Paperwhite (edit 1.2 - Sept 3, 2016)

[artjewl]

I offer edit 1.2 for critique. 

(I have also included edit 1.1 in which I tried to tie the "fabric of horizons" in better. However, I realized as I did that, I then had 3 "themes" going in this short piece: flowers, time, and fabric/textile. Edit 1.2 was my effort to reduce that to flora and time. I'll use the weaving/textile bits in another poem soon.)

J/9-3-16

Paperwhite (edit 1.2 - The Botanical Edit)

Baby's breath on my chest
rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo
the hush in the wake of a soul
plucked bare. Time does not

rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echoes
hours, days—fruiting trees
plucked bare. Time does not
care but creeps past the weeping.

Our days are fruits on trees.
Yesterday I buried my sons
and cares. I crept, past weeping,
as willows bowed in sighs.

Yesterday I buried my sons
under tiger lilies. But now I find,
willows bowed in sighs
of answered prayer, quiet

under tiger lilies. Now I find,
in the hush of a wakeful soul,
an answered prayer, quiet
as Baby's breath on my chest.


Paperwhite (v1.1 - The Fabric of Time Edit)

Baby's breath on my chest
rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo
the hush in the wake of a soul
worn bare. Time does not

rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echoes
hours, days—temporal weft and warp
worn bare. Time does not
care but weaving through tears.

Our days are weft through temporal warp.
Yesterday I buried my sons
and cares while weaving through tears
in the fabric of horizons.

Yesterday I buried my sons
under tiger lilies. But now I find,
in the fabric of horizons,
an answered prayer, quiet

under tiger lilies. Now I find,
in the hush of a wakeful soul,
an answered prayer, quiet
as Baby's breath on my chest.


Paperwhite

Baby's breath on my chest
rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo
the hush in the wake of a soul
stripped bare. Time does not

rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echos
hours, days, eternal moments
stripped bare. Time does not
care but dances through tears.

Our days are eternal moments.
Yesterday I buried my sons
and cares while dancing through tears
in the fabric of horizons.

Yesterday I buried my sons
under tigerlilies. But now I find,
in the fabric of horizons,
an answered prayer, quiet

under tigerlilies. Now I find,
in the hush of a wakeful soul,
an answered prayer, quiet
as Baby's breath on my chest.
[/quote]

[Leanne]

This is a very accomplished and beautiful piece of writing.  The repetition is subtle and evocative; the internal rhymes that weave through stitch this together very neatly.  There are a couple of places where it could be tighter but overall, it was a pleasure to read.

Paperwhite


Baby's breath on my chest
rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo
the hush in the wake of a soul
stripped bare. Time does not


rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echos -- *echoes, unless there's a different US spelling
hours, days, eternal moments
stripped bare. Time does not
care but dances through tears. -- dances just doesn't seem right to me.  It does offer a contrast, a light-hearted action for such a heavy subject.  It does work sound-wise though.  Not sure.  I think I'd prefer a more cynical word, like capers or something, to show that time really doesn't care at all for human misery.


Our days are eternal moments.
Yesterday I buried my sons
and cares while dancing through tears -- though after a couple of readings I realised you meant "sons and cares", the enjambment makes this ever so slightly too ambiguous from my perspective so it reads quite oddly
in the fabric of horizons. -- this image might be just a bit overblown.  There's no mention of anything fabric-related in your preceding metaphors so I think this might be a step too far.


Yesterday I buried my sons
under tigerlilies. But now I find, -- do you really need the but? Or if you want to keep the but, consider a comma instead of a full stop after tigerlilies.  Although that then runs the sentence on into another tigerlilies.  Something is just not right about this as a grammatical construct.  
in the fabric of horizons,
an answered prayer, quiet


under tigerlilies. Now I find,
in the hush of a wakeful soul,
an answered prayer, quiet
as Baby's breath on my chest. -- this capitalisation of Baby is a heartrending close

[CRNDLSM]

This is my kind of poetry, i wrote the whole thing out, love the pattern.  However, and Im sure you know this, the last block is backwards.  Except for the fact that it reads better, I want the fourth block to be backwards too and maybe even make the third block entirely out of pattern free standing.  Just because 

Paperwhite


11 Baby's breath on my chest           11
12 rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo   12
13 the hush in the wake of a soul     13
14 stripped bare. Time does not       14


21 rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echos 12
22 hours, days, eternal moments         22
23 stripped bare. Time does not          14
24 care but dances through tears.        24


31 Our days are eternal moments.        22 
32 Yesterday I buried my sons               32
33 and cares while dancing through tears  24
34 in the fabric of horizons.                  34


41 Yesterday I buried my sons           32
42 under tigerlilies. But now I find,    42
43 in the fabric of horizons,               34
44 an answered prayer, quiet              44


51 under tigerlilies. Now I find,           42
52 in the hush of a wakeful soul,          13
53 an answered prayer, quiet               44
54 as Baby's breath on my chest.          11   !!!!!    broke my brain

[just mercedes]

This is my kind of poetry, i wrote the whole thing out, love the pattern.  However, and Im sure you know this, the last block is backwards.  Except for the fact that it reads better, I want the fourth block to be backwards too and maybe even make the third block entirely out of pattern free standing.  Just because 

Paperwhite


11 Baby's breath on my chest           11
12 rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo   12
13 the hush in the wake of a soul     13
14 stripped bare. Time does not       14


21 rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echos 12
22 hours, days, eternal moments         22
23 stripped bare. Time does not          14
24 care but dances through tears.        24


31 Our days are eternal moments.        22 
32 Yesterday I buried my sons               32
33 and cares while dancing through tears  24
34 in the fabric of horizons.                  34


41 Yesterday I buried my sons           32
42 under tigerlilies. But now I find,    42
43 in the fabric of horizons,               34
44 an answered prayer, quiet              44


51 under tigerlilies. Now I find,           42
52 in the hush of a wakeful soul,          13
53 an answered prayer, quiet               44
54 as Baby's breath on my chest.          11   !!!!!    broke my brain

What are all those numbers?

[CRNDLSM]

This is my kind of poetry, i wrote the whole thing out, love the pattern.  However, and Im sure you know this, the last block is backwards.  Except for the fact that it reads better, I want the fourth block to be backwards too and maybe even make the third block entirely out of pattern free standing.  Just because 

Paperwhite


11 Baby's breath on my chest           11
12 rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo   12
13 the hush in the wake of a soul     13
14 stripped bare. Time does not       14


21 rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echos 12
22 hours, days, eternal moments         22
23 stripped bare. Time does not          14
24 care but dances through tears.        24


31 Our days are eternal moments.        22 
32 Yesterday I buried my sons               32
33 and cares while dancing through tears  24
34 in the fabric of horizons.                  34


41 Yesterday I buried my sons           32
42 under tigerlilies. But now I find,    42
43 in the fabric of horizons,               34
44 an answered prayer, quiet              44


51 under tigerlilies. Now I find,           42
52 in the hush of a wakeful soul,          13
53 an answered prayer, quiet               44
54 as Baby's breath on my chest.          11   !!!!!    broke my brain

What are all those numbers?

locations,  11 block one line one, 51 block 5 line 1, i really gotta work on my critiquing skills

[just mercedes]

This is my kind of poetry, i wrote the whole thing out, love the pattern.  However, and Im sure you know this, the last block is backwards.  Except for the fact that it reads better, I want the fourth block to be backwards too and maybe even make the third block entirely out of pattern free standing.  Just because 

What are all those numbers?

locations,  11 block one line one, 51 block 5 line 1, i really gotta work on my critiquing skills

This is a pantoum, isn't it? The numbers are unnecessary, surely? I've never seen anyone use them on poetry, but I've only been writing for ten years.

[Todd]

Hi, welcome to the site!

Lovely piece. There's a very soft, sad quality to it. Some comments below:

Paperwhite


Baby's breath on my chest--I love the dual use of baby's breath both as the ornamental flower and possibly the actual breath of an infant.
rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo--like the internal rhyme. Especially like that the echo is of a hush (silence).
the hush in the wake of a soul
stripped bare. Time does not--a lot in this sequence. The hush comes in the wake of an unnamed event. That the soul is stripped bare implies someone brought down to their foundation, some loss, or extreme event. I like the break here on Time does not because the speaker would like to freeze the moment, try to recover, get their bearings and they get to do that for a strophe break--time then keeps moving forward with all its consequences.


rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echos--(typo: echoes) The repetition keeps this moment folding in on itself. The speaker likely trapped and reliving the past
hours, days, eternal moments--This feels a little too general. It also feels like its moving in the wrong direction though that could simply be my read of it. I feel like I want it to move instead from larger periods of time to one specific period of time. I also am not sure about eternal moments. Eternity as a concept sort of sits outside of time, but my main issue is it seems too faux-poetic. 
stripped bare. Time does not--Repeating your previous break might be a nice choice to build on the parallel structure. Just a thought nothing more.
care but dances through tears.--dances seems an odd personification.


Our days are eternal moments.--I'd like something more concrete and decisive here, a stronger metaphor.
Yesterday I buried my sons--There is a part of me that would like to see this start a strophe with a strophe break before it. It would emphasize the shift better.
and cares while dancing through tears--dancing again doesn't feel quite right.
in the fabric of horizons.--I love this phrasing. I think something earlier to set it up more would give it a sense of payoff. I think of the fates and their cloth and their cutting. I don't know something tied in with time.


Yesterday I buried my sons
under tigerlilies. But now I find,
in the fabric of horizons,
an answered prayer, quiet-- The repetition and layering here really work for me.


under tigerlilies. Now I find, --Probably just a style choice but you may want to consider moving under tigerlilies up to end the strophe above
in the hush of a wakeful soul,
an answered prayer, quiet
as Baby's breath on my chest.--lovely ending. There's an emotional payoff here playing between the loss of buried sons and the dual implication of Baby's breath. Very good use of circling the ending to the beginning as if the speaker is trapped in this one moment.

I hope some of the comments will be helpful. I also realize some of them jack with the form a bit but I'm less concerned about the form and more concerned about the end result. Again, lovely work.

Best,

Todd

[CRNDLSM]

What are all those numbers?

locations,  11 block one line one, 51 block 5 line 1, i really gotta work on my critiquing skills

This is a pantoum, isn't it? The numbers are unnecessary, surely? I've never seen anyone use them on poetry, but I've only been writing for ten years.

probably unnecessary, i am novice, i also use numbers in everything somehow or other.  i just used them here to show my only issue with the poem, which must have been proper placement for pantoum.  i would break the rules for symmetry in this case

[artjewl]

Thank you all for the welcome... and for the fantastic feedback! My "real life" workshop groups are afraid of critiquing form poetry, and as just mercedes pointed out, yes, it's a pantoum. It's truly refreshing to have such thorough crits!  

You've addressed the spots I was unhappy with (dances, eternal moments, and fabric of horizons} and given me enough of a nudge that I think I can get out of that rut. I'll return with a rewrite shortly.

[nikkisto]

Paperwhite


Baby's breath on my chest
rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo
the hush in the wake of a soul                Beautiful line here the imagery grabbed me. 
stripped bare. Time does not                  The line end here, seems to pull me out of the read,
                                                    It makes me think format, not about the beautiful writing?

rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echos
hours, days, eternal moments
stripped bare. Time does not                  Later you talk of time as a fabric, would this maybe be a place to begin
care but dances through tears                 That idea, it seems to need more for me and you seem to be building here?


Our days are eternal moments.                Again here, I feel like this line fits better at the end of the last stanza,
Yesterday I buried my sons.                     And then you start with a strong, almost blow to the reader here.
and cares while dancing through tears
in the fabric of horizons.


Yesterday I buried my sons
under tigerlilies. But now I find,
in the fabric of horizons,
an answered prayer, quiet


under tigerlilies. Now I find,                    
in the hush of a wakeful soul,                  
an answered prayer, quiet
as Baby's breath on my chest.

Let me just say that there are some beautiful phrases here. I love the last stanza and the image that you paint with those words. Stylistically, the formatting and line breaks seem to take away from what is a lovely, melancholy poem. I am also very, very new to poetry technicalities and should not be taken completely seriously when it comes to the rules. "Now I find, in the hush of a wakeful soul..." So much beauty there that I want to see it stand on its own as the lead of that last stanza. It gets lost to me some times, the words when we jump line breaks and pull things here to there. Beautiful piece to start. Very well done!!

And then, I do my due diligence in reading more crits and see that, yes, I've missed a technical point. Do ignore my formatting nonsens talk. Hahaha. Beautifully started, awaiting the edits!

[artjewl]

Let me just say that there are some beautiful phrases here. I love the last stanza and the image that you paint with those words. Stylistically, the formatting and line breaks seem to take away from what is a lovely, melancholy poem. I am also very, very new to poetry technicalities and should not be taken completely seriously when it comes to the rules. "Now I find, in the hush of a wakeful soul..." So much beauty there that I want to see it stand on its own as the lead of that last stanza. It gets lost to me some times, the words when we jump line breaks and pull things here to there. Beautiful piece to start. Very well done!!

And then, I do my due diligence in reading more crits and see that, yes, I've missed a technical point. Do ignore my formatting nonsens talk. Hahaha. Beautifully started, awaiting the edits!

Thank you, nikkisto. But no, I will not ignore your "formatting nonsense talk." Nor do I consider it such. One of my goals of having this workshopped was to see if it stood even when the form wasn't recognized. I can't say I'll change line breaks to be inconsistent with the form, but it's definitely helpful to know how it the audience might read it. I might consider breaking stanzas differently though...

[Achebe]

hello artjewl - I loved the original and its subtle meanings, its delicate assonance. Not so much the edit. Some thoughts below.
I'll try and post something on why I liked the original so much, later on.
Thanks for posting.

hello artjewl - I don't hae

I offer edit 1.2 for critique. 

(I have also included edit 1.1 in which I tried to tie the "fabric of horizons" in better. However, I realized as I did that, I then had 3 "themes" going in this short piece: flowers, time, and fabric/textile. Edit 1.2 was my effort to reduce that to flora and time. I'll use the weaving/textile bits in another poem soon.)

J/9-3-16

Paperwhite (edit 1.2 - The Botanical Edit)

Baby's breath on my chest
rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo
the hush in the wake of a soul
plucked bare. Time does not ....I liked 'stripped' in the original version, because of the assonance with 'hush', 'stripped', and 'does'. You don't have too many 'p' sounds in the poem. 
rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echoes
hours, days—fruiting trees ...Other than 'bloom', there's nothing horticultural about the first part of the sentence, so the juxtaposition doesn't work for me.
plucked bare. Time does not
care but creeps past the weeping. ...'creeps past the weeping' - unless you're trying to get more 'p' sounds into the poem, I don't see why you should have them here. 'P' in itself is not a pleasant sound. I think you need to aim for softer 'L' and 'S' sounds in the poem, like you did in the original.

Our days are fruits on trees. ...Stating the metaphor blandly doesn't work for me
Yesterday I buried my sons
and cares. I crept, past weeping,
as willows bowed in sighs.

Yesterday I buried my sons
under tiger lilies. But now I find,
willows bowed in sighs
of answered prayer, quiet

under tiger lilies. Now I find,
in the hush of a wakeful soul,
an answered prayer, quiet
as Baby's breath on my chest.


Paperwhite (v1.1 - The Fabric of Time Edit)

Baby's breath on my chest
rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo
the hush in the wake of a soul
worn bare. Time does not

rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echoes
hours, days—temporal weft and warp
worn bare. Time does not
care but weaving through tears.

Our days are weft through temporal warp.
Yesterday I buried my sons
and cares while weaving through tears
in the fabric of horizons.

Yesterday I buried my sons
under tiger lilies. But now I find,
in the fabric of horizons,
an answered prayer, quiet

under tiger lilies. Now I find,
in the hush of a wakeful soul,
an answered prayer, quiet
as Baby's breath on my chest.


Paperwhite

Baby's breath on my chest
rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo
the hush in the wake of a soul
stripped bare. Time does not

rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echos
hours, days, eternal moments
stripped bare. Time does not
care but dances through tears.

Our days are eternal moments.
Yesterday I buried my sons
and cares while dancing through tears
in the fabric of horizons.

Yesterday I buried my sons
under tigerlilies. But now I find,
in the fabric of horizons,
an answered prayer, quiet

under tigerlilies. Now I find,
in the hush of a wakeful soul,
an answered prayer, quiet
as Baby's breath on my chest.

[/quote]

[just mercedes]

Hi, and welcome to the site. I'm sure I know you from somewhere ... You seem to be at ease with work shopping, which is great, and by your comments so far you're going to be a strength here.

I like the form you've chosen - fits the content well, the repeats give me sorrow, as it comes in waves. I like your delicate touch, evoking emotion without pathos.

My major advice is about the use of abstract nouns. In lots of places, you've used plants to show emotion, but in others you're
'telling' what you feel. I think, if you stick to images, your message is more effective. And affective too I guess.

This is a difficult form, and you're doing really well with it. I like the way you've subverted it here and there, to carry your message more clearly. Don't be afraid to do that some more, if it helps the poem.

And thanks for posting it. I look forward to reading another revision, if you keep going with it.



Paperwhite (edit 1.2 - The Botanical Edit)

Baby's breath on my chest
rests. The blooms rise, fall, echo
the hush in the wake of a soul        'soul' is too abstract - 'bud' or something else botanical might work better
plucked bare. Time does not           'time' is another abstraction - you've personified it, so why not say 'Trees do not...'

rest, but blooms, rises, falls, echoes
hours, days—fruiting trees              'fruiting trees / plucked bare is a great metaphor here
plucked bare. Time does not
care but creeps past the weeping.   

Our days are fruits on trees.             the verb 'to be' is very passive - even 'our days become ...' is more active
Yesterday I buried my sons               stark and carries a lot of weight
and cares. I crept, past weeping,       the syntax here gives me that your sons are buried, so now you have no cares
as willows bowed in sighs.                 willow is a good symbol of death and mourning, but 'bowed in sighs' doesn't work        
                                                      for me
Yesterday I buried my sons
under tiger lilies. But now I find,         'today' instead of 'But now' would link sonically (is that even a word?) to 'yesterday'
willows bowed in sighs
of answered prayer, quiet                 'sighs / of answered prayers' doesn't work for me

under tiger lilies. Now I find,              very tall tiger lilies, if the willows are under them
in the hush of a wakeful soul,
an answered prayer, quiet
as Baby's breath on my chest.            lovely, strong ending