My mothers death (edit 1 )

[R.C. KITCHENS]

edit 1[/b]
Waves roared upon the shoreline.
Gulls flew above in fluttering herd
and the wind, a faint whistle.
There was a sun shadowed
by clouds.
Strewn seashells and bodies lay.

She was young with sporadic freckling
her skin still smooth and sultry.
"what are we going to do?" Margie said
as she moved her hand into the wind,
her fingers reveling in the gust of
the air.

I contemplated what she had asked
As we walked while leaving footprints
in the sand.

I pulled my hands up and looked at them
There was blood underneath my fingernails.
We passed a sandcastle that she put her foot into.

The sand crumbled around and part
of it collapsed. It was warm and though
it was warm, you could feel a chill from
the wind.


She didn't know why we come here except
that we had to go somewhere.

Her innocence now broken with the stabbing.
She gingerly moved throughout the beach and
didn't appear to mind.

It wasn't her fault that mother began to punch
her in the face over chores that were not
finished.

I remember the screams they both made during
the scuffle. The hasty grabbing of
the knife and the first wound inflicted.

The bookcase was tipped over and the room
destroyed by the time they were through.
It was beautiful and a tragedy.

In the end, mother was stabbed ten times and
bled to death pleading for help.
I stood there in the frame of the doorway and
watched it all. I didn't lift a hand to stop it.
I watched Margie kill her.

The body was heavy, bleach on the floors, it
must all come out, the blood must be removed.
Lifeless she felt in the last few breath she
would take as I moved her in the hall to a sheet
that I would wrap her in for the last time.

Margie was calm for a murderer.
We disposed of the body in Atlantic Bay.
Throwing my mother over a bridge was
the last thing I wanted.
I believe Margie might have felt the same way
except she laughed when mother splashed into
the sea.



Original
It was the waves that roar upon the shoreline
The wind liken to a faint whistle
The gulls flew above in fluttering herd
There was a casting sun shadowed
by clouds
Strewn seashells and bodies lay

She was young with sporadic freckling
her skin still smooth and sultry
"what are we going to do?" Margie said
as she moved her hand into the wind,
her fingers reveling in the feeling of
the air.

I contemplated what she had asked
As we walked while leaving footprints
in the sand.

I pulled my hands up and looked at them
There was blood underneath.my fingernails.
We passed a sandcastle that she put her foot into.

The sand crumbled around and part
of it collapsed. It was warm yet chilly
and there was a great view of the coast.

She didn't know why we come here except
that we had to go somewhere.

Her innocence now broken with the stabbing
As she gingerly moved throughout the beach
she didn't appear to mind.

It wasn't her fault that mother began to punch
her in the face over chores that were not
finished.

I remember the details and the screams they both
made during the scuffle. The hasty grabbing of
the knife and the first wound inflicted.

It was beautiful and yet a tragedy. The bookcase
was tipped over and the room destroyed by the
time they were through.

In the end, mother was stabbed ten times and
bled to death pleading for help.
I stood there in the frame of the doorway and
watched it all. I didn't lift a hand to stop it.
I watched Margie kill her.

The body was heavy, bleach on the floors, it
must all come out, the blood must be removed.
Lifeless she felt even in the last few breathes she
would take as I moved her in the hall to a sheet
that I would wrap her in for the last time.

Margie was calm for a murderer. .
We disposed of the body in Atlantic Bay.
Throwing my mother over a bridge was
the last thing bad I wanted to ever do again.
I believe Margie might have felt the same way
except she laughed when mother splashed into
the sea.

I look at Margie and all I can feel are
the waves that roar upon the shoreline

[swan~dive]

I'm surprised that no one has critiqued this poem yet... I can only guess that maybe it's because of the tough subject matter? I would love to hear the origins of the story for this poem, but I completely understand if it is not something you wish to expound on. I'm actually not anywhere close to done critiquing this poem (I only got through the first stanza!), but my tendency to micro-focus and ramble on has meant that I have frittered away all of the time that I have at the moment on the first stanza, leaving the rest as yet untouched :-) so I hope it's all right that I post this for now and come back when I have the time to devote to the remainder of the poem (which I really enjoyed, by the way ;-) ). Thank you for posting this, and I hope my ramblings are helpful to you!

~Mary

It was the waves that roar upon the shoreline

this first line doesn't seem to agree with the following lines in this stanza in form. First, there is the word "It", which isn't clarified or followed up on; the reader is made to think the waves have *caused* something (it), but this is not continued in the following lines, which move to simply describing the events occurring on the beach, not putting the events in the framework of all of these things adding up to a cause, or at least adding to to a sum, as the first line would lead the reader to expect. This is further confused by the inclusion of the word "that" in the first line and not in the others, coupled with the fact that the verb in the first line ("roar") is present tense, but the verbs in the latter lines are past tense. The first line has the unique tense of looking back ("It was...") on something that was in the past, but referencing it in the present tense ("It was the waves that roar", rather than "roared"), that, while possibly accidental, gives me a nice sort of loaded sense of looking back on something that you experienced in the past, but that this something is continual, timeless, it still happens today, every day, even if you aren't around to be affected by it; I think using this form for this first stanza is a perfect match for your subject matter (the ocean, the tides, which are nothing if not constant and impervious to time), and I think it would really be worth continuing this same unique tense throughout the rest of the stanza.

If it read something like:

"It was the waves that roar upon the shoreline/the wind like a faint whistle/the gulls that fly above in fluttering herd/Under the casting sun shadowed by clouds/strewn seashells and bodies lay",

it would make the stanza much more cohesive in my opinion. You are looking back on the way things were at the ocean that day/summer/time in your life, but also alluding to the idea that they are still this way today, will never change... I hope I'm making some sort of sense to anyone but myself lol, this is only my second critique and I'm finding it difficult to express my more abstract thoughts. Alternatively, if you just don't like the idea of making it present tense throughout the stanza, I would strongly suggest changing "roar" to "roared", to keep it constant with the rest of the verbs.

Another small thing that I changed in my suggested version was I added the word "Under"; I feel that adding this word forges a connection between the line and both its preceding and following lines, rather than it being a line on its own, seemingly just thrown in there. It also gives a bit of ambiguity by allowing the reader to interpret it one of two ways or even both, depending on whether you capitalize "Under": 1. "The gulls that fly above in fluttering herd/under the casting sun shadowed by clouds" meaning the birds are flying under the sun, or 2. "Under the casting sun shadowed by clouds/strewn seashells and bodies lay" meaning the seashells and bodies lay under the sun (this meaning would/could be implied by capitalizing "Under" and uncapitalizing "strewn" to make the final two lines one complete thought. I like thinking of the "Under..." line being a connector for both lines, bringing them together into one world, the gulls and bodies and shells, under one sun... But that's just me ;-)

The wind liken to a faint whistle the phrase "liken to" seems a bit awkward, where "like a faint whistle" would work just fine and in my opinion sound more natural
The gulls flew above in fluttering herd
There was a casting sun shadowed
by clouds
Strewn seashells and bodies lay

She was young with sporadic freckling
her skin still smooth and sultry
"what are we going to do?" Margie said
as she moved her hand into the wind,
her fingers reveling in the feeling of
the air.

I contemplated what she had asked
As we walked while leaving footprints
in the sand.

I pulled my hands up and looked at them
There was blood underneath.my fingernails.
We passed a sandcastle that she put her foot into.

The sand crumbled around and part
of it collapsed. It was warm yet chilly
and there was a great view of the coast.

She didn't know why we come here except
that we had to go somewhere.

Her innocence now broken with the stabbing
As she gingerly moved throughout the beach
she didn't appear to mind.

It wasn't her fault that mother began to punch
her in the face over chores that were not
finished.

I remember the details and the screams they both
made during the scuffle. The hasty grabbing of
the knife and the first wound inflicted.

It was beautiful and yet a tragedy. The bookcase
was tipped over and the room destroyed by the
time they were through.

In the end, mother was stabbed ten times and
bled to death pleading for help.
I stood there in the frame of the doorway and
watched it all. I didn't lift a hand to stop it.
I watched Margie kill her.

The body was heavy, bleach on the floors, it
must all come out, the blood must be removed.
Lifeless she felt even in the last few breathes she
would take as I moved her in the hall to a sheet
that I would wrap her in for the last time.

Margie was calm for a murderer. .
We disposed of the body in Atlantic Bay.
Throwing my mother over a bridge was
the last thing bad I wanted to ever do again.
I believe Margie might have felt the same way
except she laughed when mother splashed into
the sea.

I look at Margie and all I can feel are
the waves that roar upon the shoreline

[swan~dive]

continuation of my critique :-) I added on to the part that I had already given my feedback for, and completed the rest of the poem...
~~
I'm surprised that no one has critiqued this poem yet... I can only guess that maybe it's because of the tough subject matter? I would love to hear the origins of the story for this poem, but I completely understand if it is not something you wish to expound on. I'm actually not anywhere close to done critiquing this poem (I only got through the first stanza!), but my tendency to micro-focus and ramble on has meant that I have frittered away all of the time that I have at the moment on the first stanza, leaving the rest as yet untouched :-) so I hope it's all right that I post this for now and come back when I have the time to devote to the remainder of the poem (which I really enjoyed, by the way ;-) ). Thank you for posting this, and I hope my ramblings are helpful to you!

~Mary

It was the waves that roar upon the shoreline
this first line doesn't seem to agree with the following lines in this stanza in form. First, there is the word "It", which isn't clarified or followed up on; the reader is made to think the waves have *caused* something (it) (either the act described in the poem or just something more abstract like a feeling, an atmosphere, etc.), but this is not continued in the following lines, which move to simply describing the events occurring on the beach, not putting the events in the framework of all of these things adding up to a cause, or at least adding to a sum, as the first line would lead the reader to expect. This is further confused by the inclusion of the word "that" in the first line and not in the others (there is a hard to explain but large difference between "the waves roar" and "the waves that roar"; for one thing, if you changed it to match the rest of the stanza to "the waves roar", then keeping the "it was" at the beginning of the line would no longer make any sense ("it was the waves roar"?).. This to me illustrates how the first line doesn't mesh with the others in form), coupled with the fact that the verb in the first line ("roar") is present tense, but the verbs in the latter lines are past tense. However, I don't think simply changing the verb in the first line to past tense in order to match the rest would be the best fix- the first line as it is now has the unique tense of looking back ("It was...") on something that was in the past, but referencing it in the present tense ("It was the waves that roar", rather than "roared"), that, while possibly accidental, gives me a nice sort of loaded sense of looking back on something that you experienced in the past, but that this something is continual, timeless, it still happens today, every day, even if you aren't around to be affected by it; I think using this form for this first stanza is a perfect match for your subject matter (the ocean, the tides, which are nothing if not constant and impervious to time), and I think it would really be worth continuing this same unique tense throughout the rest of the stanza.

If it read something like:

"It was the waves that roar upon the shoreline/the wind like a faint whistle/the gulls that fly above in fluttering herd/Under the casting sun shadowed by clouds/strewn seashells and bodies lay",

it would make the stanza much more cohesive in my opinion. You are looking back on the way things were at the ocean that day/summer/time in your life, but also alluding to the idea that they are still this way today, will never change... I hope I'm making some sort of sense to anyone but myself lol, this is only my second critique and I'm finding it difficult to express my more abstract thoughts. Alternatively, if you just don't like the idea of making it present tense throughout the stanza, I would strongly suggest changing "roar" to "roared", to keep it constant with the rest of the verbs.

Another small thing that I changed in my suggested version was I added the word "Under" to the "casting sun" line and took out the "there was a..." lead-in. I feel that adding this word forges a connection between the line and both its preceding and following lines, rather than it being just a line on its own, seemingly just thrown in there. It also gives a bit of ambiguity by allowing the reader to interpret it one of two ways or even both, depending on whether you capitalize "Under": 1. "The gulls that fly above in fluttering herd/under the casting sun shadowed by clouds" meaning the birds are flying under the sun, or 2. "Under the casting sun shadowed by clouds/strewn seashells and bodies lay" meaning the seashells and bodies lay under the sun (this meaning would/could be implied by capitalizing "Under" and uncapitalizing "strewn" to make the final two lines one complete thought. I personally like the ambiguity of thinking of the "Under..." line being a possible connector for both lines, bringing them together into one world, the gulls and bodies and shells, under one sun... But that's just me ;-) I like reading poetry that has just a dash of double meaning/meaning left open to interpretation thrown in... but not too much!

The wind liken to a faint whistle the phrase "liken to" seems a bit awkward, where "like a faint whistle" would work just fine and in my opinion sound more natural.

Ooh! I just thought of an alternate change to the one I suggested for this line: what about "It was the waves that roar upon the shoreline/the wind that like a faint whistle blows"... This possibly works to join the line to the rest of the stanza by adding a verb (to match the rest of the lines), as well as adding "the wind *that* like...", also matching to "the waves *that* roar" etc. This may be something you don't want to do, I can also see an argument for the simpler "the wind like a faint whistle", as it provides a counter to the form followed in the rest of the stanza. I also like the addition of "blows" though, as its something both a whistle and the wind do :-)
The gulls flew above in fluttering herd
There was a casting sun shadowed
by clouds
Strewn seashells and bodies lay

She was young with sporadic freckling
her skin still smooth and sultry I really like these two lines, they suggest that maybe life caught up to her after this incident, weathered and toughened her skin
"what are we going to do?" Margie said nitpick: should "what" be capitalized?
as she moved her hand into the wind,
her fingers reveling in the feeling of
the air. I feel like this line could use some additional description rather than just saying the "feeling" of the air. Maybe replacing "feeling" with a word or phrase describing what it actually feels like?

Oh and I agree with changing the tense fully to past tense, because from here on out you are describing the specific events from the past where in the first stanza you were relaying the near constant conditions of the shore, albeit framed within a specific time

I contemplated what she had asked
As we walked while leaving footprints
in the sand. I think removing "while" and instead inserting a comma after "walked" sounds less clunky, but it's a small point

I pulled my hands up and looked at them
There was blood underneath.my fingernails. Was the period after "underneath" a typo?
We passed a sandcastle that she put her foot into. I really like this line because you can't quite tell from the wording whether she did this intentionally or not ;-)

The sand crumbled around and part
of it collapsed. It was warm yet chilly why/how is it warm yet chilly? Perhaps explain that a bit more, or put it in less abstract terms such as something like "The warm air still chilled my bare arms/and there was a great view of the coast."? This connects the weather to you personally and offers a bit of detail as to how it can be warm yet chilly, and also maybe gives a vague hint of your internal distress; just an example
and there was a great view of the coast.

She didn't know why we come here except is "come" used as a colloquialism here, or is it meant to be "came"?
that we had to go somewhere.

Her innocence now broken with the stabbing
As she gingerly moved throughout the beach
she didn't appear to mind. I like the "she didn't appear to mind."

It wasn't her fault that mother began to punch
her in the face over chores that were not
finished.

I remember the details and the screams they both "details" here seems like a bit of a placeholder word, especially because you say "*and* the screams..." when the screams would *be* one of the details. I would consider replacing the word with an actual detail, like "I remember the hate, the screams they both/made during the scuffle." or somesuch.
made during the scuffle. The hasty grabbing of
the knife and the first wound inflicted.

It was beautiful and yet a tragedy. The bookcase consider removing "yet"? I like the sound of "It was beautiful and a tragedy."
was tipped over and the room destroyed by the
time they were through.

In the end, mother was stabbed ten times and
bled to death pleading for help.
I stood there in the frame of the doorway and
watched it all. I didn't lift a hand to stop it.
I watched Margie kill her.

The body was heavy, bleach on the floors, it
must all come out, the blood must be removed.
Lifeless she felt even in the last few breathes she "breaths" instead of "breathes"?
would take as I moved her in the hall to a sheet
that I would wrap her in for the last time.

Margie was calm for a murderer. .
We disposed of the body in Atlantic Bay.
Throwing my mother over a bridge was
the last thing bad I wanted to ever do again. maybe "bad thing" instead of "thing bad"?
I believe Margie might have felt the same way I feel like this should be "believed", past tense, or even better, changed to "thought"
except she laughed when mother splashed into
the sea.

I look at Margie and all I can feel are
the waves that roar upon the shoreline I think this sounds a little bit cutesy, too on the nose going back to the first line. I would like it much much better if it just ended with "I look at Margie and all I can feel are/the waves." Full stop. :-D

I'm really sorry this ended up being so long, I know this is in the mild critique forum but I'm kind of wordy lol, also I really enjoyed this poem and think it has a *ton* of potential, so I didn't want to half ass my critique :-) thanks again.

~Mary

[milo]

It was the waves that roar upon the shoreline
The wind liken to a faint whistle
The gulls flew above in fluttering herd
There was a casting sun shadowed
by clouds
Strewn seashells and bodies lay

She was young with sporadic freckling
her skin still smooth and sultry
"what are we going to do?" Margie said
as she moved her hand into the wind,
her fingers reveling in the feeling of
the air.

I contemplated what she had asked
As we walked while leaving footprints
in the sand.

I pulled my hands up and looked at them
There was blood underneath.my fingernails.
We passed a sandcastle that she put her foot into.

The sand crumbled around and part
of it collapsed. It was warm yet chilly
and there was a great view of the coast.

She didn't know why we come here except
that we had to go somewhere.

Her innocence now broken with the stabbing
As she gingerly moved throughout the beach
she didn't appear to mind.

It wasn't her fault that mother began to punch
her in the face over chores that were not
finished.

I remember the details and the screams they both
made during the scuffle. The hasty grabbing of
the knife and the first wound inflicted.

It was beautiful and yet a tragedy. The bookcase
was tipped over and the room destroyed by the
time they were through.

In the end, mother was stabbed ten times and
bled to death pleading for help.
I stood there in the frame of the doorway and
watched it all. I didn't lift a hand to stop it.
I watched Margie kill her.

The body was heavy, bleach on the floors, it
must all come out, the blood must be removed.
Lifeless she felt even in the last few breathes she
would take as I moved her in the hall to a sheet
that I would wrap her in for the last time.

Margie was calm for a murderer. .
We disposed of the body in Atlantic Bay.
Throwing my mother over a bridge was
the last thing bad I wanted to ever do again.
I believe Margie might have felt the same way
except she laughed when mother splashed into
the sea.

I look at Margie and all I can feel are
the waves that roar upon the shoreline

The wind liken to a faint whistle

maybe :

The wind, lichen too, a faint whistle . . .

it can be like a list of things you might run into at the beach.

[Brownlie]

I'm going to try to cut some of your lines and fix a few things here. You might still like it the way you had it before.

waves roared upon the shoreline
Wind faintly whistled
gulls flew above in flocks
a casting sun shadowed
clouds
Strewn seashells and bodies lay

She was young with sporadic freckling
her skin still smooth and sultry
"what are we going to do?" Margie said
as she moved her hand into the wind,
her fingers reveling in the feeling of
the air.

I contemplated what she had asked
As we walked while leaving footprints
in the sand.

I pulled my hands up and looked at them
There was blood underneath.my fingernails.
We passed a sandcastle that she put her foot into. -- Some solid imagery here

The sand crumbled around and part
of it collapsed. It was warm yet chilly
and there was a great view of the coast. --- More good stuff in this stanza

She didn't know why we came there except
that we had to go somewhere.

She had just stabbed her mother, and yet
she gingerly moved throughout the beach
Seeming not to care.

It wasn't her fault that mother began to punch
her in the face over chores that were not
finished. -- Wow man

I remember the details and the screams they both
made during the scuffle. The hasty grabbing of
the knife and the first wound inflicted.

It was beautiful and tragic. The bookcase
was tipped over and the room destroyed by the
time they were through.

In the end, mother was stabbed ten times and
bled to death pleading for help.
I stood there in the frame of the doorway and
watched it all. I didn't lift a hand to stop it.
I watched Margie kill her.

The body was heavy, I used bleach on the floors, and thought, "it
must all come out, the blood must be removed." - not sure if you quote thoughts but I think you do.

she felt lifeless even in the last few breathes she
would take as I moved her in the hall to a sheet
that I would wrap her in for the last time.

Margie was calm for a murderer. .
We disposed of the body in the Atlantic Bay.
Throwing my mother over a bridge was
the last thing bad I wanted to ever do again.
I believe Margie might have felt the same way
except she laughed when mother splashed into
the sea.

I look at Margie and all I can feel are
the waves that roar upon the shoreline

Your syntax is awkward at times but you've got a story here. I tried to clean up some of your syntax and cut some superfluous language but I didn't want to do too much and take away what you were trying to convey. Good luck.

[R.C. KITCHENS]

Brownlie, milo thank for the critique and advice. I just removed "liken". Swan dive or Mary, thank you for the extensive critique. It is well received and I made some changes using some points you made. Sincerely appreciate the feedback.

[Bunx]

edit 1[/b]
Waves roared upon the shoreline.
Gulls flew above in fluttering herd
and the wind, a faint whistle. good foretelling of the chain reaction a death can have on a community
There was a sun shadowed
by clouds.
Strewn seashells and bodies lay.What kind of bodies?

She was young with sporadic freckling
her skin still smooth and sultry.
"what are we going to do?" Margie said
as she moved her hand into the wind,
her fingers reveling in the gust of
the air.this is the time where i said use adjectives like *fair* *stirring*

I contemplated what she had asked
As we walked while leaving footprints
in the sand.

I pulled my hands up and looked at them
There was blood underneath my fingernails.
We passed a sandcastle that she put her foot into.

The sand crumbled around and part
of it collapsed. It was warm and though
it was warm, you could feel a chill from
the wind.


She didn't know why we come here except
that we had to go somewhere.this line i feel is the turning point of the poem, i find myself curious to the where. did you foreshadow this with the "sandy castle"

Her innocence now broken with the stabbing.
She gingerly moved throughout the beach and
didn't appear to mind.

It wasn't her fault that mother began to punch
her in the face over chores that were not
finished.

I remember the screams they both made during
the scuffle. The hasty grabbing of
the knife and the first wound inflicted.

The bookcase was tipped over and the room
destroyed by the time they were through.
It was beautiful and a tragedy.glorious symbolism i was use the adjective burning before bookcase. or bountiful

In the end, mother was stabbed ten times and
bled to death pleading for help.
I stood there in the frame of the doorway and
watched it all. I didn't lift a hand to stop it.
I watched Margie kill her.

The body was heavy, bleach on the floors, it
must all come out, the blood must be removed.
Lifeless she felt in the last few breath she
would take as I moved her in the hall to a sheet
that I would wrap her in for the last time.

Margie was calm for a murderer.
We disposed of the body in Atlantic Bay.
Throwing my mother over a bridge was
the last thing I wanted.
I believe Margie might have felt the same way
except she laughed when mother splashed into
the sea.

RC, this poem is a pose story that is tragic, but amazing crafted and built together. I feel as if i could see the murder happen before my eyes and the symbolic events that took place during that time. thanks for sharing rc[b]

Original
It was the waves that roar upon the shoreline
The wind liken to a faint whistle
The gulls flew above in fluttering herd
There was a casting sun shadowed
by clouds
Strewn seashells and bodies lay

She was young with sporadic freckling
her skin still smooth and sultry
"what are we going to do?" Margie said
as she moved her hand into the wind,
her fingers reveling in the feeling of
the air.

I contemplated what she had asked
As we walked while leaving footprints
in the sand.

I pulled my hands up and looked at them
There was blood underneath.my fingernails.
We passed a sandcastle that she put her foot into.

The sand crumbled around and part
of it collapsed. It was warm yet chilly
and there was a great view of the coast.

She didn't know why we come here except
that we had to go somewhere.

Her innocence now broken with the stabbing
As she gingerly moved throughout the beach
she didn't appear to mind.

It wasn't her fault that mother began to punch
her in the face over chores that were not
finished.

I remember the details and the screams they both
made during the scuffle. The hasty grabbing of
the knife and the first wound inflicted.

It was beautiful and yet a tragedy. The bookcase
was tipped over and the room destroyed by the
time they were through.

In the end, mother was stabbed ten times and
bled to death pleading for help.
I stood there in the frame of the doorway and
watched it all. I didn't lift a hand to stop it.
I watched Margie kill her.

The body was heavy, bleach on the floors, it
must all come out, the blood must be removed.
Lifeless she felt even in the last few breathes she
would take as I moved her in the hall to a sheet
that I would wrap her in for the last time.

Margie was calm for a murderer. .
We disposed of the body in Atlantic Bay.
Throwing my mother over a bridge was
the last thing bad I wanted to ever do again.
I believe Margie might have felt the same way
except she laughed when mother splashed into
the sea.

I look at Margie and all I can feel are
the waves that roar upon the shoreline