Revision

The surface of the pond is mute—a dull glass of no opinion,
wrinkles blur to ripples.

You remain fair, as the distant moon is fair
cold as the latticework of stars.

I hang in this same spot, where your sliced hands
smashed to shards my brother.

Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains,
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth

is a luxury, an icy sliver
searching for the heart.

You are fair as the frost
that kisses the windowpane.

Truth walks a path of shattered glass.

You are the fairest of them all—
a red poppy opening
to the sun

in a land without snow,
snow, snow.


Original

The surface of the pond is mute, a dull glass—
of no opinion,
each wrinkle seen as a ripple.

You remain fair, as the distant moon
is fair, cold
as the latticework of stars.

Yet, I hang by your sliced hands
in this same spot.
Where once lay the shards of my brother.

Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains,
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth

is a luxury.
an icy sliver
searching for the heart.

You are fair as the frost
that kisses the windowpane. Truth
walks a path of shattered glass.

You are the fairest of them all—
the blooming rose
in sultry summer,

in a land without snow,
snow, snow.

(07-21-2011, 05:30 AM)Todd Wrote:  The surface of the pond is mute, a dull glass—
of no opinion,
each wrinkle seen as a ripple. for me it feels a little telly, would it become more of an image as .. each wrinkle a ripple

You remain fair, as the distant moon
is fair, cold
as the latticework of stars. the enjambment feels out in this verse

Yet, I hang by your sliced hands
in this same spot.
Where once lay the shards of my brother. shards feels too harsh

Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains,
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth i like this line a lot.

is a luxury.
an icy sliver
searching for the heart.

You are fair as the frost
that kisses the windowpane. Truth
walks a path of shattered glass.

You are the fairest of them all—
the blooming rose
in sultry summer,

in a land without snow,
snow, snow.

you have a snow white fixation young sir
i never mention the reiterations of fair and glass because it's about snow white, (I perceive) the reiteration of truth on the other hand feels a little heavy. i think it could improve with a small edit. jmo

thanks for the read and great to see you slip a poem up

This is some beautiful work, Todd. Plus, I adore that title .

(07-21-2011, 05:30 AM)Todd Wrote:  The surface of the pond is mute, a dull glass—
of no opinion, I love this. Something about the punctuation seems off though... maybe the dash should be after "mute"?
each wrinkle seen as a ripple.

You remain fair, as the distant moon
is fair, cold
as the latticework of stars.

Yet, I hang by your sliced hands for me this line would have more drama without "Yet"
in this same spot.
Where once lay the shards of my brother.

Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains, I like the effect the colon gives, like watching a sunrise in progress
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth

is a luxury. nice bridge of the line
an icy sliver
searching for the heart.

You are fair as the frost
that kisses the windowpane. Truth Is there a significance to this repetition of truth? If so, maybe restructure it in a more prominent place to reflect that
walks a path of shattered glass.

You are the fairest of them all—
the blooming rose
in sultry summer, "rose in summer" is not particularly original but in context it works well

in a land without snow,
snow, snow. I love this close

Hi, Billy thanks for the comments. I took them into account as I did the revision. And yes, I might have a snow white fixation. Mostly, I seem to write to four themes:

Fairy Tale revisions
Retelling of the four gospels (bound to piss everyone off)
Retellings of Famous People
And some personal confessional type observations

I'm glad to be posting something here too. I always seem to have less time to write than I would like, but when I do I appreciate everyones great feedback.

Thanks again,

Todd

(07-21-2011, 08:37 AM)billy Wrote:  

(07-21-2011, 05:30 AM)Todd Wrote:  The surface of the pond is mute, a dull glass—
of no opinion,
each wrinkle seen as a ripple. for me it feels a little telly, would it become more of an image as .. each wrinkle a ripple

You remain fair, as the distant moon
is fair, cold
as the latticework of stars. the enjambment feels out in this verse

Yet, I hang by your sliced hands
in this same spot.
Where once lay the shards of my brother. shards feels too harsh

Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains,
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth i like this line a lot.

is a luxury.
an icy sliver
searching for the heart.

You are fair as the frost
that kisses the windowpane. Truth
walks a path of shattered glass.

You are the fairest of them all—
the blooming rose
in sultry summer,

in a land without snow,
snow, snow.

you have a snow white fixation young sir
i never mention the reiterations of fair and glass because it's about snow white, (I perceive) the reiteration of truth on the other hand feels a little heavy. i think it could improve with a small edit. jmo

thanks for the read and great to see you slip a poem up

---

Hi Addy,

Thank you so much. You pointed out some things that really helped me consider where to take this. I appreciate fully both your comments and the time spent with the piece. It was most helpful. Hopefully the revision is a step forward.

Best,

Todd

(07-21-2011, 04:55 PM)addy Wrote:  This is some beautiful work, Todd. Plus, I adore that title .

(07-21-2011, 05:30 AM)Todd Wrote:  The surface of the pond is mute, a dull glass—
of no opinion, I love this. Something about the punctuation seems off though... maybe the dash should be after "mute"?
each wrinkle seen as a ripple.

You remain fair, as the distant moon
is fair, cold
as the latticework of stars.

Yet, I hang by your sliced hands for me this line would have more drama without "Yet"
in this same spot.
Where once lay the shards of my brother.

Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains, I like the effect the colon gives, like watching a sunrise in progress
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth

is a luxury. nice bridge of the line
an icy sliver
searching for the heart.

You are fair as the frost
that kisses the windowpane. Truth Is there a significance to this repetition of truth? If so, maybe restructure it in a more prominent place to reflect that
walks a path of shattered glass.

You are the fairest of them all—
the blooming rose
in sultry summer, "rose in summer" is not particularly original but in context it works well

in a land without snow,
snow, snow. I love this close

Nice edit Todd. I do like the symbolic use of poppy. I cannot emphasize how awesome your choice of POV is... the serene beauty it speaks of hiding undertones of cold paranoia. You've captured an interesting narrative angle very well

Hiya Todd, I just thought I'd wander along now that everyone's done the hard work

Firstly, I have a great love of fairytales and myths as the basis for poetry because of the dimensions they add, tapping into the collective cultural consciousness (alliteration not deliberate, I promise!). All of these tales have some grounding in reality, whether they're based on a true story or just used to illustrate a common situation or personality trait. Now, your poem:

The surface of the pond is mute—a dull glass of no opinion,
wrinkles blur to ripples. -- I love this contrast with the talkative mirror of the tale

You remain fair, as the distant moon is fair
cold as the latticework of stars. -- beautifully brittle image

I hang in this same spot, where your sliced hands
smashed to shards my brother.

Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains,
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth

is a luxury, an icy sliver -- wonderful enjambment between stanzas
searching for the heart. -- shades of "The Snow Queen" here as well.

You are fair as the frost
that kisses the windowpane.

Truth walks a path of shattered glass. -- great assonance in this line -- would "truth treads" be too alliterative for you?

You are the fairest of them all—
a red poppy opening
to the sun

in a land without snow,
snow, snow. -- I find this image very sad, as if she's beautiful among other beauties, rather than ever standing out -- "snow" is such a soft word, the close of the poem fades into regret perfectly

Genuinely well handled, very thoughtful and pertinent to many people -- I really enjoyed this, Todd.

(07-21-2011, 05:30 AM)Todd Wrote:  Revision

The surface of the pond is mute—a dull glass of no opinion,
wrinkles blur to ripples. this line is improved 10 fold. love it.b]

You remain fair, as the distant moon is fair
cold as the latticework of stars.

I hang in this same spot, where your sliced hands [b] better without 'yet'
smashed to shards my brother. the context of shards works better here

Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains,
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth

is a luxury, an icy sliver
searching for the heart. better

You are fair as the frost
that kisses the windowpane.

Truth walks a path of shattered glass. i like this line on it's own, the 2nd truth works in it, 'walks' feel a little mundane

You are the fairest of them all—
a red poppy opening
to the sun

in a land without snow,
snow, snow.

the enjambment issues have gone and the layout works extremely well. you sorted the truth thing out well by making it obvious the last line
great edit Todd. jmo.

Original

The surface of the pond is mute, a dull glass—
of no opinion,
each wrinkle seen as a ripple.

You remain fair, as the distant moon
is fair, cold
as the latticework of stars.

Yet, I hang by your sliced hands
in this same spot.
Where once lay the shards of my brother.

Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains,
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth

is a luxury.
an icy sliver
searching for the heart.

You are fair as the frost
that kisses the windowpane. Truth
walks a path of shattered glass.

You are the fairest of them all—
the blooming rose
in sultry summer,

in a land without snow,
snow, snow.

Todd

I like this.
A few nits follow.

Relace one truth with another word if possible.

The surface of the pond is mute...
this really isn't a metaphor
using a pond so this should remain in the mirror I think.

a dull glass of no opinion....
we actually do get the mirrors opinion


Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains,
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth

is a luxury.
an icy sliver
searching for the heart.

This is excellent. nice imagery.



You are the fairest of them all—
the blooming rose
in sultry summer,

in a land without snow,
snow, snow.

This is the best of the best in this poem. It's a poem all in itself.

She would be the fairest if not for Snow White.

Love the snow snow snow
wish I had thought of that.

Cheers
David

Hi, Todd.

This is a monochromatic canvas with a vivid splash - the red poppy opening to the sun wields an interesting effect set against the backdrop you painted.

I echo Leanne's suggestion of "Truth treads a path of shattered glass".

Beautiful poem. Thank you for sharing.

(07-22-2011, 08:48 AM)addy Wrote:  Nice edit Todd. I do like the symbolic use of poppy. I cannot emphasize how awesome your choice of POV is... the serene beauty it speaks of hiding undertones of cold paranoia. You've captured an interesting narrative angle very well

Cool thanks Addy! Without these narrative angles I doubt I'd write anything. Your feedback went a long way toward making this edit, I'm glad you found it effective. Oh, and I'm glad you like the poppy (thanks for the call out on the rose).

Best,

Todd

---

Hi Leanne,

Thank you for your comments. I'm glad you liked the contrast with the pond (mirror perhaps envies the fact that the pond has no tongue). I appreciate seeing which lines seemed to pop out for you. I had forgotten about the Snow Queen, I'd just remembered that that was in some fairy tale I read, and I tried to think how a magic mirror would be (a sort of tourettes to avoid speaking the truth) and as it sought not to speak it kept coming up with cold references leading to it's ultimate answer. As for truth treads, every choice means you give up something else. I agree that walks is a fairly pedestrian word it sat there for its soft a sound. I probably already accomplish that with the other words in the line (path and shattered). Treads is a better word (I'll give it some thought). I like your take on the snow repetition. I got a lot out of the critique.

Thank you again.

Best,

Todd

---

Thanks Billy! Your earlier call out on enjambment made me rethink some of those lines. I'm glad you think the changes are a step forward.

Best,

Todd

---

Hi David,

Thank you for your comments. I'll give some thought to what you say about relacing one of the truths. It's possible that I need to execute the opening a little better. I meant the opening to convey the mirror lamenting that it wasn't mute as the pond is mute, and that stating its opinion was a danger that the pond never had.
I'm glad the ending worked for you, and yes if not for Snow White what might have happened. Although knowing the mirrors luck there was probably someone else in the Black Forest or New Jersey that was also fairer than the queen (she did ask fairest of all when you think about it...she didn't say and if not the fairest where do I rate)?

Thanks again,

Todd

---

Hi Aish,

Thank you for your kind comments. I will put another vote in for Truth treads. I'm glad you liked the poem.

Best,

Todd