Still/Shoveling

[ellajam]

Still/Shoveling

If I had my way I would not do my part,
I'd drink my fifth coffee and sit by the fire
but a heavy wet snow puts a strain on the heart
and I love my sweet guy and there's no one to hire.
I tug on my boots and start with the stair,
clear paths to the doors and the oil fill line.
I get flack for taking the blade to my car,
when I get to his truck he just says "Be kind."
No one's on the road, there's nowhere to go,
we stand on the swells the snowplow makes.
The quiet is luscious, white branches hang low,
I raise my flushed face to an onslaught of flakes.
Forced into the still of a sharp winter day
I'm grateful this morning to not get my way.


As always all crit welcome, those rhymes in the middle are all wanky. Flaunting of warm climates is mean but allowed.

[just mercedes]

My windows look into a sea-green wave
of trees, arrested by a close-cut lawn.
The neighbour’s vine escaped, and formed a cave
the gardeners have been chopping at since dawn.

Once prisoned there, the locquat stands undressed
and shrugs her rounded shoulders in the breeze
which plays along the mirror plants, the guest
of summer’s naked gaiety, at ease.

Such jungle-like profusion, cut away
makes three whole loads, along with trim and weeds,
reminds me how, on end-of-winter days
bikini-line attention intercedes;

we scrape or shave or wax or do all three -
because we’re frightened of maturity?

[ellajam]

My windows look into a sea-green wave
of trees, arrested by a close-cut lawn.
The neighbour’s vine escaped, and formed a cave
the gardeners have been chopping at since dawn.

Once prisoned there, the locquat stands undressed
and shrugs her rounded shoulders in the breeze
which plays along the mirror plants, the guest
of summer’s naked gaiety, at ease.

Such jungle-like profusion, cut away
makes three whole loads, along with trim and weeds,
reminds me how, on end-of-winter days
bikini-line attention intercedes;

we scrape or shave or wax or do all three -
because we’re frightened of maturity?

Lovely, with a great turn at the end.

[just mercedes]

Still/Shoveling

If I had my way I would not do my part,
I'd drink my fifth coffee and sit by the fire
but a heavy wet snow puts a strain on the heart
and I love my sweet guy and there's no one to hire.
I tug on my boots and start with the stair,
clear paths to the doors and the oil fill line.
I get flack for taking the blade to my car,
when I get to his truck he just says "Be kind."
No one's on the road, there's nowhere to go,
we stand on the swells the snowplow makes.
The quiet is luscious, white branches hang low,
I raise my flushed face to an onslaught of flakes.
Forced into the still of a sharp winter day
I'm grateful this morning to not get my way.


As always all crit welcome, those rhymes in the middle are all wanky. Flaunting of warm climates is mean but allowed.

I love "The quiet is luscious," made me taste a sound.

[Magpie]

Still/Shoveling


As always all crit welcome, those rhymes in the middle are all wanky. Flaunting of warm climates is mean but allowed.

Hi Ella, I'm commenting on your poem not so much as a critique but as as kind of practise critique because it is the type of poem that I would not feel comfortable critiquing in the workshop forums. I know that it's a sonnet, but that's about it, so as regards meter I'm a bit lost, but I also want to learn. So feel free to tell me if any of my suggestions are ridiculous as I expect they may be.

If I had my way I would not do my part,
I'd drink my fifth coffee and sit by the fire
but a heavy wet snow puts a strain on the heart 
and I love my sweet guy and there's no one to hire. - the two 'and' in here seem awkward although I can't think of any remedy at the moment
I tug on my boots and start with the stair, - in this line 'start' feels slightly awkward being quite close to the 'part' and 'heart' rhyme, but the only suggestion I have is 'and tackle the stair'
clear paths to the doors and the oil fill line.
I get flack for taking the blade to my car, - now this might be an accent thing or perhaps it is classed as an accepted rhyme but 'stair' and 'car' don't seem to work. I was thinking perhaps 'I get flack for wielding the blade without care' which seems to rhyme better for me and also the next line still has the same meaning 
when I get to his truck he just says "Be kind."
No one's on the road, there's nowhere to go,
we stand on the swells the snowplow makes. - I think I like your spelling of snowplow to the English version snow plough, but if anyone asks I never said anything of the sort.
The quiet is luscious, white branches hang low,
I raise my flushed face to an onslaught of flakes.
Forced into the still of a sharp winter day
I'm grateful this morning to not get my way.

And that's kind of all I have at the moment. Like I said some of my suggestions may be ridiculous because of some rule that I am unaware of regarding sonnets but if that is the case feel free to point out anything that I have made a blunder with. I've really enjoyed reading through your poem and I also agree about 'quiet is luscious', it does give quiet another sense in which to be enjoyed apart from just the sound, or lack of.

Thanks for the read,

Mark

[ellajam]

Still/Shoveling


As always all crit welcome, those rhymes in the middle are all wanky. Flaunting of warm climates is mean but allowed.

Hi Ella, I'm commenting on your poem not so much as a critique but as as kind of practise critique because it is the type of poem that I would not feel comfortable critiquing in the workshop forums. I know that it's a sonnet, but that's about it, so as regards meter I'm a bit lost, but I also want to learn. So feel free to tell me if any of my suggestions are ridiculous as I expect they may be.

If I had my way I would not do my part,
I'd drink my fifth coffee and sit by the fire
but a heavy wet snow puts a strain on the heart 
and I love my sweet guy and there's no one to hire. - the two 'and' in here seem awkward although I can't think of any remedy at the moment
I tug on my boots and start with the stair, - in this line 'start' feels slightly awkward being quite close to the 'part' and 'heart' rhyme, but the only suggestion I have is 'and tackle the stair'
clear paths to the doors and the oil fill line.
I get flack for taking the blade to my car, - now this might be an accent thing or perhaps it is classed as an accepted rhyme but 'stair' and 'car' don't seem to work. I was thinking perhaps 'I get flack for wielding the blade without care' which seems to rhyme better for me and also the next line still has the same meaning 
when I get to his truck he just says "Be kind."
No one's on the road, there's nowhere to go,
we stand on the swells the snowplow makes. - I think I like your spelling of snowplow to the English version snow plough, but if anyone asks I never said anything of the sort.
The quiet is luscious, white branches hang low,
I raise my flushed face to an onslaught of flakes.
Forced into the still of a sharp winter day
I'm grateful this morning to not get my way.

And that's kind of all I have at the moment. Like I said some of my suggestions may be ridiculous because of some rule that I am unaware of regarding sonnets but if that is the case feel free to point out anything that I have made a blunder with. I've really enjoyed reading through your poem and I also agree about 'quiet is luscious', it does give quiet another sense in which to be enjoyed apart from just the sound, or lack of.

Thanks for the read,

Mark

Hi, Mark, we'll learn together. My only experience with meter and form is in this last year on this site so I won't be so great on critiquing your critique, but IMO you did well.

First, I admit I did not pay strict attention to meter here, just went with consistant accents.

L4: Yes, the ands are bad but I enjoyed the singsong in my head. Good call.

L5: I didn't even notice a problem with "start", you have a valid point, and "tackle" is a good suggestion.

Stair/car is totally off, as is line/kind. I ran out of time, patience and brain power, it's all just wrong.

Thanks for the read and suggestions. You are welcome to critique any of my sonnet attempts wherever they are posted. If we disagree, chances are we'll both be wrong and we can hope for someone who knows better to come along.