New Old Hat

[oligoclonal]

I haven't written in a long, long time. I am used to criticism -- nay, I long for it. I have multiple sclerosis, and that prevents me from doing a lot of things I used to love. As giving up is not an option, I wrote the first poem I have in nearly a decade. I want to get back on my horse. Thank you for reading.

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I love words but I stopped reading
about two years ago when my eyes altogether
stopped finding joy in it. Late nights by a hallway’s glow after family went to bed
or in college or at any time in my life at any time of the day
are now memories included in The Life I Had which truth be told
is comprised mainly of troubled working parts I abandon with great relief.

I once had a favorite book but have no idea if it would now befit –
while it for so long encompassed the whole of me I no longer know
that it could anymore or which new story might. To simply listen
still robs the grit of lines embossed into a page; their shape and span and ink
made as much a story as the words they built. Whether or not, even,
there was a serif made the personality of each letter
as they appeared on a stage with curtains scalloped in the center .

I love painting but my vision burns the edges or middle off
details in the whole when I stand back to scrutinize its details. I cannot trust
my hands with the curves of a body or especially the fine grout in an eyelid.
I love walking but every proper or misstep fires from groin through thighs and
I love sleeping but do so now best in smaller increments during certain times and
I love swallowing and I love having an even pulse and I love
thinking outside the fog of frayed axons and I love
remembering and I love
I love I love
silver linings. I love knowing
why it is
I have become so very, very good at falling.

[Leanne]

Hello and welcome! I'm going to take a few more reads of this and let it settle before I give you a full critique, but please don't think it's being ignored -- it's wonderful to see your quite unique style on show. There are a few things I'd probably change but I want to make sure they'll strengthen the poem, which is why I really need to immerse myself in your kind of writing rather than trying to impose my own stylistic choices.

It might take me a day or so. I'm not speedy

[oligoclonal]

Leanne, thank you!

[Mr. Shankly]

I thoroughly enjoyed reading your poem. In particular, the build-up beginning in the second stanza and continuing until the end of the poem. In general, I feel a great deal of emotion through-out. The end of the second stanza confuses me a bit, I'm just not sure I understand; which could, admittedly, be my own failing.

[oligoclonal]

Thank you, Sar! I'm a graphic designer, so "serif" is part of my lexicon there and the last line of the stanza is just a fancy way of saying "book." Thank you for letting me know how it reads, though! It's very helpful.

[Todd]

Hello oligoclonal, welcome to the site!

I very much enjoyed your poem. There were some strong lines and much of the content resonated with me. Here are some comments for you below for your consideration:

I love words but I stopped reading--effective first line. You could likely do without the second instance of I
about two years ago when my eyes altogether--This flirts with being a bit too much like prose (for my tastes). If there are words that can be cut that might actually remove some of that feel and enhance the poem without sacrificing tone or content. Words you might consider cutting here are "about" and "altogether". I would also consider pulling stopped up a line not just for the symmetry with the earlier line, but to layer the meaning to imply blindness only to undo it on the next line when you add the loss of joy.
stopped finding joy in it. Late nights by a hallway’s glow after family went to bed
or in college or at any time in my life at any time of the day
are now memories included in The Life I Had which truth be told
is comprised mainly of troubled working parts I abandon with great relief.--I very much like the ideas here. Especially the troubled working parts and the idea of abandoning them with great relief. That portion is very interesting. Hallway's glow is a nice image for giving a hidden warm joy to the act of reading. I feel you could compress most of this and get to the interesting end parts sooner. It feels a little too wordy for accomplishing your purposes

I once had a favorite book but have no idea if it would now befit –
while it for so long encompassed the whole of me I no longer know
that it could anymore or which new story might. To simply listen
still robs the grit of lines embossed into a page; their shape and span and ink
made as much a story as the words they built. Whether or not, even,
there was a serif made the personality of each letter
as they appeared on a stage with curtains scalloped in the center .

Here there are elements that I like. "I once had a favorite book" is a good opening for the strophe. You might be able to skip to this part next: "it for so long encompassed the whole of me" I'm not trying to rewrite what you're saying. I do like the tone and cadence, but I think you can hold it together with fewer words. The entire grit of lines, the serif, the printing as important as the writing idea, the curtains scalloped are all beautifully done. I'd like to see them pop more.

I love painting but my vision burns the edges or middle off
details in the whole when I stand back to scrutinize its details. I cannot trust
my hands with the curves of a body or especially the fine grout in an eyelid.
I love walking but every proper or misstep fires from groin through thighs and
I love sleeping but do so now best in smaller increments during certain times and
I love swallowing and I love having an even pulse and I love
thinking outside the fog of frayed axons and I love
remembering and I love
I love I love
silver linings. I love knowing
why it is
I have become so very, very good at falling.

This litany of I love...is really well done. It picks up the pace in a rush. Again though there are some repetitions that could be cut like "to scrutinize its details." All of the shorter parts on sleeping, and swallowing, and pulse work really well. I like the repetition of I love, I love as well as the very, very in the final line. Great ending by the way. I also think your cynical reference to the cliched "silver linings" redeems it and it works quite well.

I could have went line by line, but I wanted to be careful. I like what you've built. I think it has emotional power. I'd like to see what you could do with it if you chose to revise by paring it down some. I hope some of that was helpful.

Best,

Todd

[Pete Ak]

I feel there's something very clever going on here! I read the preamble and believe it's likely to work as well to those who read it without the knowledge you impart.
What impressed me most was that the poem itself encouraged me to read it in a certain way... stiltingly at first but then more and more hurried as the end looms, as if N is in a rush to say all that must be said before he can say no more.

The second stanza is quite brilliant imo, likening the setting down and appearance of the words as part of the story. I do wonder tho if using a theatrical metaphor in the last line is distracting, might there be a more 'bookish' allusion?

My final observation is not really mine - just passing on feedback I've had - 'very' is apparently not a good word in poems, 'very, very' is at least twice as bad! (I didn't appreciate that advice either!)

[Leanne]

I love words but I stopped reading
about two years ago when my eyes altogether -- altogether seems unnecessary
stopped finding joy in it. Late nights by a hallway’s glow after family went to bed -- it is odd that you miss out either article or possessive before "family" when the rest of the poem has fairly solid sentence structure
or in college or at any time in my life at any time of the day
are now memories included in The Life I Had which truth be told -- comma after "had" would break up the breathlessness, which is effective prior to that but becomes too much
is comprised mainly of troubled working parts I abandon with great relief. -- personally I would put "mainly comprised" but if that's how you'd say it, then leave it alone

I once had a favorite book but have no idea if it would now befit – -- "befit" just doesn't seem the right word -- I actually think if you removed "but have no idea it would now befit" entirely, it wouldn't hurt as this is implied in the next few lines -- to make that work you'd have to remove "while it" on the next line though
while it for so long encompassed the whole of me I no longer know
that it could anymore or which new story might. To simply listen
still robs the grit of lines embossed into a page; their shape and span and ink -- gorgeous descriptive phrasing
made as much a story as the words they built. Whether or not, even,
there was a serif made the personality of each letter
as they appeared on a stage with curtains scalloped in the center . -- and a terrific set of metaphors -- this is the stanza that saves your poem from the pitfalls of prose and lifts it to rather more spectacular heights

I love painting but my vision burns the edges or middle off
details in the whole when I stand back to scrutinize its details. I cannot trust -- two uses of "details" in one line is one too many
my hands with the curves of a body or especially the fine grout in an eyelid.
I love walking but every proper or misstep fires from groin through thighs and
I love sleeping but do so now best in smaller increments during certain times and
I love swallowing and I love having an even pulse and I love
thinking outside the fog of frayed axons and I love
remembering and I love
I love I love
silver linings. I love knowing
why it is
I have become so very, very good at falling. -- normally I'd go a bit crazy at the idea of so many loves and verys in such a short space of time, but here the simplicity of it all seems to work. This is because the introspective depth of the preceding stanzas gives a very solid background for this last, despairing but hopeful stanza. It's as if you're saying "yes world, I can appreciate and savour your complexity -- but even more I can appreciate being here to savour it".

[oligoclonal]

Leanne, thank you! Everybody, oh my goodness thank you!

[oligoclonal]

I am really very touched by the amount of positive feedback you all have given me -- and what wasn't a direct compliment was incredibly helpful; it has been a win-win.

I stopped writing after college when the relationship I was in became abusive in tandem with my MS symptoms starting to flare (without, of course, me knowing why). I lost a decade of my life to the person I was with, then even more of it to an incurable, progressive disease. More than several other bad things happened during that time, and several more have happened since. Then something amazing happened and I found (and married) my soulmate then finished losing a hundred pounds. I am able to start writing again... not much nor as often as I would like, but anything is better than the blank space without it. Thank you all so much.

---

Here is a rework. I love/utilized all the input and have been playing with the lines; advise? I hope to be repaying all of your kindnesses on the boards soon.

------------------------

I love words but stopped reading
two years ago when my eyes stopped
finding joy in it. Late nights by a hallway’s glow
after family went to bed or in college or
at any time in my life at any time of day

are now memories included in The Life I Had, which truth be told
is comprised of troubled working parts I abandon with great relief.

I once had a favorite book:
while it for so long encompassed the whole of me I no longer know
that it could anymore or which new story might. To simply listen
still robs the grit of lines embossed into a page; their shape
and span and ink and even whether there was a serif made
the personality of each letter as they appeared
on a stage with curtains scalloped in the center.

I love painting but my vision burns the edges or middle off
details in the whole when I stand back to scrutinize. I cannot trust
my hands with the curves of a body or especially the fine grout in an eyelid.
I love walking but every proper or misstep fires from groin through thighs and
I love sleeping but do so now best in smaller increments during certain times and
I love swallowing and I love having an even pulse and I love
thinking outside the fog of frayed axons and I love
remembering and I love
I love I love
silver linings. I love knowing
why it is
I have become so very, very good at falling.

[oligoclonal]

I am going to go with this version, actually. I have a habit of overworking everything so this is where I will stop.

[billy]

i know you stopped with this version but i missed the first write, is the poem meant to be punctuation free, is so you have some that needs removing, if not you have some that needs adding, mainly comma's. just nits. in general it's a solid read that allows the reader a glimpse of what the 1st person is going through at a point in their life.

Here is a rework. I love/utilized all the input and have been playing with the lines; advise? I hope to be repaying all of your kindnesses on the boards soon.

------------------------

I love words but stopped reading
two years ago when my eyes stopped would another word do as two stopped in two sentences is one two many
finding joy in it. Late nights by a hallway’s glow
after family went to bed or in college or
at any time in my life at any time of day

are now memories included in The Life I Had, which truth be told
is comprised of troubled working parts I abandon with great relief.

I once had a favorite book:
while it for so long encompassed the whole of me I no longer know
that it could anymore or which new story might. To simply listen
still robs the grit of lines embossed into a page; their shape it's like seeing is believing, just hearing isn't the same, how can you get lost in it if you can't see it. great line that has a feel of great loss.
and span and ink and even whether there was a serif made
the personality of each letter as they appeared
on a stage with curtains scalloped in the center. an excellent stanza. i like the play metaphor you have running through it.

I love painting but my vision burns the edges or middle off
details in the whole when I stand back to scrutinize. I cannot trust
my hands with the curves of a body or especially the fine grout in an eyelid.
I love walking but every proper or misstep fires from groin through thighs and
I love sleeping but do so now best in smaller increments during certain times and
I love swallowing and I love having an even pulse and I love
thinking outside the fog of frayed axons and I love
remembering and I love
I love I love
silver linings. I love knowing
why it is
I have become so very, very good at falling. it's rare to read so many loves that work in one poem. the last line poignant