Montana

[Magnum]

Watching crows eat roadkill in Montana, my rifle slung across my shoulder,
early morning workers sweating, cursing, as they break apart a boulder
Ice cream truck stops by the roadside, driver shouting “come and get it”,
A lumbering moose the only taker, the angry driver shouts “forget it”.
The river overflows into the valley’s golden corn fields
The farmers lay large sand bags, they fear to loose their yields
Crop duster circles as the crows fly in pursuit
of falling butterflies and ladybugs who perched upon the fruit.
The poison claimed their short lived lives today
bees flee, birds panic, all escaping from the spray
The bobcat spies the moose, in all it’s forest glory
pouncing on its back it sinks its teeth, I cannot watch, too gory.
Thunder in the valley, rain falls ‘cross the land
a forest dweller begs for help, he needs a helping hand
“My daughter ran away without a word into the city,
I only ask for where to search, I do not ask for pity”.
"Dear man what can I say, I’m just a hunter, not raised in Hollywood,
where only bad girls find their way there", the old man understood
He slowly disappears beyond the trees, and softly moans,
The crows have finished with the roadkill and only left the bones.
And me, I think I’ll patch my jeans, and jump into the water
and climb into my pickup truck, go searching for his daughter
I hold a picture I was given, as he walked into the woods
I must admit she is a beauty, and has the proper goods
To drive this man to find her, before she disappears,
into the crowded city streets, that drive young girls to tears
The beauty of Montana, the forest and the farms,
will call me back I pray, with his daughter in my arms

[billy]

it reads like a story [prose] with rhyme. try and use some poetic devices, a few metaphors or simile , while there's some meter it doesn't carry the thing away from being prose. others may see at a poem but for me it's a struggle. on that basis it's a struggle to give any solid feedback

[kreichert]

I like the story aspect with the search for the missing daughter. What happens from this point on? What are you trying to say by relating this story? I find it very difficult to follow due to the constantly changing meter. I would work on consistent meter which will help improve the flow. Thanks for posting.

[Bunx]

Watching crows eat roadkill in Montana, my rifle slung across my shoulder,
early morning workers sweating, cursing, as they break apart a boulder
Ice cream truck stops by the roadside, driver shouting “come and get it”,
A lumbering moose the only taker, the angry driver shouts “forget it”.
The river overflows into the valley’s golden corn fields
The farmers lay large sand bags, they fear to loose their yields
Crop duster circles as the crows fly in pursuit
of falling butterflies and ladybugs who perched upon the fruit.
The poison claimed their short lived lives today
bees flee, birds panic, all escaping from the spray
The bobcat spies the moose, in all it’s forest glory
pouncing on its back it sinks its teeth, I cannot watch, too gory.
Thunder in the valley, rain falls ‘cross the land
a forest dweller begs for help, he needs a helping hand
“My daughter ran away without a word into the city,
I only ask for where to search, I do not ask for pity”.
"Dear man what can I say, I’m just a hunter, not raised in Hollywood,
where only bad girls find their way there", the old man understood
He slowly disappears beyond the trees, and softly moans,
The crows have finished with the roadkill and only left the bones.
And me, I think I’ll patch my jeans, and jump into the water
and climb into my pickup truck, go searching for his daughter
I hold a picture I was given, as he walked into the woods
I must admit she is a beauty, and has the proper goods
To drive this man to find her, before she disappears,
into the crowded city streets, that drive young girls to tears
The beauty of Montana, the forest and the farms,
will call me back I pray, with his daughter in my arms

Definitely took and interest in the poem because Montana is where I hail from. I like your the beginning of the poem setting the stage. I would give two suggestions first, I think your poem/pose has good flow and would be highlighted better if you broke your poem up into stanzas

ex:
Watching crows eat roadkill in Montana,
my rifle slung across my shoulder,
early morning workers sweating,

cursing, as they break apart a boulder



Ice cream truck stops by the roadside,

driver shouting “come and get it”,
A lumbering moose the only taker,
the angry driver shouts “forget it”.


In my opinion this helps the reader get the flow and rhythm of poem and breaks down rhyme and ideas.

My second suggestion would change corn to wheat fields. I have rarely seen corn grown in my area of the state but various forms of wheat and hops are around. I really enjoyed the story of the country boy going to Hollywood to rescue a lost lady as well as the imagery in the first half of the poem the moose reminded me of ice cream vendors at glacier park. Anyways good write!

---

i had some formatting issues what the stanzas ignore the random spacing

[alatos]

While you have rhyme, you don't really have a steady meter, so it comes off sounding like a children's story in that sense. There are lots of great articles out there on meter. And books if you're interested. I think "Rules for the Dance" by Mary Oliver is great - easy to understand and explained well. I'd suggest reworking this piece into something with some steady meter and then going from there!

[indarican]

I had issues with the flow of this piece, by the end it was more of a story then a poem.
I also felt like the rhymes were a bit forced.
also there were parts that seemed to be just thrown in thier I felt like i took away from the original story
Ex)
"And me, I think I’ll patch my jeans, and jump into the water
and climb into my pickup truck, go searching for his daughter"

[hopefularahant]

Watching crows eat roadkill in Montana, my rifle slung across my shoulder,
early morning workers sweating, cursing, as they break apart a boulder
Ice cream truck stops by the roadside, driver shouting “come and get it”,
A lumbering moose the only taker, the angry driver shouts “forget it”.
The river overflows into the valley’s golden corn fields
The farmers lay large sand bags, they fear to loose their yields
Crop duster circles as the crows fly in pursuit
of falling butterflies and ladybugs who perched upon the fruit.
The poison claimed their short lived lives today
bees flee, birds panic, all escaping from the spray
The bobcat spies the moose, in all it’s forest glory
pouncing on its back it sinks its teeth, I cannot watch, too gory.
Thunder in the valley, rain falls ‘cross the land
a forest dweller begs for help, he needs a helping hand
“My daughter ran away without a word into the city,
I only ask for where to search, I do not ask for pity”.
"Dear man what can I say, I’m just a hunter, not raised in Hollywood,
where only bad girls find their way there", the old man understood
He slowly disappears beyond the trees, and softly moans,
The crows have finished with the roadkill and only left the bones.
And me, I think I’ll patch my jeans, and jump into the water
and climb into my pickup truck, go searching for his daughter
I hold a picture I was given, as he walked into the woods
I must admit she is a beauty, and has the proper goods
To drive this man to find her, before she disappears,
into the crowded city streets, that drive young girls to tears
The beauty of Montana, the forest and the farms,
will call me back I pray, with his daughter in my arms

This poem is missing alot of potic stuffs. Like other comments said, the verses seem more like a story, or i thought, more like a song than anything else. Also, alot of the rhymes seem forced, and there seems to be no syllabic symmetry, or meter or anything governing the poem. The verses also seem far too long in generla, and the poem itself seems too long. Maybe try cutting loose alot of the extra words you have, like you have done with the last two lines.

[tectak]

Watching crows eat roadkill in Montana, my rifle slung across my shoulder,
early morning workers sweating, cursing, as they break apart a boulder
Ice cream truck stops by the roadside, driver shouting “come and get it”,
A lumbering moose the only taker, the angry driver shouts “forget it”.
The river overflows into the valley’s golden corn fields
The farmers lay large sand bags, they fear to loose their yields
Crop duster circles as the crows fly in pursuit
of falling butterflies and ladybugs who perched upon the fruit.
The poison claimed their short lived lives today
bees flee, birds panic, all escaping from the spray
The bobcat spies the moose, in all it’s forest glory
pouncing on its back it sinks its teeth, I cannot watch, too gory.
Thunder in the valley, rain falls ‘cross the land
a forest dweller begs for help, he needs a helping hand
“My daughter ran away without a word into the city,
I only ask for where to search, I do not ask for pity”.
"Dear man what can I say, I’m just a hunter, not raised in Hollywood,
where only bad girls find their way there", the old man understood
He slowly disappears beyond the trees, and softly moans,
The crows have finished with the roadkill and only left the bones.
And me, I think I’ll patch my jeans, and jump into the water
and climb into my pickup truck, go searching for his daughter
I hold a picture I was given, as he walked into the woods
I must admit she is a beauty, and has the proper goods
To drive this man to find her, before she disappears,
into the crowded city streets, that drive young girls to tears
The beauty of Montana, the forest and the farms,
will call me back I pray, with his daughter in my arms

Hi Montana,
I come late to this party and have sinned. I read the other crits. Please do not think less of me, but this is what you wrote. Spot the mistakes.

Watching crows eat roadkill in Montana, my rifle slung across my shoulder,early morning workers sweating,cursing, as they break apart a boulder Ice cream truck stops by the roadside, driver shouting “come and get it”, A lumbering moose the only taker, the angry driver shouts “forget it”. The river overflows into the valley’s golden corn fields The farmers lay large sand bags, they fear to loose their yields Crop duster circles as the crows fly in pursuit of falling butterflies and ladybugs who perched upon the fruit. The poison claimed their short lived lives today bees flee, birds panic, all escaping from the spray The bobcat spies the moose, in all it’s forest glory pouncing on its back it sinks its teeth, I cannot watch, too gory.Thunder in the valley, rain falls ‘cross the land a forest dweller begs for help, he needs a helping hand “My daughter ran away without a word into the city, I only ask for where to search, I do not ask for pity”. "Dear man what can I say, I’m just a hunter, not raised in Hollywood, where only bad girls find their way there", the old man understood He slowly disappears beyond the trees, and softly moans,The crows have finished with the roadkill and only left the bones. And me, I think I’ll patch my jeans, and jump into the water and climb into my pickup truck, go searching for his daughter I hold a picture I was given, as he walked into the woods I must admit she is a beauty, and has the proper goods To drive this man to find her, before she disappears, into the crowded city streets, that drive young girls to tears The beauty of Montana, the forest and the farms, will call me back I pray, with his daughter in my arms

Hmmm. Poetry has the SAME rules as any intelligible and correct piece of writing...grammar and syntax are important. That is all.
Best,
tectak