Hail Marie vers. 2 mercedes

[tectak]

Marie died a week ago.
I can't let go.I can't let go.
I loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday.Like yesterday.
I touched her hand and stroked her brow.
A memory now. A memory now.
We said goodbye, we cried for you.
Friends loved you, too, they loved you, too.
Alone now with your photograph.
I hear you laugh. I hear you laugh.
To sleep I hold your pillow tight.
Alone at  night. Alone at  night.
In chill dawn air I make  believe.
I hear you breathe. I hear you breathe.
I doze beside you in the shade .
A dream we made. A dream we made.

Marie died a week ago
but still I see her hair of grey,
and touch her hand and stroke her brow.
Her photograph is on the bed
propped on her pillow by my head.
I cried last night for me, not her.
In every moment she is there.
In dreams you sigh, "Remember me".
I do, I do, my Hail Marie.
tectak 2015

Original
Mary died a week ago.
I can't let go.I can't let go.
I loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday.Like yesterday.
I touched her hand and stroked her brow.
A memory now. A memory now.
We said goodbye and cried for you.
Friends loved you, too, they loved you, too.
Alone now with your photograph.
I hear you laugh. I hear you laugh.
I sleep and hold the pillow tight.
Alone at  night. Alone at  night.
In chill dawn air I make  believe.
I hear you breathe. I hear you breathe.
I doze beside you in the shade .
A dream we made. A dream we made.
Mary died a week ago
but still I see her hair of grey,
and touch her hand
and stroke her brow.
Her photograph is on the bed
propped on her pillow by my head.
How I cried last night for her
yet in each moment she is there.
A dream we made. Remember me.
And I do, my Hail Mary.
tectak 2015

[Erthona]

Tom,

I don't really have a "serious" poems amount of critique for this, but I shall endeavor.
Certainly it has improved from the original posting. Observations as I bounce around.
_______________________________________________________________________
"In chill dawn air I make believe."

Usually the aggrieved actually hears these things, they do not have to "make believe".
_________________________________________________________________________
The repetitiveness and singsong lines makes this border on the comedic, probably only not going there for me because I was forewarned about the nature of the poem. Had I come upon the poem fresh, by an unknown writer, I think I would have read the first part as humor, as there seems hardly any other way to read it considering the form.
_________________________________________________________
Although I understand the connection, it is so tenuous, the following seems like a forced rhyme.

"I loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday.Like yesterday."
________________________________________

The second line does not read as iambic, but as trochaic, at least to me. Personal I like the reversal, it creates a more complex line. Simply drop the first "too". Your poem.

"We said goodbye, we cried for you.
Friends loved you, too, they loved you, too."
_____________________________________
This line is somewhat confusing. Would it not be so whether or not the person was dead or alive?

"I touched her hand and stroked her brow.
A memory now. A memory now."
______________________________________________

"Hail Marie" Seems a bit over the top, in that vein might as well go for "Ave Marie"
__________________________________________________

Dale

[tectak]

Tom,

I don't really have a "serious" poems amount of critique for this, but I shall endeavor.
Certainly it has improved from the original posting. Observations as I bounce around.
_______________________________________________________________________
"In chill dawn air I make believe."

Usually the aggrieved actually hears these things, they do not have to "make believe".
_________________________________________________________________________
The repetitiveness and singsong lines makes this border on the comedic, probably only not going there for me because I was forewarned about the nature of the poem. Had I come upon the poem fresh, by an unknown writer, I think I would have read the first part as humor, as there seems hardly any other way to read it considering the form.
_________________________________________________________
Although I understand the connection, it is so tenuous, the following seems like a forced rhyme.

"I loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday.Like yesterday."
________________________________________

The second line does not read as iambic, but as trochaic, at least to me. Personal I like the reversal, it creates a more complex line. Simply drop the first "too". Your poem.  

"We said goodbye, we cried for you.
Friends loved you, too, they loved you, too."
_____________________________________
This line is somewhat confusing. Would it not be so whether or not the person was dead or alive?

"I touched her hand and stroked her brow.
A memory now. A memory now."
______________________________________________

"Hail Marie" Seems a bit over the top, in that vein might as well go for "Ave Marie"
__________________________________________________

Dale

Hmmm. I could, in one bound, escape by saying I have no serious counter to your non-serious crit. However, you make light of my serious intent and for that a gauntlet falls
I cannot retract the intent and do not wish to. There is a serious point to this which is  not in the contrived poetic-ness of the piece...rather it is in the attempt to convey complexity by a simple codex. The emotional response to post-death trauma when described is usually genuine empathy from those who are by circumstance (recent or otherwise) genuinely empathetic or imagined empathy from those philosophical enough to imagine it will happen to them one day.
There's the rub...is it poetry or is it pensive perambulation?
The only reason for bringing the seperate cameos in to this piece is that I have first person experience of third person reactions to grief...so that about covers everybody (unfortunate terminology).
The last Hail Marie is silly but so is all religious hijacking of emotion...but that is to minimise the comfort faith delivers. So I left it in.
The switch from you to her to you to her is deliberate. I have listened to the grieving talking like this. It is as if personal feelings of deep love need the back up of others to give credence. (I loved him/her you know....every body loved him/her...so it is alright to say so; and when alone I tell him/her, "I love you").
The picture on the pillow is more extreme than I wanted, but less extreme than Norman Bates would have considered reasonable.
So was it that hard to understand?
Best and thanks,
tectak

[Erthona]

Tom,

Well thank you for your answers to so many questions and I must say you answered them quite well. The only unfortunate thing is that few have little to do with any of the problems I brought up. I'm sure you weren't, but at one point it seemed as if you almost were suggesting that empathy should soften the critique; something I am sure that you would never adhere to nor try to impose on your good friend and sty mate, neither to use as a way to disparage or impugn his character as being less than savory, which we of course we already know is the truth.

dale

[RiverNotch]

Marie died a week ago. How do you read "Marie"? "Ma-ree" or "Ma-ri-yey"? I think three syllables would work better for this (Maria...).
I can't let go. I can't let go.
I loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday. Like yesterday.
I touched her hand and stroked her brow.
A memory now. A memory now.
We said goodbye, we cried for you.
Friends loved you, too, they loved you, too. "FRIENDS LOVED you, too" is a mouthful compared to the other lines (a MEM'ry now, like YESterday, i CAN'T let go) Maybe remove these two lines, too? Everything else involves only one mourner -- it'll definitely strengthen the lonely feeling of the mourner.
Alone now with your photograph. Maybe a comma, instead?
I hear you laugh. I hear you laugh.
To sleep I hold your pillow tight. Maybe a comma, instead?
Alone at night. Alone at night.
In chill dawn air I make believe. Maybe a colon, instead?
I hear you breathe. I hear you breathe.
I doze beside you in the shade .
A dream we made. A dream we made. Maybe commas between "dream" and "we"?


This ending feels superfluous, like an attempt to infuse some deeper insight into a poem that seemed to focus more on the emotions of the speaker than meat. I'd just end it with a full circle, with the first two lines capping the whole thing, fulfilling how the speaker's grief, in this poem, started out in Marie's old age, then ended with the dawn of a new day -- besides, the following is basically a different and longer stating of those two lines.


The repetition is pretty neat, though. Drives in the obsession of the speaker for Marie real hard. A bit comic, yes, but only in the sense of being a bit too, er, sentimental or obsessive(kinda like one of them old tragedy ballads or a villanelle or something). Thanks for the read!
Marie died a week ago
but still I see her hair of grey,
and touch her hand and stroke her brow.
Her photograph is on the bed
propped on her pillow by my head.
I cried last night for me, not her.
In every moment she is there.
In dreams you sigh, "Remember me".
I do, I do, my Hail Marie.
tectak 2015

[tectak]

Tom,

Well thank you for your answers to so many questions and I must say you answered them quite well. The only unfortunate thing is that few have little to do with any of the problems I brought up. I'm sure you weren't, but at one point it seemed as if you almost were suggesting that empathy should soften the critique; something I am sure that you would never adhere to nor try to impose on your good friend and sty mate, neither to use as a way to disparage or impugn his character as being less than savory, which we of course we already know is the truth.

dale

Hi dale,
been 'orf again to Shibden Mill Inn near Halifax. Great fun.
Re.above. You only asked one question so you got a great deal. (two meanings, of course...what else would you expect from me?)
Same alive or dead? I guess, yes. Sorry, I miss the point and it's my fault. The guy could be stroking the photograph...all photographs are memories whether the subject is alive or dead.
This piece needs looking at again and if possible simplifying even more. The repetitions are a cop out..once again, it is observed behaviour in the grieving and a precursor to the poem I never wrote called The Irrationality of Grief. I may write it yet as I accumulate more and more irrationalties.
No to the empathetic softening of crit...once again, and they are your words (or will be) , never combine character and author when critting; that would be to confuse crit with credence. I never believe what I write but the character often seems to.
Best,
your reciprocally fictional friend (see what I mean?),
tectak

---

Marie died a week ago. How do you read "Marie"? "Ma-ree" or "Ma-ri-yey"? I think three syllables would work better for this (Maria...).
I can't let go. I can't let go.
I loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday. Like yesterday.
I touched her hand and stroked her brow.
A memory now. A memory now.
We said goodbye, we cried for you.
Friends loved you, too, they loved you, too. "FRIENDS LOVED you, too" is a mouthful compared to the other lines (a MEM'ry now, like YESterday, i CAN'T let go) Maybe remove these two lines, too? Everything else involves only one mourner -- it'll definitely strengthen the lonely feeling of the mourner.
Alone now with your photograph. Maybe a comma, instead?
I hear you laugh. I hear you laugh.
To sleep I hold your pillow tight. Maybe a comma, instead?
Alone at night. Alone at night.
In chill dawn air I make believe. Maybe a colon, instead?
I hear you breathe. I hear you breathe.
I doze beside you in the shade .
A dream we made. A dream we made. Maybe commas between "dream" and "we"?


This ending feels superfluous, like an attempt to infuse some deeper insight into a poem that seemed to focus more on the emotions of the speaker than meat. I'd just end it with a full circle, with the first two lines capping the whole thing, fulfilling how the speaker's grief, in this poem, started out in Marie's old age, then ended with the dawn of a new day -- besides, the following is basically a different and longer stating of those two lines.


The repetition is pretty neat, though. Drives in the obsession of the speaker for Marie real hard. A bit comic, yes, but only in the sense of being a bit too, er, sentimental or obsessive(kinda like one of them old tragedy ballads or a villanelle or something). Thanks for the read!
Marie died a week ago
but still I see her hair of grey,
and touch her hand and stroke her brow.
Her photograph is on the bed
propped on her pillow by my head.
I cried last night for me, not her.
In every moment she is there.
In dreams you sigh, "Remember me".
I do, I do, my Hail Marie.
tectak 2015

Hi river,
I may well stylise this piece with all your comma suggestions. It was not a Damascus moment when I realised that the repetition reward was counter productive. I think there is more economy in your way.
Why Marie? Expediency. It rhymes with "me" last lines.
I am not sure yet about the cheap Hail Marie. I once felt that a worshipful wordiness pervaded this poem...I am no longer sure.
What I am after is simplicity of surface intent but deep waters beneath.
Fail. Perhaps it is not possible.
Best,
tectak

[Grace]

Hi Tectak

I thought I'd give you some feedback from the perspective of one who finds herself thrust into the unwelcome role of "griever". I read your poem before and after I got the news of the death of a close friend.

Quite honestly, now I read it and the last line is the most important. Hail Mary. It kind of assigns a reverence to the person you've lost; the fragrance they've left behind is like incense.

The lines:
loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday.Like yesterday.

The one I lost was 29, yet I loved her when her hair turned grey.
Like yesterday. Like yesterday.

Tense shifting is spot on. As is the switching between her and you. The only salve for the shocking wound of the present is to grab her from the past and talk to her/about her/to her.

Simplicity and repetition are vital to this piece, as is a certain "raggedness". Is grief tidy? I think not.

I prefer the original version, as is, without the break. Perhaps you could have two versions...?

Just some thoughts here! G. :-)

[Mark101]

Hi Tectak,

Let me start by saying that I like your piece. It's a very poignant and emotive look at grief and bereavement. It's also very hard to find anything that hasn't already been mentioned by others, but..........

I agree that 3 syllables would be better for the opening line and if the name can't be changed, then maybe consider something like "Marie just died, a week ago". It gives you the extra syllable since I'm sure Marie would not want to be remembered as Maria or anyone else.

Then we come to the repeated lines. I know that the repeat fills out the meter, but for me, I really don't think you need them. By the end of the first stanza, I was getting a bit tired of them to tell the truth. I would be happier (not that you wrote this piece for MY gratification lol), if they were slightly re-worked on each repeat. "I can't let go, I won't let go". I'm sure it wouldn't take too much thought to proceed like this, and it would feel less "lazy" sorry, I hate to say things like that, but it is what I felt.

As I said, there's not much else I can say that hasn't already been said, but I hope you don't mind too much my comments.

best regards

Mark

[RiverNotch]

Hi river,
I may well stylise this piece with all your comma suggestions. It was not a Damascus moment when I realised that the repetition reward was counter productive. I think there is more economy in your way.
Why Marie? Expediency. It rhymes with "me" last lines.
I am not sure yet about the cheap Hail Marie. I once felt that a worshipful wordiness pervaded this poem...I am no longer sure.
What I am after is simplicity of surface intent but deep waters beneath.
Fail. Perhaps it is not possible.
Best,
tectak

I see the worshipfulness you find here. I think the repetition there works well, just the last stanza doesn't really say anything new about it. Maybe instead of that last stanza, or my earlier suggestion of the first two lines, continue the thought of the dreams in the first stanza's last line? Something like:
'And that dream sorta continues
and in that dream, you sigh
"Hey, yo, Remember me!"
Yes! I do, I do, my hail Marie.'

[billy]

i have no idea what the form is or if it is a form.
i like the idea/concept of it. the refrains work well and punch home points made, though i think they'd work better with bit of variation.
however i have a couple of niggles. i can't stop wanting to see it in couplet format. and while such sadness allows for an odd cliche. you have some pretty large ones here. in the first couple you have a quite rage at her death after that the 2nd line refrains become less angry and more memorable. i wonder if it would be better continuing the anger right to penultimate couplet.

Marie died a week ago.
I can't let go.I can't let go.
I loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday.Like yesterday.
I touched her hand and stroked her brow.
A memory now. A memory now.
We said goodbye, we cried for you.
Friends loved you, too, they loved you, too.
Alone now with your photograph.
I hear you laugh. I hear you laugh.
To sleep I hold your pillow tight.
Alone at  night. Alone at  night.
In chill dawn air I make  believe.
I hear you breathe. I hear you breathe.
I doze beside you in the shade .
A dream we made. A dream we made.

Marie died a week ago
but still I see her hair of grey, is but needed?
and touch her hand and stroke her brow.
Her photograph is on the bed
propped on her pillow by my head. very sad. [in an an emotional way]
I cried last night for me, not her.
In every moment she is there.
In dreams you sigh, "Remember me".
I do, I do, my Hail Marie. while i like the feeling of vows being remembered. hail marie feels gimmicky.
tectak 2015

Original
Mary died a week ago.
I can't let go.I can't let go.
I loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday.Like yesterday.
I touched her hand and stroked her brow.
A memory now. A memory now.
We said goodbye and cried for you.
Friends loved you, too, they loved you, too.
Alone now with your photograph.
I hear you laugh. I hear you laugh.
I sleep and hold the pillow tight.
Alone at  night. Alone at  night.
In chill dawn air I make  believe.
I hear you breathe. I hear you breathe.
I doze beside you in the shade .
A dream we made. A dream we made.
Mary died a week ago
but still I see her hair of grey,
and touch her hand
and stroke her brow.
Her photograph is on the bed
propped on her pillow by my head.
How I cried last night for her
yet in each moment she is there.
A dream we made. Remember me.
And I do, my Hail Mary.
tectak 2015

[tectak]

i have no idea what the form is or if it is a form.
i like the idea/concept of it. the refrains work well and punch home points made, though i think they'd work better with bit of variation.
however i have a couple of niggles. i can't stop wanting to see it in couplet format. and while such sadness allows for an odd cliche. you have some pretty large ones here. in the first couple you have a quite rage at her death after that the 2nd line refrains become less angry and more memorable. i wonder if it would be better continuing the anger right to penultimate couplet.

Marie died a week ago.
I can't let go.I can't let go.
I loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday.Like yesterday.
I touched her hand and stroked her brow.
A memory now. A memory now.
We said goodbye, we cried for you.
Friends loved you, too, they loved you, too.
Alone now with your photograph.
I hear you laugh. I hear you laugh.
To sleep I hold your pillow tight.
Alone at  night. Alone at  night.
In chill dawn air I make  believe.
I hear you breathe. I hear you breathe.
I doze beside you in the shade .
A dream we made. A dream we made.

Marie died a week ago
but still I see her hair of grey, is but needed?
and touch her hand and stroke her brow.
Her photograph is on the bed
propped on her pillow by my head. very sad. [in an an emotional way]
I cried last night for me, not her.
In every moment she is there.
In dreams you sigh, "Remember me".
I do, I do, my Hail Marie. while i like the feeling of vows being remembered. hail marie feels gimmicky.
tectak 2015

Original
Mary died a week ago.
I can't let go.I can't let go.
I loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday.Like yesterday.
I touched her hand and stroked her brow.
A memory now. A memory now.
We said goodbye and cried for you.
Friends loved you, too, they loved you, too.
Alone now with your photograph.
I hear you laugh. I hear you laugh.
I sleep and hold the pillow tight.
Alone at  night. Alone at  night.
In chill dawn air I make  believe.
I hear you breathe. I hear you breathe.
I doze beside you in the shade .
A dream we made. A dream we made.
Mary died a week ago
but still I see her hair of grey,
and touch her hand
and stroke her brow.
Her photograph is on the bed
propped on her pillow by my head.
How I cried last night for her
yet in each moment she is there.
A dream we made. Remember me.
And I do, my Hail Mary.
tectak 2015

Hi billy,

you bang many drums. This is a form I use quite often . It is called Noknownform. The idea is to get as much meaning out of simplicity by letting the reader empathise (see dales's comments). The strict syllable count, as others have noted, is 7(intro) 9,8,9,8......until the unravelling of burgeoning thoughts at the end. I know it is sing-song, even comedic to some with an overdeveloped sense of humour but that in itself is the way of eulogy. Recent experience made this theatrically clear and I don't need to go in to it here.
I particularly appreciate your lateral thinking on some of my "stuff", in this case the subconscious insertion of wedding vows at the end. That is just the kind of "effect" I was hoping for. As for cliche, I agree. I make no excuse but labour an old argument of mine that cliche is sometimes the prerogative of the character/narrator but never the writer.Make what you will of that but it is a long held view which I may have to modify quite soon.
River made punctuation points which I will act on in an edit because the intent is intensified by such lines as "I loved her when her hair turned grey like yesterday.Like yesterday." Two completely different meanings in two lines but with the same words. I hope there are other dual intents in this piece but I won't be looking for them.
I will change the negative consequentiality of  "but". Its use is wrong. I am at a loss over the gimicky Hail Marie but argue that the eulogy from the character (harping back to recent experience) is not from me, the writer...or I should say, is not intended to be. Same logic as veracious cliche in reportage. No excuse, just an explanation.
Best,
tectak

---

Hi Tectak

I thought I'd give you some feedback from the perspective of one who finds herself thrust into the unwelcome role of "griever".  I read your poem before and after I got the news of the death of a close friend.

Quite honestly, now I read it and the last line is the most important. Hail Mary. It kind of assigns a reverence to the person you've lost; the fragrance they've left behind is like incense.

The lines:
loved her when hair turned grey.
Like yesterday.Like yesterday.

The one I lost was 29, yet I loved her when her hair turned grey.
Like yesterday. Like yesterday.

Tense shifting is spot on. As is the switching between her and you. The only salve for the shocking wound of the present is to grab her from the past and talk to her/about her/to her.

Simplicity and repetition are vital to this piece, as is a certain "raggedness". Is grief tidy? I think not.

I prefer the original version, as is, without the break. Perhaps you could have two versions...?

Just some thoughts here! G. :-)

Hi grace,
well, you got the scenario spot on. Contemporary commentry from me.I will be saying(excusing myself) to river what I am now about to say to you.
One of the most noticeable problems of speaking openly about still raw grief is the characteristic "breaking down".of the narrator. It is as if the initial resolve to get things said  evaporates  into that heart wrenching stress of recall, then stoicism and control breaks down into disorder and honest emotion. I tried to make this visible by breaking the syllable count rigidity towards the end. It may  not be enough but it is one of the reasons why billy felt he needed couplets, when the  cracks would be more obvious. He may be right. I do not know yet.
Thanks again.
tectak

---

Hi Tectak,

Let me start by saying that I like your piece.  It's a very poignant and emotive look at grief and bereavement.  It's also very hard to find anything that hasn't already been mentioned by others, but..........

I agree that 3 syllables would be better for the opening line and if the name can't be changed, then maybe consider something like "Marie just died, a week ago".  It gives you the extra syllable since I'm sure Marie would not want to be remembered as Maria or anyone else.

Then we come to the repeated lines.  I know that the repeat fills out the meter, but for me, I really don't think you need them.  By the end of the first stanza, I was getting a bit tired of them to tell the truth.  I would be happier (not that you wrote this piece for MY gratification lol), if they were slightly re-worked on each repeat.  "I can't let go, I won't let go".  I'm sure it wouldn't take too much thought to proceed like this, and it would feel less "lazy" sorry, I hate to say things like that, but it is what I felt.

As I said, there's not much else I can say that hasn't already been said, but I hope you don't mind too much my comments.  

best regards

Mark

Hi mark,
thank you for sticking this one through. It is  not veracity verse in the sense that is often (mis) understood in that the whole thing is observed behaviour and to a greater extent than I would normally admit to, reportage.
Having said that, your points are valid in that I often fail to see the woods for the trees.
I am grateful.I eat all crit.
Best,
tectak