Weight

[justcloudy]

Thanks rowens, ella and Todd
edit

Papa prayed for parted promise,
for jeans cuffs filled with dirt and fray,
for purple pockets filled with pebbles;
you remained absent every day.

Precious golden locks of hair
played out in memory,
Papa’s pain went undisguised.
It transformed him; misery.

Prayers rang from his great tongue
Full of tortured fury, wrath.
Wanting what'd be his in heaven
Hunger flaring, all he'd ask,

would be for painted poles and ribbons
ponies prancing on the lawn.
Not engraved for stone cold ages.
Not beckoning, "Move on."

______________________

For purple pockets filled with pebbles
with peat moss cross in pail of clay,
Papa prayed for parted promise,
received nothing every day.

Precious golden locks of hair
played out in memory,
Papa’s pain went undisguised.
It transformed him; misery.

Prayers rang from his great tongue
Full of tortured fury, wrath.
Wanting what'd be his in heaven
Hunger flaring, all he'd ask,

would be painted poles and ribbons
ponies prancing on the lawn.
Not engraved for stone cold ages.
Not beckoning, "Move on."

[rowens]

It's a hard thing to deal with; it does feel weighty, so the title makes sense. It's packed with stuff. The first stanza almost comes off as a Peter Piper kind of thing. And you keep the wording very tight but to the point of sounding harshly rigid.

[ellajam]

Hi, cloudy, I've been enjoying this one. I find the playfulness of the over-alliteration mixed with such a heavy subject interesting.

The first two lines, though they sound lovely, strike me as the only place words are used for their sound alone, the rest sang and wailed beautifully for me.

Thanks for the touching read.

For purple pockets filled with pebbles
with peat moss cross in pail of clay
Papa prayed for parted promise,
received nothing every day.

Precious golden locks of hair
played out in memory,
Papa’s pain went undisguised.
It transformed him; misery.

Prayers rang from his great tongue
Full of tortured fury, wrath.
Wanting what'd be his in heaven
Hunger flaring, all he'd ask,

would be painted poles and ribbons
ponies prancing on the lawn.
Not engraved for stone cold ages.
Not beckoning, "Move on."

[justcloudy]

rowens you've made a similar comment about a piece of mine before (http://www.pigpenpoetry.com/showthread.php?tid=10102). my first drafts are inevitably too wordy, then I leave them, clean them up, and put them here. generally speaking those ones are ok. but when I try from the get-go to keep it short people agree it sounds too abrupt. what to do. =/

ella, you're totally right about the first two lines. I'm stupidly attached to them because they popped into my unable-to-sleep-at-2am mind, and I turned on the light and the rest developed from there. but you're right, they don't really belong. I'll see what I can do.

thanks both. =]

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edit: rowens I'm trying to play with the terseness (that's a word?) but getting nowhere. however, ella, what do you think of the new second line?

[rowens]

I think it starts to come alive briefly with:

Wanting what'd be his in heaven
Hunger flaring, all he'd ask,

would be for painted poles and ribbons
ponies prancing on the lawn.


I added the 'for', but some might not think you need it. And what do you think about the punctuation in the poem?

---

I wrote that before you added to your reply.

---

The first stanza isn't very easy to follow.
Why do you say: For purple pockets filled with pebbles?

[justcloudy]

I think it starts to come alive briefly with:

Wanting what'd be his in heaven
Hunger flaring, all he'd ask,

would be for painted poles and ribbons
ponies prancing on the lawn.


I added the 'for', but some might not think you need it. And what do you think about the punctuation in the poem?

---

I wrote that before you added to your reply.

---

The first stanza isn't very easy to follow.
Why do you say: For purple pockets filled with pebbles?

Because she's his little girl, and he's praying for her to come back. She wore purple, was free enough to wander about, and she often pocketed pebbles. I want her to seem young... but I still pocket pretty pebbles, and you had to ask, so I guess it's not clear enough.

[ellajam]

I think it starts to come alive briefly with:

Wanting what'd be his in heaven
Hunger flaring, all he'd ask,

would be for painted poles and ribbons
ponies prancing on the lawn.


I added the 'for', but some might not think you need it. And what do you think about the punctuation in the poem?

---

I wrote that before you added to your reply.

---

The first stanza isn't very easy to follow.
Why do you say: For purple pockets filled with pebbles?

Because she's his little girl, and he's praying for her to come back. She wore purple, was free enough to wander about, and she often pocketed pebbles. I want her to seem young... but I still pocket pretty pebbles, and you had to ask, so I guess it's not clear enough.

Ah, now I get why the first two lines didn't fit, they weren't supposed to.
I kept trying to apply them to the man. I think whimsy was a good way to indicate her youth, I just didn't get it. Maybe it you put a word in there that clearly indicates childhood you could stick more with your original.

I don't know if the term is used anymore but pedal-pushers is a lovely p word, they were capri length pants for kids. I keep coming up with words from my childhood, maybe you can choose something from yours.

Even she or her would help.

Love this one.

[Todd]

One minor suggestion: What if you made line 3 line 1?

[justcloudy]

Lovely suggestion Todd, yes yes and yes.

Ella, pedal-pushers only brings up images of bikes for me! ;D But I like the suggestion, and I see where you got caught up trying to apply purple pockets to Papa. ;D

Thanks much all, quick edit to come.

[rowens]

Papa prayed for parted promise,
for jeans cuffs filled with dirt and fray,
for purple pockets filled with pebbles;
you remained absent every day.


I think it would help if you did more with the opening. The "parted promise" doesn't say much; but that's just me. Now the multiple fors could work, it depends on you though. Do you think it works? The "you remained absent every day" line seems kind of just added on. You can get more from this poem, but for now it just seems too hurried. Maybe the feelings behind it are what makes it rushed. But you can do more with it.

[justcloudy]

rowens:

Papa prayed for one-time promise,
pearly teeth and parted hair,
for purple pockets filled with pebbles;
a parted presence, faintly there.


colder? warmer?

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alternatively:

pig-tailed hair

but I kinda like parted parted since the meanings are different...

[Todd]

Line 4 feels like it wants to start with a "while"