Mums Gone - Edit 1

[tomoffing]

"Go quick! Get something while Mum's gone!".
Your fingers dipped and disappeared,
producing 20p from that worn, old, plum purse.
Seat-belt unbuckled I scuttled into Blacks Newsagents,
returning with a hoard of tart, emerald, apple Frosties.
We sat then, holed up in the sweet hush,
sucking the spoils like gleeful pirates.
We stayed tight-lipped through the scolding too; 
our harmless defiance of daughter and mother
drew all of us closer to one another.
 
That day’s giveaway scent mingled
with Gordon’s and Channel and hinted to me
of your presence for years thereafter.

It was lost to lavender and ageing orange
the evening I was led, one of the cousins,
down to where you lay, to say hello.
My hand clutched gently in vanishing light
at the sudden onset of mid-winter night,
you inquired of my behaviour, schooling and sports.
When you'd tired I stood to go, hugged, 
said I’d see you soon.
"Not as soon as I'd like", you replied,
eyes puddling with pride,
words and embrace wavering
from the strain in your back.

It was broken in the attack of the wretched man.
You refused his demand, so he cursed
and wrenched your purse, stripping you of eighty cents, 
a tattered tube of Frosties; the last of your resilience.

It was incense when next I saw you.
Portrait propped atop the box,
smiling irreverently 
on the elegant and black-clad snuffling past. 

I'm glad only the adults travelled
to have you burned and scattered.
"When dead", you'd said, "timing of presence
is no longer a relevant factor".


Original
Your fingers dipped and disappeared 
to produce two 20p's from your worn plum purse. 
"Go quick! Get something while Mum's gone!" 
Seat-belts unbuckled we scuttled 
into Blacks Newsagents, emerging 
with a hoard of tart, emerald, apple Frosties 
to share with you. 
We three sat then, in sweet hush, 
sucking the spoils like gleeful pirates, 
and sat still, tight-lipped 
through the scolding;
all the closer for taking it together. 

The sharp-sugary giveaway scent of that day
mingled with Gordon's and Channel and hinted to me
of your presence for years thereafter

until it was lost 
to lavender and ageing orange,
the evening I was led, one of the cousins,
down to where you lay to say hello. 
My hand clutched gently in vanishing light 
at the sudden onset of mid-winter night,
you asked of my behaviour, school, sports and such.
I relayed comings and goings; neither of us 
focused on the comings too much.
When time for a younger hello
I stood to go, hugged and said I'd see you soon. 
Stupidly. "Not as soon as I'd like." you replied,
words and embrace wavering 
from the strain in your back 
broken in the attack of the wretched man
who wrenched your purse from you;
eighty cents, a tattered tube of Frosties,
the last of your resilience.

It was incense when next I saw you,
inclined and elevated atop yourself
smiling irreverently 
on the elegant and black-clad snuffling past.
I was glad only the adults travelled
to have you burned and scattered.
You’d never have acknowledged
that journey really mattered.

[Keith]

Hi Tomoffing I enjoyed the poem and it is obviously close to you but since you put it in serious I thought it ok to give serious feedback. I particularly like how the mums gone feature more than once and is mapped by different smells and images, I think it needs more clarity as to who is saying or doing what, but in general it is a worthy piece well balanced across the senses

Your fingers dipped and disappeared 
to produce two 20p's from your worn plum purse. 
"Go quick! Get something while Mum's gone!" The sonics in the first two lines are good but they would fit better after this line as your opener
Seat-belts unbuckled we scuttled good sound and image
into Blacks Newsagents, emerging 
with a hoard of tart, emerald, apple Frosties odd choices but interesting, could work harder
to share with you. Not sure who you is, I assumed dad but it's not clear
We three sat then, in sweet hush, I would drop sweet hush and swap round sat then just focus on the pirate spoils
sucking the spoils like gleeful pirates, nice image playfull and childlike
and sat still, tight-lipped 
through the scolding; I guess from mum but not clear
all the closer for taking it together. Lads and dads maybe ? But again not clear who is in the image

The sharp-sugary giveaway scent of that day
mingled with Gordon's and Channel and hinted to me
of your presence for years thereafter. Like this stanza, like that they hint it reads as though you believe she was there and I like the mystery in that.

until it was lost this sound off not sure what but I would have another look here
to lavender and ageing orange,
the evening I was led, one of the cousins,
down to where you lay to say hello. 
My hand clutched gently in vanishing light 
at the sudden onset of mid-winter night,
you asked of my behaviour, school, sports and such.
I relayed comings and goings; neither of us 
focused on the comings too much.
When time for a younger hello
I stood to go, hugged and said I'd see you soon. 
Stupidly. "Not as soon as I'd like." you replied,
words and embrace wavering 
from the strain in your back 
broken in the attack of the wretched man
who wrenched your purse from you;
eighty cents, a tattered tube of Frosties,
the last of your resilience. This stanza needs to be cut back to bring out a clear message to me you have too many things to say and you need to focus on what is important, what you want the reader to take away

It was incense when next I saw you,
inclined and elevated atop yourself
smiling irreverently 
on the elegant and black-clad snuffling past.sad but well described the internal rhymes work well in this stanza
I was glad only the adults travelled
to have you burned and scattered.
You’d never have acknowledged
that journey really mattered. Well put and a good insight for the reader.

Hope some of my comments are helpful I'm sure others will join in, good luck work shopping this one it is very real and a lovely tribute, well worth the time to get it how you want it. Best keith

[tectak]

Hi tomo (not keith, an age thing typo...how are you keith?)
a big yes to this. I wouldn't presume to adjust intent or flavour because it is my kind of relish. If there must be crit then so be it...but the in text  nits are  not irritating enough to use drastic remedial action...just a  comb-through would do it. A  very  nice piece.
Your fingers dipped and disappeared 
to produce two 20p's from your worn plum purse.  Questioning another "your" as it is unlikely she would dip in to someone else's purse. You might find that "a purse" works here...by implying familiar memory on your (the narrator's) part
"Go quick! Get something while Mum's gone!" 
Seat-belts unbuckled we scuttled 
into Blacks Newsagents, emerging 
with a hoard of tart, emerald, apple Frosties 
to share with you.  Though this line is extended  to a degree, yet it is supported well by punctuation, there .1is something irksome with the enjambment which I am damned if I can put my finger on. On rereading the sentence over and over I think I am more irritated by not knowing what's wrong with it than by what's wrong with it
We three sat then, in sweet hush, 
sucking the spoils like gleeful pirates, 
and sat still, tight-lipped 
through the scolding;
all the closer for taking it together.  Not so here. "sat then" and "sat still" is saturation. Too much sat. Not much can upset this piece, though. It still works.

The sharp-sugary giveaway scent of that day It may be a giveaway to you but what is it giving away? I don't think you mean this. I think you mean "distinctive" or "emotive" or "familiar"...or a combination of all three. Your poem. In any event I read " sugary-sharp" or "sharp, sugary" but not "sharp-sugary". To be honest, one you have defined that citric scent you could almost drop the word "giveaway" completely as you have  "given away" the identifier by the description.
mingled with Gordon's and Channel and hinted to me
of your presence for years thereafter Beautiful encapsulated thought. The persistence of memory by Madelaines is not as convincing as by the scent of Madelaines. Proust please note.

until it was lost  You do not need this break. You are writing about a continuous, and by your own words concurrent, memory train. A shift, maybe, from the creation "then" until the ongoing "now" but linear,  nonetheless. Why break the link?
to lavender and ageing orange, Just excellent
the evening I was led, one of the cousins,
down to where you lay to say hello.  Punctuation matters.Did she always lie down when greeting you?
My hand clutched gently in vanishing light 
at the sudden onset of mid-winter night,
you asked of my behaviour, school, sports and such. "and such" is such a let-down. You may as well have said etc.
I relayed comings and goings; neither of us 
focused on the comings too much.
When time for a younger helloUnclear
I stood to go, hugged and said I'd see you soon. 
Stupidly. "Not as soon as I'd like." you replied, Stictly, comma after the narrative
words and embrace wavering 
from the strain in your back 
broken in the attack of the wretched man
who wrenched your purse from you; This sentence is in a bloody rush. It needs  calming down. It is pivotal. Emphasise the point by clarity and get the sombreness, seriousness and weight of feeling up front. There are complex feelings here. Outrage, sorrow, guilt(?), remorse, regret, love...do not rush to the finish line. I see this far too often. Keep faith with the texture and detail and never stop flying.
eighty cents, a tattered tube of Frosties,
the last of your resilience.

It was incense when next I saw you,
inclined and elevated atop yourself Poor , unthought-out image. Again, rushed.
smiling irreverently 
on the elegant and black-clad snuffling past. Punctuation matters. You are now tired.I know what you mean but any unintentional optional meaning at this late stage sits uneasily on the reason...seewhat I mean?
I was glad only the adults travelled
to have you burned and scattered.
You’d never have acknowledged
that journey really mattered. It is an ending of sorts. It does conclude....but how I wish you had phrased it...er...better? Differently?

[tomoffing]

Thanks Keith, appreciate your time.
I've struggled to release this one for some time because I was unconvinced on several elements, two of which you have nailed. Namely, the ambiguous identity of the character in S1, and the general clutter in S2. A frank cirt to confirm those reservations is just what was needed.

Time to be less protective of the memory me thinks.

thanks again,
t

Hi Tomoffing I enjoyed the poem and it is obviously close to you but since you put it in serious I thought it ok to give serious feedback. I particularly like how the mums gone feature more than once and is mapped by different smells and images, I think it needs more clarity as to who is saying or doing what, but in general it is a worthy piece well balanced across the senses

Your fingers dipped and disappeared 
to produce two 20p's from your worn plum purse. 
"Go quick! Get something while Mum's gone!" The sonics in the first two lines are good but they would fit better after this line as your opener
Seat-belts unbuckled we scuttled good sound and image
into Blacks Newsagents, emerging 
with a hoard of tart, emerald, apple Frosties odd choices but interesting, could work harder
to share with you. Not sure who you is, I assumed dad but it's not clear
We three sat then, in sweet hush, I would drop sweet hush and swap round sat then just focus on the pirate spoils
sucking the spoils like gleeful pirates, nice image playfull and childlike
and sat still, tight-lipped 
through the scolding; I guess from mum but not clear
all the closer for taking it together. Lads and dads maybe ? But again not clear who is in the image

The sharp-sugary giveaway scent of that day
mingled with Gordon's and Channel and hinted to me
of your presence for years thereafter. Like this stanza, like that they hint it reads as though you believe she was there and I like the mystery in that.

until it was lost this sound off not sure what but I would have another look here
to lavender and ageing orange,
the evening I was led, one of the cousins,
down to where you lay to say hello. 
My hand clutched gently in vanishing light 
at the sudden onset of mid-winter night,
you asked of my behaviour, school, sports and such.
I relayed comings and goings; neither of us 
focused on the comings too much.
When time for a younger hello
I stood to go, hugged and said I'd see you soon. 
Stupidly. "Not as soon as I'd like." you replied,
words and embrace wavering 
from the strain in your back 
broken in the attack of the wretched man
who wrenched your purse from you;
eighty cents, a tattered tube of Frosties,
the last of your resilience. This stanza needs to be cut back to bring out a clear message to me you have too many things to say and you need to focus on what is important, what you want the reader to take away

It was incense when next I saw you,
inclined and elevated atop yourself
smiling irreverently 
on the elegant and black-clad snuffling past.sad but well described the internal rhymes work well in this stanza
I was glad only the adults travelled
to have you burned and scattered.
You’d never have acknowledged
that journey really mattered. Well put and a good insight for the reader.

Hope some of my comments are helpful I'm sure others will join in, good luck work shopping this one it is very real and a lovely tribute, well worth the time to get it how you want it. Best keith

[tomoffing]

Thanks Tectak, you have a clear eye for weakness.
Keith observed clutter or complexity in stanza 3, and you've noted hurriedness... In either case, I have problems to address.

t

Hi tomo (not keith, an age thing typo...how are you keith?)
a big yes to this. I wouldn't presume to adjust intent or flavour because it is my kind of relish. If there must be crit then so be it...but the in text  nits are  not irritating enough to use drastic remedial action...just a  comb-through would do it. A  very  nice piece.
Your fingers dipped and disappeared 
to produce two 20p's from your worn plum purse.  Questioning another "your" as it is unlikely she would dip in to someone else's purse. You might find that "a purse" works here...by implying familiar memory on your (the narrator's) part
"Go quick! Get something while Mum's gone!" 
Seat-belts unbuckled we scuttled 
into Blacks Newsagents, emerging 
with a hoard of tart, emerald, apple Frosties 
to share with you.  Though this line is extended  to a degree, yet it is supported well by punctuation, there .1is something irksome with the enjambment which I am damned if I can put my finger on. On rereading the sentence over and over I think I am more irritated by not knowing what's wrong with it than by what's wrong with it
We three sat then, in sweet hush, 
sucking the spoils like gleeful pirates, 
and sat still, tight-lipped 
through the scolding;
all the closer for taking it together.  Not so here. "sat then" and "sat still" is saturation. Too much sat. Not much can upset this piece, though. It still works.

The sharp-sugary giveaway scent of that day It may be a giveaway to you but what is it giving away? I don't think you mean this. I think you mean "distinctive" or "emotive" or "familiar"...or a combination of all three. Your poem. In any event I read " sugary-sharp" or "sharp, sugary" but not "sharp-sugary". To be honest, one you have defined that citric scent you could almost drop the word "giveaway" completely as you have  "given away" the identifier by the description.
mingled with Gordon's and Channel and hinted to me
of your presence for years thereafter Beautiful encapsulated thought. The persistence of memory by Madelaines is not as convincing as by the scent of Madelaines. Proust please note.

until it was lost  You do not need this break. You are writing about a continuous, and by your own words concurrent, memory train. A shift, maybe, from the creation "then" until the ongoing "now" but linear,  nonetheless. Why break the link?
to lavender and ageing orange, Just excellent
the evening I was led, one of the cousins,
down to where you lay to say hello.  Punctuation matters.Did she always lie down when greeting you?
My hand clutched gently in vanishing light 
at the sudden onset of mid-winter night,
you asked of my behaviour, school, sports and such. "and such" is such a let-down. You may as well have said etc.
I relayed comings and goings; neither of us 
focused on the comings too much.
When time for a younger helloUnclear
I stood to go, hugged and said I'd see you soon. 
Stupidly. "Not as soon as I'd like." you replied, Stictly, comma after the narrative
words and embrace wavering 
from the strain in your back 
broken in the attack of the wretched man
who wrenched your purse from you; This sentence is in a bloody rush. It needs  calming down. It is pivotal. Emphasise the point by clarity and get the sombreness, seriousness and weight of feeling up front. There are complex feelings here. Outrage, sorrow, guilt(?), remorse, regret, love...do not rush to the finish line. I see this far too often. Keep faith with the texture and detail and never stop flying.
eighty cents, a tattered tube of Frosties,
the last of your resilience.

It was incense when next I saw you,
inclined and elevated atop yourself Poor , unthought-out image. Again, rushed.
smiling irreverently 
on the elegant and black-clad snuffling past. Punctuation matters. You are now tired.I know what you mean but any unintentional optional meaning at this late stage sits uneasily on the reason...seewhat I mean?
I was glad only the adults travelled
to have you burned and scattered.
You’d never have acknowledged
that journey really mattered. It is an ending of sorts. It does conclude....but how I wish you had phrased it...er...better? Differently?

[tomoffing]

thanks again keith and tectak for your input. I hope i've addressed some of the issues. t