorted -- I wonder if salvage would work on its own, rather than salvaged scraps? You run the risk of overusing alliteration, and poetry is partly about paring back if possible.
and shelved alongside Twain, Cayce, Eliot;
illegible religious tomes and old issues -- why are they illegible?  Is the print faded, are the pages rotten?  Or is it just that the language is esoteric?  I don't feel that illegible is the most evocative word you could use here.  Maybe esoteric?  But then you'd probably want to remove religious.
of Archeology, New Yorker and Science
each with one article you couldn't trash. -- I don't consider that this line adds anything.  It's obvious why they were kept. 
Closets stacked with antique picnic baskets -- maybe "worn out", "frayed" or something similar instead of "antique".  Unless they really were antique and collectible.  That would be a bit weird but certainly not the strangest collection I've ever heard of... still, this sounds like a hoarder rather than a collector
and almost working vacuum cleaners, -- a hyphen for almost-working
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
stacks of photos you caught and that caught you. -- love these lines.  

When the ocean took it all you came, -- came where?  Came to us?  Came to town?  Came to claim your title from an evil baron?
I heard your grinning voice: -- grinning voice is a step too absurd for me.  Voices don't grin.  Perhaps cheery or some such.   
"It's just stuff."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today. -- perfect close, linking back to the title.  

I have not read either the poems or the critiques enough times to really comment but I would like to say I prefer "unreadable " to illegible. I can expound if you would like or you can just dismiss it until I apply enough work to the whole.

(12-21-2015, 05:12 AM)Leanne Wrote:  Hi ella, I'm just going to comment on the revision as I do think it's an improvement on the original -- although both are high quality and given the right market, would make fine submissions if you were up for publishing.  

(11-28-2015, 01:04 AM)ellajam Wrote:  The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #1)  -- this is an excellent title, with very Zen overtones

You left without your things. -- a powerful opening statement that gets straight to the point.  There are strong feelings of loss.

Eighty years of salvaged scraps sorted -- I wonder if salvage would work on its own, rather than salvaged scraps? You run the risk of overusing alliteration, and poetry is partly about paring back if possible.
and shelved alongside Twain, Cayce, Eliot;
illegible religious tomes and old issues -- why are they illegible?  Is the print faded, are the pages rotten?  Or is it just that the language is esoteric?  I don't feel that illegible is the most evocative word you could use here.  Maybe esoteric?  But then you'd probably want to remove religious.
of Archeology, New Yorker and Science
each with one article you couldn't trash. -- I don't consider that this line adds anything.  It's obvious why they were kept. 
Closets stacked with antique picnic baskets -- maybe "worn out", "frayed" or something similar instead of "antique".  Unless they really were antique and collectible.  That would be a bit weird but certainly not the strangest collection I've ever heard of... still, this sounds like a hoarder rather than a collector
and almost working vacuum cleaners, -- a hyphen for almost-working
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
stacks of photos you caught and that caught you. -- love these lines.  

When the ocean took it all you came, -- came where?  Came to us?  Came to town?  Came to claim your title from an evil baron?
I heard your grinning voice: -- grinning voice is a step too absurd for me.  Voices don't grin.  Perhaps cheery or some such.   
"It's just stuff."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today. -- perfect close, linking back to the title.  

Leanne, thank you so much for taking the time with this, and for your support of a piece I really don't have full confidence in, makes me think it might be worthwhile to get it right.

I am definitely going to try out salvage, couldn't see what was right under my nose, thank you. I've got some work done on those bad lines in the final strophe and will certainly consider all your points as I work through the rest. Very useful and much appreciated.

(12-21-2015, 06:49 AM)milo Wrote:  I have not read either the poems or the critiques enough times to really comment but I would like to say I prefer "unreadable " to illegible. I can expound if you would like or you can just dismiss it until I apply enough work to the whole.

I'm with you on illegible, wouldn't be me without some bad edits. Despite some encouragement here I'm not really sure this piece has what it takes, I just thought it might be fun to work on, your choice whether or not you'd enjoy taking further time with it.

(12-21-2015, 09:58 AM)ellajam Wrote:  

(12-21-2015, 05:12 AM)Leanne Wrote:  [quote='milo' pid='201476' dateline='1450648144']
I have not read either the poems or the critiques enough times to really comment but I would like to say I prefer "unreadable " to illegible. I can expound if you would like or you can just dismiss it until I apply enough work to the whole.

I'm with you on illegible, wouldn't be me without some bad edits. Despite some encouragement here I'm not really sure this piece has what it takes, I just thought it might be fun to work on, your choice whether or not you'd enjoy taking further time with it.

ok, so here is an elongated explanation of my preferring "unreadable" to illegible.:

First, let's examine what we have - we have books on a book shelf.  Some, specifically named, are Twain, Cayce, Eliot - these have no descriptive - then we have the generalized religious tomes which are described as illegible.  From what you have given us, we can conclude that either the tomes are too old, faded, or damaged to be read but are kept anyway.  So, why mention them alongside the others and why are they kept.  There is really nothing for a reader to do with this information.

"unreadable", otoh, has multiple meanings.  It /can/ mean that the text is indeed illegible though this would be unlikely.  Things can be rendered unreadable by their complexity but, more likely in this case i think, by their contrast with the other books on the shelf.  I have an old history of the American civil war I have been meaning to read for at least 10 years.  For some reason it is unreadable - why? - because there has been too much Twain, Cayce and Eliot available in m y life.  

For me, with the choice of unreadable, I get a narrator that finds religious tomes important but reading for pleasure preferable.  i find this interesting in a poem as it does character development without ever actually "telling" me about a character.

Anyway, that is the elongated version of why i would prefer 1 word over the other.

Good luck, thanks for posting.

(12-22-2015, 07:24 AM)milo Wrote:  

(12-21-2015, 09:58 AM)ellajam Wrote:  

(12-21-2015, 05:12 AM)Leanne Wrote:  [quote='milo' pid='201476' dateline='1450648144']
I have not read either the poems or the critiques enough times to really comment but I would like to say I prefer "unreadable " to illegible. I can expound if you would like or you can just dismiss it until I apply enough work to the whole.

I'm with you on illegible, wouldn't be me without some bad edits. Despite some encouragement here I'm not really sure this piece has what it takes, I just thought it might be fun to work on, your choice whether or not you'd enjoy taking further time with it.

ok, so here is an elongated explanation of my preferring "unreadable" to illegible.:

First, let's examine what we have - we have books on a book shelf.  Some, specifically named, are Twain, Cayce, Eliot - these have no descriptive - then we have the generalized religious tomes which are described as illegible.  From what you have given us, we can conclude that either the tomes are too old, faded, or damaged to be read but are kept anyway.  So, why mention them alongside the others and why are they kept.  There is really nothing for a reader to do with this information.

"unreadable", otoh, has multiple meanings.  It /can/ mean that the text is indeed illegible though this would be unlikely.  Things can be rendered unreadable by their complexity but, more likely in this case i think, by their contrast with the other books on the shelf.  I have an old history of the American civil war I have been meaning to read for at least 10 years.  For some reason it is unreadable - why? - because there has been too much Twain, Cayce and Eliot available in m y life.  

For me, with the choice of unreadable, I get a narrator that finds religious tomes important but reading for pleasure preferable.  i find this interesting in a poem as it does character development without ever actually "telling" me about a character.

Anyway, that is the elongated version of why i would prefer 1 word over the other.

Good luck, thanks for posting.

Thanks milo, a very interesting reading and what in fact I was hoping to do with the list, it is about people, not things. So now I look at the original:

religious tomes in languages
the rest of us couldn't read

It explains one why but closes off other options which you came to with less definition, that fuzzy illegible, and which in fact is a fine direction for the reader to go. I had been considering going back to the original but now I think I'll try to work with unreadable or something like it. Thanks for taking the time to explain, milo, a big help.

it feels like a poem of strength more than a poem of loss, most of my remarks were niggles on a really good read. well done ella.

(11-28-2015, 01:04 AM)ellajam Wrote:  The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #1) Gift stands out in the titles and starts the poem on a positive note.

You left without your things. ambiguity sets the reader up and readies them for discovery,

Eighty years of salvaged scraps sorted a suggestion would to lose the [d] of salvaged and [scraps] it just feels too much alliteration after a plain line
and shelved alongside Twain, Cayce, Eliot;
illegible religious tomes and old issues are they in a foreign language? show us why
of Archeology, New Yorker and Science
each with one article you couldn't trash.
Closets stacked with antique picnic baskets antique feels an odd choice of word would another word work better?
and almost working vacuum cleaners, i like the failure of this line, it does add to the almost working vacs
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
stacks of photos you caught and that caught you.

When the ocean took it all you came, over? round?
I heard your grinning voice: laughing, crying [something related to noise, ginning is related to sight]
"It's just stuff."
My arms are full of empty, my best line of the year.
free to hold today. excellent finish.


The Gift of Loss (original)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of saving
sorted, labeled, ready for reuse.
Bookshelves crammed:
Twain, Cayce, Eliot,
religious tomes in languages
the rest of us couldn't read;
favorite issues from the weekly deluge
of magazines on every subject.
Closets stacked with picnic baskets
and fixable vacuum cleaners,
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
photos of you, us, them.

When the ocean took it all you came, grinning,
reminding me "They're just things."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

Hi there Ellajam,


This is a really tight poem that I enjoyed quite a bit.  I can see that this has been through quite a revision, and I have not read the original. However, I have provided some thoughts below. I hope this is helpful.

The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #1)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvaged scraps sorted 
and shelved alongside Twain, Cayce, Eliot;
illegible religious tomes and old issues 
of Archeology, New Yorker and Science, (comma here)
each with one article you couldn't trash.
Closets stacked with antique picnic baskets 
and almost working vacuum cleaners, (I'm not too sure about "almost working", but I'm not sure of an appropriate replacement. I see that you're trying to say that they're not working but well kept. Maybe you could replace it with "and well kept broken vacuum cleaners" or something descriptive like that.)
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes, (I don't think you need "their".)
stacks of photos you caught, and that caught you. (add the comma and remove the "that".)

When the ocean took it all you came, (perhaps a full-stop, a semi-colon, or a em dash instead.)
I heard your grinning voice: 
"It's just stuff."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

Great poem.

Emma

(12-28-2015, 08:51 PM)Emz Wrote:  Hi there Ellajam,


This is a really tight poem that I enjoyed quite a bit.  I can see that this has been through quite a revision, and I have not read the original. However, I have provided some thoughts below. I hope this is helpful.

The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #1)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvaged scraps sorted 
and shelved alongside Twain, Cayce, Eliot;
illegible religious tomes and old issues 
of Archeology, New Yorker and Science, (comma here)
each with one article you couldn't trash.
Closets stacked with antique picnic baskets 
and almost working vacuum cleaners, (I'm not too sure about "almost working", but I'm not sure of an appropriate replacement. I see that you're trying to say that they're not working but well kept. Maybe you could replace it with "and well kept broken vacuum cleaners" or something descriptive like that.)
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes, (I don't think you need "their".)
stacks of photos you caught, and that caught you. (add the comma and remove the "that".)

When the ocean took it all you came, (perhaps a full-stop, a semi-colon, or a em dash instead.)
I heard your grinning voice: 
"It's just stuff."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

Great poem.

Emma

Hi, Emma, welcome to the Pen.

Thanks for taking your time to read this and to comment. Your suggestions are excellent and I'll certainly consider them in the edit I'm working on, much appreciated.

I hope you enjoy the site.

(12-22-2015, 05:40 PM)billy Wrote:  it feels like a poem of strength more than a poem of loss, most of my remarks were niggles on a really good read. well done ella.

(11-28-2015, 01:04 AM)ellajam Wrote:  The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #1) Gift stands out in the titles and starts the poem on a positive note.

You left without your things. ambiguity sets the reader up and readies them for discovery,

Eighty years of salvaged scraps sorted a suggestion would to lose the [d] of salvaged and [scraps] it just feels too much alliteration after a plain line
and shelved alongside Twain, Cayce, Eliot;
illegible religious tomes and old issues are they in a foreign language? show us why
of Archeology, New Yorker and Science
each with one article you couldn't trash.
Closets stacked with antique picnic baskets antique feels an odd choice of word would another word work better?
and almost working vacuum cleaners, i like the failure of this line, it does add to the almost working vacs
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
stacks of photos you caught and that caught you.

When the ocean took it all you came, over? round?
I heard your grinning voice: laughing, crying [something related to noise, ginning is related to sight]
"It's just stuff."
My arms are full of empty, my best line of the year.
free to hold today. excellent finish.


The Gift of Loss (original)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of saving
sorted, labeled, ready for reuse.
Bookshelves crammed:
Twain, Cayce, Eliot,
religious tomes in languages
the rest of us couldn't read;
favorite issues from the weekly deluge
of magazines on every subject.
Closets stacked with picnic baskets
and fixable vacuum cleaners,
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
photos of you, us, them.

When the ocean took it all you came, grinning,
reminding me "They're just things."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

Hey, billy, sorry I missed you. Thanks for coming around and taking the time to help out with this. Your points were well taken, I hope.

---

Again I want to thank each and every one of you who posted here, each crit was reread and taken into the new edit with me. Aside from other changes I have tried to address Q's feeling of the lack of poetry in the midsection and Jacob's prose suggestion. I've tried various arrangements (including combining every two lines, which I have spared you) and found that I missed the strong breaks and was glad to lose the weak ones. It was an interesting experiment for me, hope you'll all take another look look and voice your opinions. As always, crit (on one or the other) thoroughly appreciated.

Dear Ellajam,

Lines dropped in edit 2, which I especially liked from edit 1:

each with one article you couldn't trash. - Why did you change this? I think this line draws such a nice picture of the personality you are talking about.

and almost working vacuum cleaners, - I know you have been taken up on that one, but I especially liked it. It is NOT working, the thing actually most likely needs chucking out, but there is this chance somebody knows where exactly to kick it, to make it work again. It is, so to say, almost working, and cannot be not thrown out.

When the ocean took it all you came, - I can see how it is hard to carry on from here, but I prefered the way these words sound to the surge.


All in all, just by dropping these lines, I even like edit 1 more, even though everything else reads better in edit 2.


My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

These are my favorite lines. Not only in this poem, but ...propably EVER.

Hey Ella. I like edit#2 best, so I'll comment on that. First off I like the more deliberate word choices: salvage/deluge/harbor/rescued all lead to the ocean. Keep them.

I'm not sure about the "annotated testaments" line. I liked "each with one article you couldn't trash." better. Just my taste. I liked "article".

Lastly, for now, where did "surge" come from? I preferred the ocean personified. It sounded much bigger without the surge. 

Paul

(11-28-2015, 01:04 AM)ellajam Wrote:  The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #2)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvage shelved
beside Cayce, Twain and Eliot;
issues from the weekly deluge
of Archeology, New Yorker, Science
and annotated testaments
the rest of us would never read.
Closets harbor picnic baskets
and rescued vacuum cleaners;
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes;
photos of your youth, and ours.

When the ocean's surge took it all
your grin appeared and whispered:
They're just things.

My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

OR...

The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #2.1)(Jacob)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvage shelved beside Cayce, Twain and Eliot; issues from the weekly deluge of Archeology, New Yorker, Science and annotated testaments the rest of us would never read. Closets harbor picnic baskets and rescued vacuum cleaners; Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes; photos of your youth, and ours.

When the ocean's surge took it all
your grin appeared and whispered:
They're just things.

My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

---

The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #1)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvaged scraps sorted
and shelved alongside Twain, Cayce, Eliot;
illegible religious tomes and old issues
of Archeology, New Yorker and Science
each with one article you couldn't trash.
Closets stacked with antique picnic baskets
and almost working vacuum cleaners,
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
stacks of photos you caught and that caught you.

When the ocean took it all you came,
I heard your grinning voice:
"It's just stuff."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.


The Gift of Loss (original)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of saving
sorted, labeled, ready for reuse.
Bookshelves crammed:
Twain, Cayce, Eliot,
religious tomes in languages
the rest of us couldn't read;
favorite issues from the weekly deluge
of magazines on every subject.
Closets stacked with picnic baskets
and fixable vacuum cleaners,
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
photos of you, us, them.

When the ocean took it all you came, grinning,
reminding me "They're just things."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

(12-31-2015, 02:06 AM)Tiger the Lion Wrote:  Hey Ella. I like edit#2 best, so I'll comment on that. First off I like the more deliberate word choices: salvage/deluge/harbor/rescued all lead to the ocean. Keep them.

I'm not sure about the "annotated testaments" line. I liked "each with one article you couldn't trash." better. Just my taste. I liked "article".

Lastly, for now, where did "surge" come from? I preferred the ocean personified. It sounded much bigger without the surge. 

Paul

Thanks, Paul, so kind of you to hang in there with me. I had "testaments in languages" which reads okay but then I just found "annotated testaments" so much fun to say I threw it in there.   Do you think testaments is a good replacement for religious tombs and just annotated is off or they both stink? The article line is still up in the air, thanks for stating your view again.

Surge: I put it in for balance as the lines started developing meter, I think I'll edit it out now. Again, many thanks

(11-28-2015, 01:04 AM)ellajam Wrote:  The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #2)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvage shelved
beside Cayce, Twain and Eliot;
issues from the weekly deluge
of Archeology, New Yorker, Science
and annotated testaments
the rest of us would never read.
Closets harbor picnic baskets
and rescued vacuum cleaners;
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes;
photos of your youth, and ours.

When the ocean took it all
your grin appeared and whispered:
They're just things.

My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

OR...

The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #2.1)(Jacob)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvage shelved beside Cayce, Twain and Eliot; issues from the weekly deluge of Archeology, New Yorker, Science and annotated testaments the rest of us would never read. Closets harbor picnic baskets and rescued vacuum cleaners; Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes; photos of your youth, and ours.

When the ocean took it all
your grin appeared and whispered:
They're just things.

My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

---

The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #1)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvaged scraps sorted
and shelved alongside Twain, Cayce, Eliot;
illegible religious tomes and old issues
of Archeology, New Yorker and Science
each with one article you couldn't trash.
Closets stacked with antique picnic baskets
and almost working vacuum cleaners,
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
stacks of photos you caught and that caught you.

When the ocean took it all you came,
I heard your grinning voice:
"It's just stuff."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.


The Gift of Loss (original)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of saving
sorted, labeled, ready for reuse.
Bookshelves crammed:
Twain, Cayce, Eliot,
religious tomes in languages
the rest of us couldn't read;
favorite issues from the weekly deluge
of magazines on every subject.
Closets stacked with picnic baskets
and fixable vacuum cleaners,
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
photos of you, us, them.

When the ocean took it all you came, grinning,
reminding me "They're just things."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

Hello ellajam,

What I like about this is that it is a uniquely positive take on loss.  What I find a bit confusing is the reference to the person in the poem who left without his things.  From what I gather a storm event involving the ocean took the contents of the closet.  Was the man taken during this event or afterward?  Or was it during and his spirit came to comfort you over the loss of things?  What about the loss of him?  I really like how you listed contents of the closet and created the take that now the narrator's arms are empty for holding...but I am a little confused by the man being gone.  Perhaps these questions could be answered in the poem?  I can see by the revisions that it has been evolving.

---

(11-28-2015, 01:04 AM)ellajam Wrote:  The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #2)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvage shelved
beside Cayce, Twain and Eliot;
issues from the weekly deluge
of Archeology, New Yorker, Science
and annotated testaments
the rest of us would never read.
Closets harbor picnic baskets
and rescued vacuum cleaners;
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes;
photos of your youth, and ours.

When the ocean took it all
your grin appeared and whispered:
They're just things.

My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

OR...

The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #2.1)(Jacob)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvage shelved beside Cayce, Twain and Eliot; issues from the weekly deluge of Archeology, New Yorker, Science and annotated testaments the rest of us would never read. Closets harbor picnic baskets and rescued vacuum cleaners; Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes; photos of your youth, and ours.

When the ocean took it all
your grin appeared and whispered:
They're just things.

My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

---

The Gift of the Empty Hand (edit #1)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of salvaged scraps sorted
and shelved alongside Twain, Cayce, Eliot;
illegible religious tomes and old issues
of Archeology, New Yorker and Science
each with one article you couldn't trash.
Closets stacked with antique picnic baskets
and almost working vacuum cleaners,
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
stacks of photos you caught and that caught you.

When the ocean took it all you came,
I heard your grinning voice:
"It's just stuff."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.


The Gift of Loss (original)

You left without your things.

Eighty years of saving
sorted, labeled, ready for reuse.
Bookshelves crammed:
Twain, Cayce, Eliot,
religious tomes in languages
the rest of us couldn't read;
favorite issues from the weekly deluge
of magazines on every subject.
Closets stacked with picnic baskets
and fixable vacuum cleaners,
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes,
photos of you, us, them.

When the ocean took it all you came, grinning,
reminding me "They're just things."
My arms are full of empty,
free to hold today.

I think it took me a bit to process...indeed the narrator's arms are full of empty...empty of things and the man in the poem.  I had a delayed reaction.  And I suppose it doesn't matter when the man was last (during or after the storm).  Sorry I was a bit slow.