Stealing Fruit (edit 2)

[Genuinebloke]

Stolen Fruit (edit 2)

The oak had my back, armoured,
though useless as a sentry. 
His juniors circled 
like witnesses at an acident.
Curtains of chlorophyll green 
provided privacy against prying eyes, 
for the peach that fell into my hands 
was mine to neither pick nor taste. 

Blushed skin, freckled, with fine hair, 
brushed my mouth, releasing 
notes of readiness 
to dance across my palate. 
The hors d'oeuvre demanded an entrée
and now my prize bit back, 
resisting while yielding 
and tasting while being consumed. 
Inviting devastation, to feel how it is
to be absorbed by another. 

The stoic oak preserves our secrets 
one circle deeper with each passing year. 
Still in my memory, the taste has dulled.
Never forgotten, only losing 
potency with each reimagining. 
Like dusk fading to summer's stars 
her scent remains
where she rested briefly against my shoulder.


Original post
An early version of this poem was described by other reviewers as "a bit Mills and Boon" in places, so I'm keen to know if this reworking carries credibility.

Stealing Fruit
 
The oak at my back
was a useless sentry.
Pine circled
like witnesses around casualties,
while undergrowth in chlorophyll robes
curtained privacy
for a crop crying out to be eaten,
though mine to neither pick nor taste.
 
Blushed skin, freckled with fine hair
brushed my mouth, releasing
notes of almost summer
that approached my palate
then gently withdrew.
The morsel hastened a mouthful
and now my prize bit back,
resisting while yielding
and tasting while being consumed.
Eager participants in mutual destruction.
 
Oak and pine enshrine our secrets
one circle deeper with each passing year.
But taste fades like memories,
never forgotten, only losing
potency with each reimagining.
Like the shrinking shadow of her scent
where she rested briefly against my shoulder.

[billy]

the good thing is that you never once wrote meat dagger pole, shaft or thrust.

where i've put denotes either millzy or wtf. sometimtes both in general there'as a good poem in there that needs a few edits in order to make it more credible, what i do like is that you tried to use originality.

An early version of this poem was described by other reviewers as "a bit Mills and Boon" in places, so I'm keen to know if this reworking carries credibility.

Stealing Fruit
 
The oak at my back i like the [k]s but feel it too short to end where it did. would anything be added by moving up [was useless] and letting the 2nd be changed to as a sentry?
was a useless sentry.
Pine circled [pine what, furniture?] would pines or pine trees or firs or something else work better?
like witnesses around casualties, casualties feels clunky. a suggestion would be [a casuality] or an [accident]
while undergrowth in chlorophyll robes
curtained privacy
for a crop crying out to be eaten, what's [a crop] i know what it is but it feels wrong, [out] isn't really needed, i would have loved to have read [a cherry]
though mine to neither pick nor taste.
 
Blushed skin, freckled with fine hair good [f's]
brushed my mouth, releasing
notes of almost summer
that approached my palate
then gently withdrew.
The morsel hastened a mouthful
and now my prize bit back,
resisting while yielding
and tasting while being consumed.
Eager participants in mutual destruction.
 
Oak and pine enshrine our secrets could a better word than enshrine be used?
one circle deeper with each passing year.
But taste fades like memories,
never forgotten, only losing
potency with each reimagining.
Like the shrinking shadow of her scent
where she rested briefly against my shoulder.

[tectak]

An early version of this poem was described by other reviewers as "a bit Mills and Boon" in places, so I'm keen to know if this reworking carries credibility.

Stealing Fruit
 
The oak at my back
was a useless sentry.Stoically confident opener in first person  works to inform me. Accepting the past tense as where we start, is the hook. Though I do not know where the metaphor will take me I am drawn to read on...but with the trepidation of experience I fear a let down.
Pine circled Hmmm. Where did the metaphor go? You lift me up, you cast me down. We go from quercus to pinus but still the hoped for clarification eludes us both. OK. You say  *sentry"...a protector, a  barrier, a look-out. The sentry fails in purpose. It is useless. Is that it? What made it so? Ah, perhaps it is the superiority of the pines(s....surely?).  What am I seeing here that the opener gave me to believe would slowly unfold as the metaphor matured? I am at a disadvantage already. YOU can connect your thoughts but I cannot. Adding simile to metaphor is not the answer. WHAT is LIKE witnesses? By using singular pine, you cannot mean plural witnesses. Do you see the structure crumbling? For me, you must finish one clarifying metaphor (in a stanza would help) before lurching in with a simile. It is the panic of purpose.
like witnesses around casualties,
while undergrowth in chlorophyll robes Chlorophyll, as I know you know,is but a molecule in a photosynthesising cell. You mean "chlorophyll green"
curtained privacy
for a crop crying out to be eaten,
though mine to neither pick nor taste. Have you read this out loud? I have. I needed to hyperventilate first. This is several sentences...almost concurrent life sentences...in one. As it is, I just cannot make any sense out of the extended wordiness. Also, it is clunky. I question " curtained" even though I know what you mean. Drop the "while". It is unnecessarily concommitant.
Undergrowth, robed in chlorophyll green,
casts  curtains of privacy round the crop (? question crop)
Though crying out (cliche) to be eaten,
these fruits are  not mine
to pick or taste.
I reserve the right to declunk without knowing what the hell I am declunking.

 
Blushed skin, freckled with fine hair freckled and silky with fine hair. A hair is NOT a freckle, nor can it be freckled about. Why? Because skin can be hairy and can be freckled. To use both descriptors on a known substrate, skin, is asking for trouble because the metaphor is not seen for what it is. Talk about a beach, freckled with crabs, OK...  but a peach freckled with hair?
brushed my mouth, releasing
notes of almost summer Oh come,come. Think positive. Why almost? If we are in autumn, then summer gone.
that approached my palate Though I like the wine tasting terminology, the line lacks the vintage of veracity. Nothing wrong with that per se...in fact, I would say well tried...but just a little more expert erudition would help the metaphor slip down.
then gently withdrew. ...back to the poetry. You are  not attempting to use meter or rhyme...that is fine if it flows from a decanter but these short gulping lines is making it glug from a bottle. You.should look at your line  breaks and choose your enjambments with care.
The morsel hastened a mouthful Disconnect. Once again, I got the peachy fruit a long time back  but now it is a morsel. If I am wrong then what is it a morsel of and if I am right then a morsel of fruit sounds er...
and now my prize bit back,
resisting while yielding
and tasting while being consumed. Watch this habit. This stanza has that, then, and, and. Not good
Eager participants in mutual destruction.
 
Oak and pine enshrine our secrets
one circle deeper with each passing year.
But taste fades like memories,
never forgotten, only losing
potency with each reimagining.
Like the shrinking shadow of her scent
where she rested briefly against my shoulder. Hmm. Scrap everything before this stanza and call it a poem. Conversely, make this stanza one and correct the rest

Hi,
If anything it over heated before it was cooked. Turn down your passion and simmer your way through an edit. This is me liking it...but who the hell am I.
Best,
tectak[/b]

[Achebe]

An early version of this poem was described by other reviewers as "a bit Mills and Boon" in places, so I'm keen to know if this reworking carries credibility.

Stealing Fruit
 
The oak at my back
was a useless sentry.-------------------If it was useless because the pines saw what you did...then are you sure you were curtained by the undergrowth? Logic melt
Pine circled                            ------- Pine-encircled or Pines circled would be fine...could try something like Pines gathered too
like witnesses around casualties, ------------at an accident / like byst around bodies
while undergrowth in chlorophyll robes --------- a very ugly line
curtained privacy
for a crop crying out to be eaten, -------------------- I like this line. Rich. 
though mine to neither pick nor taste. --------------- Slight problem with the metaphor here. Fruit does not grow in the undergrowth, unless you're thinking strawberries. Fallen fruit doesn't need to be picked, right? If you're thinking strawberries...then perhaps the title ought to be 'Stealing strawberries' to avoid the confusion?
 
Blushed skin, freckled with fine hair
brushed my mouth, releasing ----------- Beautiful
notes of almost summer---------- "almost" anything is almost a poetic cliche. Otherwise, it's a rich metaphor if your kisser is an 18 year old girl. Or 29. Or 39. Depending on your age and preference. But if it's too hard, leave the cliche in. I like the idea of an 'almost summer' fruit and an 'almost summer' woman.

that approached my palate
then gently withdrew.
The morsel hastened a mouthful
and now my prize bit back,
resisting while yielding
and tasting while being consumed. ------------- The entire section for me is quite wonderful. I can almost feel the sour-tingly rush of a slightly unripe peach or a kiwi as a I read it, reinforcing the image of kissing a young chick.
Eager participants in mutual destruction. --------- About as thrilling as a screw manufacturer's Annual General Meeting. This is a terribly clunky line that doesn't do justice to the ones above.

Oak and pine enshrine our secrets ------------ 'enshrine' as a synonym for layered burial? better to use 'entomb' or 'inhume' or just 'bury'.
one circle deeper with each passing year. ------------ so far so good, but this image of tree rings doesn't work with 'taste' in the next line.
But taste fades like memories, ----------- what's the 'but' about? Your intention is to contrast the tangible, fixed nature in which tree rings record time with the changing, variable nature of our memories. But the first two lines are talking about how the history is buried, not how it is recorded in a fixed, unchanging way (not that the tree ring record will show that you kissed in proximity to it). This is for me why the line doesn't work.

never forgotten, only losing
potency with each reimagining.
Like the shrinking shadow of her scent 
where she rested briefly against my shoulder. ------------------ I don't want to quibble about 'shadow of scent'....this is delightful.

Overall - this is a solid pome. I read it on my handheld on the way to a meeting and enjoyed it immensely.

[Mark A Becker]

Hello Genuine-

Posting this one in SERIOUS is a bit of stretch, as I see much room for revision and tightening. (NOTE: I always see room for tightening).


So- let's have a taste of it---

Stealing Fruit

The oak at my back
was a useless sentry.like the opening, though "my" metaphor would have the oak as a sturdy, useful sentry
Pine circled
like witnesses around casualties, uh-oh, now we have pines, and unexpected casualties
while undergrowth in chlorophyll robes
curtained privacy
for a crop crying out to be eaten,
though mine to neither pick nor taste. Try as I may, from "while" to "taste" I can only scratch my head. I'm sorry, but I just can't make sense of it.

Blushed skin, freckled with fine hair interesting image here
brushed my mouth, releasing
notes of almost summer I am too dense to understand what "releasing notes of almost summer" means.
that approached my palate
then gently withdrew.
The morsel hastened a mouthful I gotta admit that it sounds like trees "making out"
and now my prize bit back,
resisting while yielding
and tasting while being consumed.
Eager participants in mutual destruction.

Oak and pine enshrine our secrets
one circle deeper with each passing year.
But taste fades like memories,
never forgotten, only losing
potency with each reimagining. You seem to be going for a deeper meaning than these words express: rings of trees marking the years, and memories wrapped up in it all.
Like the shrinking shadow of her scent Hmmm? scents have shadows... maybe so
where she rested briefly against my shoulder.

I have the feeling that this is all very clear in your head, but the words are not transferring with clarity into my head. I'm left with a general idea of your intent, but would really like it to hit me between the ears a little harder.

Thanks for the read!
... Mark

[Genuinebloke]

Four sets of highly constructive comments, thank you. Clearly there was a need to clarify key areas of the poem. Hopefully the edited version goes some way towards this, while retaining the strengths that were highlighted.

[Achebe]

the revised version is a train wreck. it can kill baby deer.
the original was pretty good, just needed a few tweaks here and there.
take any crit with a tonne of NaCl.
delete!! delete!! delete!!

[Genuinebloke]

Much time. Some thought. A few tweaks.

[Achebe]

still think the 'original' in the post above is significantly better. some very good phrases that are no longer there:
1. notes of almost summer
2. shrinking shadow of her scent

the one change that is definitely for the better in this one is 'witnesses at an accident'