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revision 1
Her knuckles, aged and red
match her eyes under drooping lids.
She mutters under her blanket
and strokes what patches aren't worn down
as a mother coddles her newborn.
The threadbare fibers huddle together
straining against the jerky movements
that pull them from their roots
till they float away, small and broken.
original
The skin on her knuckles cracked red
matches her darting eyes,
as she mutters under her felt blanket.
It still has patches that aren't worn down
to threadbare strands huddled together
hanging on to their meaning of life.
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I make the inference that this woman is in an alleyway.
The word "meaning" in its function is odd to me. It stands out because it is the abstract, authorial word, that attitudinizes.
The anthropos in the blanket, "strands huddling together, hanging on to meaning" is juxtaposed with the woman. She is more or less human beside the activity and focus we have for the blanket. It reveals something.
The divided focus, woman as two things, or woman in blanket is problematic. It makes me feel uncomfortable.
I'm hung up on an internal response: A blankets thread does not hang on to the meaning of life. A woman does (but instinct by way of "means" may suffice).
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(12-16-2013, 10:43 PM)justcloudy Wrote: The skin on her knuckles cracked red
matches her darting eyes,
as she mutters under her felt blanket.
It still has patches that aren't worn down
to threadbare strands huddled together
hanging on to their meaning of life.
It's a nice sentiment, but it's a little wordy for what you are trying to portray. Her life is threadbare and the language should reflect this. The first two lines in particular get a little limericky with trisyllabic feet. I would try something like 'The cracked knuckles match/ her red eyes'. Then in the last line I strongly recommend not saying 'meaning of life.' Maybe: There are patches/ not threadbare, hanging/ to meaning. Try to take the basic shape of this and say this same thing using as few words as possible. See what you can find.
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Thank you both so much. I posted this prematurely, but pretty much on purpose, since I was a bit lost with it. Your comments really helped me move in a specific direction.
See what you think about the revision, and thanks again!
-justcloudy
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You might want to reconsider "darting eyes"
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Good advice. Done. Revision revised.
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It is easy to over ruminate on the intended effect/affect of a poem. Am I supposed to look for the why of the expression, what is the meaning, what is suggested. I try to make it more explicit to myself in other words.
There is the observation of a woman stroking a worn blanket in an alleyway. She is muttering. She probably falls under our category of 'homeless.' When I see such a woman I'm more curious about my and others reaction, judgment, impression.
The blanket seems metaphorical reflection insofar at it is enlivened with fibers holding together against the forces of fate and entropy. The blanket is enveloping shroud of the social. She is threadbare, but also possibly a disconnected thread in the network of life. She is not woven into the social, held together by an intelligible and supporting context.
Everywhere there are entropic forces pulling down our structures of support, meaning, comfort and control.
