Lunch With Father

[71degrees]

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father,
he talked of this and that, and everything,
and even when hearing nothing told me something.

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt,
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter,
he told me secrets—
how there is warmth under crusted snow;
how someone will always be waiting for me,
even the venders at a farmer’s market,
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor;
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness.

[Municipal Alchemist]

A few thoughts:

You end with a line about the speaker's sadness, but I didn't feel much sadness in the piece. Apart from the father's previous death, I see warmth under the snow as a metaphor for hope under sadness, but the rest feels more wistful and reflective than sad or depressed.

My favorite lines are when you mention food. I'd like to challenge you to really go after those images. Help use taste, smell, feel, experience the food.

I'd also challenge you to make the poem more dream-like, even slightly surreal if you're feeling brave!

I like the theme, it's very touching, and your poem makes me feel like the images are directly tied to the speaker's memories of their father. That could be another angle to explore.

[buildthestars]

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father, you want a period here instead of a comma
he talked of this and that, and everything, maybe spoke instead of talked?
and even when hearing nothing told me something. i don't really like this line, it doesn't evoke much.

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt, was sprinkled
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter, actually, i think you should just lose these two lines, they're irrelevant
he told me secrets—
how there is warmth under crusted snow; i like this
how someone will always be waiting for me,i love this line
even the venders at a farmer’s market,
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor;vendors* also, i think you focus on this too much
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness.not really fond of the ending of this

I like the idea, but I really think that you could make this more powerful by with stronger imagery and metaphors.

[Wjames]

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father,
he talked of this and that, and everything,
and even when hearing nothing told me something.  Should "hearing" be "saying"? You're describing what your father did in the second line, not you (he said, you heard). I rather like the line though.

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt,
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter, I would change the second "after" to "and", and maybe cut the "the" right after it.
he told me secrets—
how there is warmth under crusted snow;
how someone will always be waiting for me,
even the venders at a farmer’s market,
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor; I think you might want to add one more person waiting on you before the final lines. The end seems to come on abruptly.
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness. I don't like "my" here for some reason. I think it would be better as "our", or even just without "my"

Short and sweet, thanks for sharing.

[sawgr]

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father, I think that this gives too much away, what about eluding to him having passed away throughout, the poem and then coming out and saying it at the end.
he talked of this and that, and everything,
and even when hearing nothing told me something.

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt,
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter,
he told me secrets—
how there is warmth under crusted snow;
how someone will always be waiting for me,
even the venders at a farmer’s market,
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor;
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness.

I don't see this poem as sad, so much as longing, so I'm not too excited about the ending.

I think this piece has a lot of potential and I can almost feel the warmth under the crusted snow!

[Mr. Creosote]

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father,
he talked of this and that, and everything,
and even when hearing nothing told me something.

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt,
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter,
he told me secrets—
how there is warmth under crusted snow;
how someone will always be waiting for me,
even the venders at a farmer’s market,
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor;
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness.

I lost my father 9 years ago unexpectedly and I have had many talks of this kind with him since his death. I think you do a good job of making a dream conversation...it is not the conversation that you would have with your father if you were awake, correct?

I do think you could build on what I saw as a progression from disconnected images to concrete thoughts. I see you as slowly becoming more conscious (waking) by the end of the poem. I think you could strengthen this.

The hardest part of a dream about a person that you have lost is the waking realization that it was a dream and I think you capture that.

Anyhow, thanks for the great read

[FindingJune]

I really love that last stanza. It's authentic. I wish I had a suggestion how to bring the two together. I will mull over it for a bit.

[71degrees]

A few thoughts:

You end with a line about the speaker's sadness, but I didn't feel much sadness in the piece. Apart from the father's previous death, I see warmth under the snow as a metaphor for hope under sadness, but the rest feels more wistful and reflective than sad or depressed.

My favorite lines are when you mention food. I'd like to challenge you to really go after those images. Help use taste, smell, feel, experience the food.

I'd also challenge you to make the poem more dream-like, even slightly surreal if you're feeling brave!

I like the theme, it's very touching, and your poem makes me feel like the images are directly tied to the speaker's memories of their father. That could be another angle to explore.

Thanks for your thoughts. Glad you picked up on the food. Hence the title

---

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father, you want a period here instead of a comma
he talked of this and that, and everything, maybe spoke instead of talked?
and even when hearing nothing told me something. i don't really like this line, it doesn't evoke much.

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt, was sprinkled
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter, actually, i think you should just lose these two lines, they're irrelevant
he told me secrets—
how there is warmth under crusted snow; i like this
how someone will always be waiting for me,i love this line
even the venders at a farmer’s market,
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor;vendors* also, i think you focus on this too much
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness.not really fond of the ending of this

I like the idea, but I really think that you could make this more powerful by with stronger imagery and metaphors.

Okay. Thanks for all your thoughts but w/no reasons for any of them except "I think" it's hard to evaluate them on a poetical level.

---

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father,
he talked of this and that, and everything,
and even when hearing nothing told me something.

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt,
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter,
he told me secrets—
how there is warmth under crusted snow;
how someone will always be waiting for me,
even the venders at a farmer’s market,
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor;
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness.

I lost my father 9 years ago unexpectedly and I have had many talks of this kind with him since his death.  I think you do a good job of making a dream conversation...it is not the conversation that you would have with your father if you were awake, correct?  

I do think you could build on what I saw as a progression from disconnected images to concrete thoughts.  I see you as slowly becoming more conscious (waking) by the end of the poem.  I think you could strengthen this.

The hardest part of a dream about a person that you have lost is the waking realization that it was a dream and I think you capture that.

Anyhow, thanks for the great read

What you are saying here makes sense. Thank you for your time. Sorry I'm so late in returning the favor.

---

I really love that last stanza. It's authentic. I wish I had a suggestion how to bring the two together. I will mull over it for a bit.

Sorry I'm so late in responding back. Did you ever "mull it over?" Do appreciate your time here.

---

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father,   I also think a period would be better here.
he talked of this and that, and everything,
and even when hearing nothing told me something.   "Saying" would be better, I think

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt,
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter, How about "after the warm, buttered cornbread muffins," instead?
he told me secrets—
how there is warmth under crusted snow;
how someone will always be waiting for me,
even the venders at a farmer’s market,
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor;
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness.  I believe "even sadness" would be stronger for the reader to identify with.  Not just your sadness but their's also

Your simple but subtle changes I like. Thanks for offering them.

---

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father,
he talked of this and that, and everything,
and even when hearing nothing told me something.  Should "hearing" be "saying"? You're describing what your father did in the second line, not you (he said, you heard). I rather like the line though.

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt,
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter, I would change the second "after" to "and", and maybe cut the "the" right after it.
he told me secrets—
how there is warmth under crusted snow;
how someone will always be waiting for me,
even the venders at a farmer’s market,
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor; I think you might want to add one more person waiting on you before the final lines. The end seems to come on abruptly.
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness. I don't like "my" here for some reason. I think it would be better as "our", or even just without "my"

Short and sweet, thanks for sharing.

Your observations are warranted and noted. Thanks and sorry for being so long in reply.

[TheOnlyRedSmurf]

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father,
he talked of this and that, and everything,
and even when hearing nothing told me something.

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt,
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter,
he told me secrets— it is important that that line is short, gives it emphasis and punch
how there is warmth under crusted snow;
how someone will always be waiting for me,
even the venders at a farmer’s market, this is a nice visual with a physical to back it up
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor;
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness.I love the last two lines they sound so melancholy

not a lot to add to my comments the flow and tempo are ok, perhaps room for improvement?

[71degrees]

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father,
he talked of this and that, and everything,
and even when hearing nothing told me something.

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt,
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter,
he told me secrets—
how there is warmth under crusted snow;
how someone will always be waiting for me,
even the venders at a farmer’s market,
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor;
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness.

Edit

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father;
his talk of this and that and everything
told me little about what a son needs to hear

But after the potato soup sprinkled with salt
and the buttered cornbread, he remarked
he had recently met again the vender
from the farmer’s market on Barstow Street,
the woman in the straw hat who had sold us
clingstone peaches with all their promise of flavor
and how happy he was that she had brought him
some before moving on to meet her own daughter

He asked for a glass of milk and a brownie
and continued on about mother and Lisa,
how it could have been but wasn’t really,
and what seemed like a hundred other
dream moments, selecting only the ones
I wanted to hear about before I realized
he existed only as a fiber of something
much larger, something that spirals toward
a pinpoint of light off somewhere in the distance
to another lunch I will have with my sons,
a plate of fried pasta and how much more
I will say to them then than I say to them now

---

I dreamed I had lunch with my dead father,
he talked of this and that, and everything,
and even when hearing nothing told me something.

After the potato soup sprinkled with salt,
after the warm corn bread muffins with butter,
he told me secrets— it is important that that line is short, gives it emphasis and punch
how there is warmth under crusted snow;
how someone will always be waiting for me,
even the venders at a farmer’s market, this is a nice visual with a physical to back it up
the ones in straw hats who sell clingstone peaches
with all their promises of flavor;
but especially how the earth bears all things,
even my sadness.I love the last two lines they sound so melancholy

not a lot to add to my comments the flow and tempo are ok, perhaps room for improvement?

Redsmurf, Sorry didn't see your response until after I posted an edited version. Let me know what you think if you have time.