Please ignore the double spacing. I don't know how to remove it! 



Revision 4:

A Kind of Innocence 





There was a devout swaying 

when dad sidled down the doorstep, 

as if god had spat sanctity 

into the bow of the breeze. My cheeks 





glittered like sequins as he descended 

onto the pond-black road in that thin red coat 

he wore like skin. When his car coughed 

its final puff of smoke, I leaned 





on the fence by the barnyard pen, 

next to chickens and hogs and unholiness. 

I was nine then. I hadn’t yet learned 

that there is a kind of innocence gods steal





from those who worship. As dad floated 

like a goldfish towards the luster

of the sun’s flaxen rim, 

I shut my eyes in prayer.





Revision 3:

Those Who Worship





There was a devout swaying when dad 

sidled down the doorstep, as if god had 

spat sanctity into the bow of the breeze. 

My eyes glittered like sequins as he 





descended onto the pond-black road in 

that thin red coat he wore like skin. 

When his car coughed its final puff of 

smoke into the air, I leaned on the boards 





of the barnyard pen, next to the chickens 

and hogs and unholiness. I was nine 

years old then and I hadn’t yet learned 

that there is a kind of innocence gods 





steal from those who worship. As dad 

rattled away, swimming like a goldfish 

towards the luster of the sun’s flaxen rim, 

I shut my eyes in prayer.




Revision 2:

Those Who Worship





There was a devout swaying when dad 

sidled down the doorstep, as if god had coughed 

sanctity into the bow of the breeze 

and the creak of the threshold 

like a bloody tooth. My face glittered like 





a diamond as he descend onto 

the pond-black road in that thin red coat 

he wore like skin. When his car spat its 

final puff of ash into the air,





I leaned on the boards of the barnyard 

pen, squatting next to the chickens and hogs 

and unholiness. I was nine years old then and

I hadn’t yet learned that there is a kind of 





innocence gods steal from those who

worship. As dad clattered away, 

swimming like a goldfish towards the luster 

of the sun’s golden rim, I shut my eyes in prayer.



Original:

Those Who Worship


There was a devout 
swaying when dad 
strode down the doorstep, 
as if god had coughed 
sanctity into 
the bow of the breeze 
and the creak 
of the threshold 
like a bloody tooth 
into a latex glove. 
My face glittered like 


a sack of opaque gems
as dad descend onto 
the pond-black road 
in the thin red coat 
he wore like skin. 
When his car rubbed its 
final puff of cigarette 
ash into the air,


I leaned on the boards 
of the barnyard 
pen, squatting next 
to the chickens and hogs 
and unholiness. I was 
nine years old then and
I hadn’t yet learned that


there is a kind of 
innocence gods steal 
from those who
worship. As dad 
clattered away, 
swimming like a goldfish 
towards the luster 
of the sun’s golden rim,
I shut my eyes in prayer.

(11-02-2021, 06:10 AM)Sapphire26855 Wrote:  Those Who Worship


There was a devout 
swaying when dad 
strode down the doorstep, 
as if god had coughed 
sanctity into 
the bow of the breeze 
and the creak 
of the threshold 
like a bloody tooth 
into a latex glove. 
My face glittered like 


a sack of opaque gems
as dad descend onto 
the pond-black road 
in the thin red coat 
he wore like skin. 
When his car rubbed its 
final puff of cigarette 
ash into the air,                     I don't understand what's happening in these lines.....


I leaned on the boards 
of the barnyard 
pen, squatting next 
to the chickens and hogs 
and unholiness. I was 
nine years old then and
I hadn’t yet learned that


there is a kind of 
innocence gods steal 
from those who
worship. As dad 
clattered away, 
swimming like a goldfish 
towards the luster 
of the sun’s golden rim,
I shut my eyes in prayer.

Welcome Sapphire,

Just the one note on lines in second stanza which puzzle me.  I'm also not sure where it is the father is clattering away to (church?), but that doesn't really bother me.  The rest of the poem is clear to me.  I like the spareness of the poem.

TqB

.
Hi Sapphire,
enjoyed the read but was left wondering what happened to the swaying devout of the opening.
Not keen on the short line lengths, made for a bit of a stop-start stop-start experience. I think you might transpose the 'kind of innocence' section to the end particularly given the title).
In a couple of places you pile image upon image, and I don't think the does anything other than confuse (this reader).

Some thoughts/suggestions


Those Who Worship


There was a devout ........................... It's a really intriguing opening, but it doesn't seem to go anywhere. And where is this devout? On the sidewalk, up a tree. where?
swaying when dad
strode down the doorstep, ................. can one stride down a doorstep? Stepped onto the porch? Maybe?
as if god had coughed
sanctity into
the bow of the breeze
and the creak
of the threshold ................................ I find this a little confusing, does the 'as if' relate to the 'bow of the breeze' and/or 'the creak of the threshold and/or 'dad strode'?
like a bloody tooth .......................... I like this, but the next line, the 'latex glove' takes me away from what I'm assuming, at this stage, is a child narrator (why wouldn't they spit the tooth into their own hand, why the dentist?)
into a latex glove.
My face glittered like ..................... second 'like' in quick succession, and ending on a preposition adds nothing, nor does the - what? a dramatic pause? - space, between this line and the next verse.

a sack of opaque gems ................... don't think the image works at all. If the gems are opaque, not to mention in a sack, how do they glitter?
as dad descend onto
the pond-black road ...................... like 'pond-black' (not sure about the portentous 'descended' or indeed 'onto') but what's happened to the 'devout'?
in the thin red coat
he wore like skin. ......................... skin feels a bit bare/weak, anything better?
When his car rubbed its
final puff of cigarette
ash into the air, ............................ how does this work, struggling to picture it. How do you rub something into the air?

I leaned on the boards
of the barnyard .......................... do barnyards have boards? Genuinely curious.
pen, squatting next ................... you're 'leaning' and 'squatting'?
to the chickens and hogs
and unholiness. I was ............. think you can cut the 'and'
nine years old then and
I hadn’t yet learned that

there is a kind of
innocence gods steal
from those who
worship. As dad
clattered away,
swimming like a goldfish ..... how can one 'clatter' and 'swim' ? And isn't it the car, rather than dad, doing the clattering?
towards the luster
of the sun’s golden rim,
I shut my eyes in prayer. ...... Why?


_________


There was a devout, swaying,
when while dad strode down the doorstep,
as if god had coughed sanctity into the bow of the breeze

and the creak of the threshold
like a bloody tooth
into a latex glove.

My face glittered as dad he descend
onto the pond-black road,
in that thin red coat he wore like skin.

When his car rubbed its final puff of cigarette ash into the air,
I leaned on the boards of the barnyard pen, squatting
next to the chickens, and the hogs and unholiness.

As dad clattered away, swimming like a goldfish
towards the luster of the sun’s golden rim,
I shut my eyes in prayer.

I was nine years old then and I hadn’t yet learned
that there is a kind of innocence gods steal
from those who worship them.


_________



To me this is the heart of the piece.

There was a devout, swaying, when dad strode down
I was nine years old then and I hadn’t yet learned
that there is a kind of innocence the gods steal
from those who worship them.



Best, Knot


.

Hello Sapphire-

First off, welcome to the Pen!  Your first post appears in the INTENSIVE forum, and that means that a higher level of critique should be expected: please remember that I am commenting on the poem, and not the poet.  Also bear in mind that my comments are not based upon comments that others may make, and those others may read things quite differently than me.

That said, on to the poem:

There was a devout swaying when dad This is very clumsy wording for an opening.  I think that "devout swaying" could be described in one word as "shuckled"

sidled down the doorstep, as if god had coughed Capital "G" in this instance

sanctity into the bow of the breeze I'm trying hard to visualize this: coughing holiness (sanctity) doesn't work for me.

and the creak of the threshold I don't think you need this line, because it puts too much separation between "coughed" and "bloody tooth"

like a bloody tooth. My face glittered like Though "bloody tooth" refers to the coughing, it is really describing your dad: God coughed up your dad like a bloody tooth is how I read it.  Also, "my face glittered" makes me think that there is actual glitter on N's face. Eyes may glitter, but faces?


a diamond as he descend onto Try to avoid a cliche like "glittering diamonds."  SP- "descend" should be "descended"

the pond-black road in that thin red coat 

he wore like skin. When his car spat its  I like the contrast of the "pond-black road" and "thin red coat"

final puff of ash into the air,  Car spat a puff of ash??  Smoke maybe, but ash??


I leaned on the boards of the barnyard

pen, squatting next to the chickens, and hogs Don't need "the"

and unholiness. I was nine years old then and Please don't turn on "and"

I hadn’t yet learned that there is a kind of "a kind of" is too vague, and adds nothing


innocence gods can be stolensteal from those who

worship. As dad clattered away, The car is clattering, not dad, right?

swimming like a goldfish towards the luster "clattered" and "swimming" just do not work together

of the sun’s golden rim, I shut my eyes in prayer.  There isn't enough ahead of this last line to give this reader a clue to what the N may be praying about, or for. Obscure endings can be fine as long as they're not too obscure: I just don't know how to interpret this.


I get the impression that dad had some religious "swagger", yet can be compared to a bloody tooth, but there isn't enough to frlesh out that comparison.

In the next revision pay closer attention to line breaks- where you turn the lines- as many of the turns seem arbitrary.   

I would suggest that N's 9 year old self should come much earlier in this piece.

I get a whiff of child abuse from this poem, because of innocence being stolen, and the praying at the end, but there isn't much more to base that suspicion on. 

This poem has potential if the imagery is clarified and better atention is paid to details.

Good luck,
Mark 

Sapphire26855,



I hope it's alright but I took the liberty to reformat the piece so it could be easier to read. Thoughts below

---

Update: I noticed the format was still kinda botched in this post and I think it might be because of the font. I'm just going to leave it haha

(11-02-2021, 06:10 AM)Sapphire26855 Wrote:  Revision 3:















Those Who Worship















There was a devout swaying when dad What exactly is swaying here is not that clear. Is the swaying in the dad's gait? It does make a good opener though







sidled down the doorstep, as if god had I like the use of sidle because it kinda implies that pious fear of god in the way the dad steps out the door.











spat sanctity into the bow of the breeze. I'm not so sure what "bow" means in this sense, but I think the idea of god spitting sanctity into the wind is pretty interesting. Makes me wonder: why spitting? Does the answer lie in a deeper reading of the poem?











My eyes glittered like sequins as he "Sequins" I feel is a nice comparison that begins to age the narrator



















descended onto the pond-black road in "Descended onto" feels more direct, driven and unafraid in movement as opposed to "sidling", like a hawk descending onto prey for example. Is this intended? If so, why the change in the dad's demeanor all of a sudden? Pond-black is also a nice descriptor and a nice seed to plant for the poem's concluding stanza.











that thin red coat he wore like skin. Feel like this could be made more interesting if you turned the comparison into a metaphor of some sort.











When his car coughed its final puff of The enjambment feels unnecessary, I would bump "of" down to the next line











smoke into the air, I leaned on the boards While "into the air" makes the line sound nicer imo, I would cut it. It's a given that the car "coughs" into the air, wouldnt you say?































of the barnyard pen, next to the chickens 











and hogs and unholiness. I was nine Unholiness is not that clear to me. Is the barnyard space something that the dad doesn't approve of?











years old then and I hadn’t yet learned Nit/suggestion: the N could just say "I was nine then and..."











that there is a kind of innocence gods The enjambment here doesn't work for me either; without a "that" before "gods" the line reads awkwardly at first. But even if this were to be remedied, ending the line at "gods" doesn't seem to serve anything conceptually for the poem























steal from those who worship. As dad This line and the line before sounds cool, but this "kind of innocence" is unclear to me.











rattled away, swimming like a goldfish The rattling I guess is in reference to the car, but how is he rattling away and also swimming away? I'm guessing that since you used pond-black earlier in the poem that this is an image you'd like to keep throughout your revisions. At this point in the poem, it seems like the dad has lost his timidity that was suggested in the first stanza, but it remains unclear to me what contributed to that











towards the luster of the sun’s flaxen rim, Does he swim toward the luster, or is he guided by the luster?











I shut my eyes in prayer. There are a couple things that I feel like were key in understanding in order for this ending to pay off and the sad part is that because I feel I've missed a couple things, this ending doesn't pay off. It sounds like there's a strong concept here but it's not conveyed well enough at least for me.

I might suggest exploring new titles. "Those Who Worship" seems focused on a demographic of people when the subject of this poem seems to only be a father.







Despite my critiques, I did enjoy the poem and thought it was a good first post. Thank you for sharing and welcome to the site : )







Best,



Alex

Hi Sapphire,

Off the top, the double-spacing between the lines of the poem, albeit intentional - I presume, do nothing in furthering the conceit of the poem. Some in-line notes follow:


There was a devout swaying //when dad 

sidled down the doorstep,// as if god had 

spat sanctity’’ into the bow of the breeze. ‘’

My eyes glittered like sequins as he …(descended)

 —(I think that the enjambment of S1 detracts from the impact of the lines and phrases of this stanza and in actuality the whole poem. The last word in a line should create a certain “tugging” effect leading the reader into the next line. I added double back slashes where you might enjamb the lines in a more effective fashion. I’m sure that you can probably come up with your own enjambments to better effect.)



descended onto the pond-black road //in 

that thin red coat he wore like skin.// 

When his car coughed its final puff //of 

smoke into the air, I leaned //on the boards —-(I usually try to  refrain from ending a line on a conjunction or preposition. )


of the barnyard pen, //next to the chickens 

and hogs and unholiness.// I was nine 

years old then //and I hadn’t yet learned //

that there is a kind of innocence// gods 



steal from those who worship. //As dad 

rattled away, swimming //like a goldfish 

towards the luster //of the sun’s flaxen rim, //

I shut my eyes in prayer.



Overall this poem works well. Its imagery is rich and paints a clear tableau. The poem seems to represent the ingenue protagonist at nine years old and their loss of innocence or a change in a cognitive mindset or paradigm. The use of the uncapitalized word "god" being the tell-tale sign that this shift has taken root. The last line reverberates and rings true to this reader. Fine poem for a first offering. I look forward to any revisions. Good luck with this.

Best,
Beowulf

Sapphire26855 dateline='[url=tel:1635801017' Wrote:  1635801017[/url]']
Please ignore the double spacing. I don't know how to remove it! 



Revision 4:

A Kind of Innocence 





There was a devout swaying 

when dad sidled down the doorstep, 

as if god had spat sanctity 

into the bow of the breeze. My cheeks 





glittered like sequins as he descended 

onto the pond-black road in that thin red coat 

he wore like skin. When his car coughed 

its final puff of smoke, I leaned 





on the fence by the barnyard pen, 

next to chickens and hogs and unholiness. 

I was nine then. I hadn’t yet learned 

that there is a kind of innocence gods steal





from those who worship. As dad floated 

like a goldfish towards the luster

of the sun’s flaxen rim, 

I shut my eyes in prayer.





Revision 3:

Those Who Worship





There was a devout swaying when dad 

sidled down the doorstep, as if god had 

spat sanctity into the bow of the breeze. 

My eyes glittered like sequins as he 





descended onto the pond-black road in 

that thin red coat he wore like skin. 

When his car coughed its final puff of 

smoke into the air, I leaned on the boards 





of the barnyard pen, next to the chickens 

and hogs and unholiness. I was nine 

years old then and I hadn’t yet learned 

that there is a kind of innocence gods 





steal from those who worship. As dad 

rattled away, swimming like a goldfish 

towards the luster of the sun’s flaxen rim, 

I shut my eyes in prayer.




Revision 2:

Those Who Worship





There was a devout swaying when dad 

sidled down the doorstep, as if god had coughed 

sanctity into the bow of the breeze 

and the creak of the threshold 

like a bloody tooth. My face glittered like 





a diamond as he descend onto 

the pond-black road in that thin red coat 

he wore like skin. When his car spat its 

final puff of ash into the air,





I leaned on the boards of the barnyard 

pen, squatting next to the chickens and hogs 

and unholiness. I was nine years old then and

I hadn’t yet learned that there is a kind of 





innocence gods steal from those who

worship. As dad clattered away, 

swimming like a goldfish towards the luster 

of the sun’s golden rim, I shut my eyes in prayer.



Original:

Those Who Worship


There was a devout 
swaying when dad 
strode down the doorstep, 
as if god had coughed 
sanctity into 
the bow of the breeze 
and the creak 
of the threshold 
like a bloody tooth 
into a latex glove. 
My face glittered like 


a sack of opaque gems
as dad descend onto 
the pond-black road 
in the thin red coat 
he wore like skin. 
When his car rubbed its 
final puff of cigarette 
ash into the air,


I leaned on the boards 
of the barnyard 
pen, squatting next 
to the chickens and hogs 
and unholiness. I was 
nine years old then and
I hadn’t yet learned that


there is a kind of 
innocence gods steal 
from those who
worship. As dad 
clattered away, 
swimming like a goldfish 
towards the luster 
of the sun’s golden rim,
I shut my eyes in prayer.

The strength of your poem to me is the sense of motion and place.
Creating a concrete sense of movement can really ground a piece and pull the reader in.
Without going line by line I would suggest you ask yourself “what is my overall theme” 
“What do I ultimately want the reader to get from reading my work?”
Some of your metaphors need some tightening up.
I like the lightness and atmosphere you create but I’m left a bit confused on the overall message.

Keep at it! Definitely some great beginnings here.