Morning

[MattVoscinar]

When we woke,
we wrapped ourselves in tangerine light,
kissed the morning with blood,
wrapped our biceps with silver linings,
and found our pulse.

The sky was covered in ash—
thick gray blankets
that fell like snow
and crumbled in our hands.

A cardinal sat outside the bedroom window,
unaware of death cackling with clenched teeth,
and searched for something to eat in the fog.

[billy]

i said,
lovely image of the light going on, though i'm not sure that's what is happening now after the full read a couple of times i get the impression of a nuclear winter, perhaps you could give just a little bit more away[ maybe with the title]

thanks for the read and the feedback elsewhere.
at one point i got childbirth but i refuse to say where in case i look like a silly boy

When we woke, no need for this line, if you really want it, consider it as the 2nd line.
we wrapped ourselves in tangerine light, lovely image of the light going on, though i'm not sure that's what is happening
kissed the morning with blood, why/how? though it's a great image
wrapped our biceps with silver linings,
and found our pulse. again, why? don't say anything if it's a metaphor for find one's bearings.

The sky was covered in ash—
thick gray blankets
that fell like snow cliche
and crumbled in our hands. this stanza give the impression of a post apocalyptic scene. not much wrong here.

A cardinal sat outside the bedroom window,
unaware of death cackling with clenched teeth,
and searched for something to eat in the fog. excellent end, the image of the cardinal that contrasts with the horror of the middle stanza, yet still has an undercurrent of something terrible.

[tectak]

Morning, matt,
Unusual for me I am draw  in to interpretation of this piece. It "reads" well and that is one ovewhelming requirement of pop-prose. I could break the thing up in any manner different ways based on meter, syllable count or form but I just cannot see how I could improve the inherent rightness. So I am forced in to a place I don't often go and that, that, is a very good thing. I read awakening in some devastated environment, not post apocalyptic, but post volcanic eruption. If wrong, then I have to say it is your fault...go to line 1 of this crit. If I am right, procede to line by line
When we woke,
we wrapped ourselves in tangerine light,
kissed the morning with blood,
wrapped our biceps with silver linings,
and found our pulse. No technical issues here but "wrapping" with "linings" is a tad unconvincing...but you seem to like wrapping things.... You line-end on pauses but you could lose the comma after "linings" whereupon the pause, if thought needed, would fall naturally by enjamb/and combination. If anything, the metaphorical language is disturbingly surreal....and by definition not "real". This is not helpful to understanding but creates atmosphere, read "imagery". So moving quickly on....

The sky was covered in ash— We have made a transitional slip in to observation now, and the metaphors have fallen like ash from the sky. You are now no longer able to support the surreal and for me you have lapsed in to unthinking cliche...it reads as though you (not the character) are relieved. Grey blanket skies, falling like snow,crumbling in hands? Hmm. I just KNOW I have heard those expressions before and yet the feeling is of forgiveness because holistically the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. The problem now is how to get back ahead of the reader and that makes me dread what is coming
thick gray blankets
that fell like snow blankets falling like snow is a toughy
and crumbled in our hands.

A cardinal sat outside the bedroom window, If course he did. I mean, why not? Sounds good to me, but what the hell does it all mean? Now you see why I normally avoid content crit. Could you bring in a traffic warden at the end...just to clarify the situation by familiarity
unaware of death cackling with clenched teeth,
and searched for something to eat in the fog.

So I liked it...does that make me a bad crit? Seriously though, obscurity should not be an end unto itself ESPECIALLY if it seems accidental. The middle stanza sounds much better than it is, or perhaps I should say "sounds more" than it is. As a link between the tempting intrigue of the opener and the quizzical video-game imagery end it only serves to show that you are unsure of your own intent. That throws me...was that your intent?
Best and ditto billy's comments,
tectak

[fluorescent.43]

When we woke, the use of 'we' implies that this is a metaphor for something bigger. the imagery follows suit.
we wrapped ourselves in tangerine light, this stanza has some lovely imagery going on, but it's reeled off in a list with only a comma to separate. i'd suggest ending this with a period.
kissed the morning with blood,
wrapped our biceps with silver linings, reminds me of a tattoo. 'biceps', to me, is also distinctly masculine in tone.
and found our pulse. none of this imagery has any impact on me because it's so quickly written. each line is too distinct, too different. i say expand each line and explore it a little more.

The sky was covered in ash— threatens to be apocalyptically cliché in this stanza, but i think the last two lines save it.
thick gray blankets
that fell like snow
and crumbled in our hands. this line suggests partial responsibility to me. this stanza too is lovely in its own right but as a whole poem the images start to fall apart because there's no glue to connect them except for a shaky thread of morning.

A cardinal sat outside the bedroom window,
unaware of death cackling with clenched teeth,a bit cliché. it's tough to do something original when personifying death because the grim-reaper-in-the-night-howling-to-the-wind has been done too many times. combined with your ashes-sky thing, this poem starts to remind me of a YA novel.
and searched for something to eat in the fog. great. did your cardinal find something to eat? the ending line has no impact whatsoever on me.

one thing i noted is that your title is relatively simple. 'Morning' is traditionally a lovely and pretty thing, so i think your poem is slightly off against your title. adding an adjective would work better- maybe 'Red Morning'? but it's entirely up to you.

anyways... i feel like you already know what i'm about to say: choose your words carefully. you come up with some good imagery in this poem, which is the only thing that saves it from being a total disaster, but they're neither carefully crafted nor connected. 'Morning' suggests that you wake up to this scene of horror, but i have no idea what it is or the cause or the effects or what-even-happened-here. too vague.

also, if the sky were covered in ashes, how is there tangerine light? i admit i like the thought of tangerine light, though. very pretty, but not much meaning. if there is a story you want to tell, tell it clearly and succinctly. choose your images carefully because they'll set the tone of your poem-- the ashes-in-the-sky part is somber, but the cardinal part is almost funny. the death interjection is like an attempt to connect it, somehow, to the rest of the poem. each of your stanzas could be a different poem.

good luck if you intend to edit! keep working on this-- i say you could turn it something really nice with some cleaning up.

43.

[MattVoscinar]

Cheers on the ideas, everyone! I'll get to editing promptly.

A quick question: I've been struggling with the second line of the final stanza. Do you believe that removing it takes anything from the piece?

[Mark A Becker]

Hey Matt-
I cheated and read the other comments first, so now critique will be subconsciously affected. That said, I'm pretty good with making up my mind, and fending off previous notions...


When we woke,
we wrapped ourselves in tangerine light,good image
kissed the morning with blood,confused if your intent is "we...kissed" or "light kissed".  Structurally, as the sentence reads, I have "kissed" referring back to "we"
wrapped our biceps with silver linings,this is an obscure image to me
and found our pulse. and I find my bearings again.  Unfortunately this makes the "silver linings" equate to the blood pressure bands applied to biceps

The sky was covered in ash—I am forced to take this literally, so I picture: forest fire, volcano, or nuclear winter
thick gray blankets
that fell like snow
and crumbled in our hands.good description that the ash is real and has a tactile feel

A cardinal sat outside the bedroom window,nothing obscure or abstract in this image
unaware of death cackling with clenched teeth, gotta really pause here-- what cackles with clenched teeth?  My cat makes a different type of pre-attack sound, so I guess is it a metaphor.  Problem being, the cardinal will fly off at the first sound of danger (cackling)
and searched for something to eat in the fog. weak ending my friend, esp with all of the previous portents

The introduction of the cardinal and the whole 3rd stanza seem to be the wrong way to end this thing.  I certain tension was built, then defused at S.3.  Why?  Or is there a 4th stanza forthcoming to wrap this one up.

Abstraction is one thing, and I usually like the thought it provokes.  Obscurity is another, because it loses this reader almost every time. I don't need to be smacked up side the head, but I do need to be poked in the ear.

You will need to get the inside of your head on to the page a bit better, otherwise this piece teeters on obscurity.  (Hey, people love poems that Dylan Thomas wrote, but to me they were obscure, though musical, and nowhere near the quality of his short stories).

I wait patiently for the next draft...
... Mark

[isabelhershko]

"When we woke,
we wrapped ourselves in tangerine light,
kissed the morning with blood,
wrapped our biceps with silver linings, 
and found our pulse. 

The sky was covered in ash—
thick gray blankets
that fell like snow
and crumbled in our hands.

A cardinal sat outside the bedroom window,
unaware of death cackling with clenched teeth,
and searched for something to eat in the fog."

I love the expression "tangerine light" in L2. Writing about sunshine in poetry is so easily cliched, but you did a great job avoiding that. You turned it into something different and fresh. Good job. L3 is very intriguing, caught my attention as a reader right away. The contrast between sweetness with a kiss and gore with blood is nicely don here. I think in L4 you could find something else besides silver linings to say. That borders on cliche and you came in so strong with the first few sentences that it took me out of it a bit. I think the second stanza feels a bit repetitive. The imagery of an ashen sky would already allude to snow, so L8 feels a little obvious. Nice use of alliteration in L11. I would have liked to see the sentences in the last stanza be a bit more economic to match the rhythm of the rest of the poem, but that may just be a personal preference for format. 

[musesbydaylight]

All right let me get to it:

When we woke, (Seeing as your poem is called Morning, I think this is a good way to start the poem. Simple alliteration. Also there seems a good contrast between the routine of waking up in the morning and the post-apocalyptic portents in the rest of the poem)
we wrapped ourselves in tangerine light, (As much as I like the term "tangerine light" which particularly meshes well with kissing a morning with blood, I cannot say that I like these two lines. They are too obscure and contrast badly with the other lines of the poem where an immediate meaning is more clear. They seem vaguely empowering particularly when combined with the line "wrapped our biceps with silver linings" but I feel you can do better than these two lines.)
kissed the morning with blood,
wrapped our biceps with silver linings, 
and found our pulse. ( I like this line and the one above. It seems to me to communicate some sort of hope. I feel like they are wrapping silver linings about their arms like gauntlets and in doing so have found a "pulse" a reason to go on.)

The sky was covered in ash—
thick gray blankets
that fell like snow
and crumbled in our hands. ( Cliched imagery. Written nicely enough. But feels too familiar)

A cardinal sat outside the bedroom window, (Does this refer to the bird "Cardinal?" If so I like these last lines very much. It shows the perseverance of life in the face of death)
unaware of death cackling with clenched teeth,
and searched for something to eat in the fog.


I think this piece has potential. When I first read it the accessibility  of the imagery seemed to carry it through. But on closer reading I feel like the imagery doesnt hold up. It is either too familiar or too obscure.

But I do think this piece has potential. The basic idea (as I saw it and I hope I'm not wrong) of hope in a hopeless place definitely has power. And the final lines are in my opinion very good.

Best of luck with the writing!

[3zu]

When we woke,
we wrapped ourselves in tangerine light,
kissed the morning with blood,
wrapped our biceps with silver linings,
and found our pulse.

... 24 words in, the entire first stanza and I still don't know where I am or why I might be there. Not one word has been sacrificed that would place me in the matrix of the piece. Not one. So I'm feeling pretty good, right? Not so much.
There are only 65 words in the whole piece, by word 24 I should have been well situated - but, no.

The poem does introduce "we", second word as a matter of fact - "we" is given no other description - would have helped.

"we" however, is busy - "we wrapped ourselves in tangerine light," - I let this one slide at first because I thought it meant we were going somewhere. However that hope did not prove out.

we (implied this time) kissed the morning with blood" Why? Is there significance to this line ? If there is it deserved to be supported, backed up - it was not.

we (again implied) "wrapped our biceps with silver linings," - Ok, I surrender, I have no idea what this line means. Not a clue, nada, zero, zip -

"and found our pulse" - ( good thing you found your pulse because if you can't find it & nobody else can find it then it means you're dead. )

The remainder of the piece follows with ambiguity consistent with its beginning stanza and would leave me repeating verbatim what I have already said.

Matt, your piece depends heavily, almost exclusively, upon description.
Trouble is a reader does not live by description alone no matter how finely done or overdone it may be. You should see to building your next house on a rock, my guess is it will stand a while.