Missing Woman

[billy]

hi chris
the problem i'm having with it is that it feels jerky when i read it. it doesn't read as free verse to me (okay, some does some doesn't) but it's more like free verse, if the latter i'd use a less structured form. if you want meter then you need to do a fair bit of work as some of the lines feel as though you stop short. i'm not sure why but the poem feels as though it needs to have a solid meter. as it is, it has a syllabic constant of 10 (apart from the first line) but it doesn't seem to be working as well as should, i suggest getting someone to read it out load to you to see if it help you with the rhythm. the poem feels very wordy and though it has some images, most are not strong enough and verge on tell.
the idea is fine but the execution feels weak.

thanks for the read.

version 2.0

I can't hear your music, while driving my car, is the comma after music needed? is there an extra half foot? the line works on two levels (her music being her voice as well as her music) a suggestion would be [I miss your music while driving my car,]
no ballads or Mozart, just metal roar. just metal roar feels forced. a suggestion would be[no ballads or Mozart, cover the roar]
Fresh alpine scents are former memories;
your bears, that dwelt on my dashboard, are gone. i like this line because it's a personal image.

I don’t hear the rhythm of your high heels,
my majorette's march across hardwood floor.
There’s no trace of makeup on my lapels
and your stray blonde hair's are not on my suit.

I long for our silly wrestling matches
for dominion of the remote control;
then there’s our bedcovers great tug-of-war,
with you triumphant in your sea of sheets.

Your nylon stocking festoons have vanished,
but a mildewed shower curtain remains.
Sweet songs don't sing from the harsh sprays within
and the tile floor craves your lingerie’s touch.

I have yearned and prayed, then dreamt that I might
gaze at you shaving your legs one more time.
My mirror’s dim, the silver’s oxidized;
I shall never see you dance there again.

Today I'll bring you your beloved mums
and I’ve written a new poem to read.
I hope you hear me when I speak to you
and feel the warmth of my hand on your stone. this last stanza is novice poetry, it's wordy, it says little and it doesn't capture the reader. remember this is the pay off of the poem, 2nd in importance to the 1st stanza.

tru edit version 2.0

This was a challenge from my wife to write something more emotinally charged