How We Have Changed (Revision 1.2)

[Todd]

Revision 1.2

I watch you sleeping,
nestled in the depression
of the bed that my body left
huddling for a warmth I no longer feel.
Has this space between us always been
a part of me? The moon leaches
light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire; I settle
into the darkness of our small room.
The sallow light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
immutable in amber.
The slats of the blinds rattle
in the night breeze, and their shadows
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity.

~~
Very slight edits; additional edit 6/24: Tom's semicolon...thinking about the rest.


Revision

I watch you sleeping,
nestled in the depression
of the bed, that my body left,
in a lingering warmth I no longer feel.
Has this chill always been
a part of me? The moon leaches
light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire, and I settle 
into the darkness of our small room.
The sallow light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
immutable in amber.
The slats of the blinds rattle 
in the night breeze, and their shadows 
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity.

~~
Edit 1: LizzieP, Achebe, Kolemath: Made some changes from your feedback.

Original

I watch you while you sleep,
nestled into the depression
of the bed, that my body left,
a shared warmth I no longer feel.
Has this emptiness always been
a part of me? The moon leaches
the light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire, and I settle
into the darkness of our small room.
The pale light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
like a photograph, a captured moment.
The slats of the blinds rattle 
in the night breeze, and their shadows
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity.

~~

* A NaPM poem that I wanted to workshop.

[Lizzie]

I watch you while you sleep,
nestled into the depression -- I like the possible double meaning here -- could be describing the bed or the mood of the room. 
of the bed, that my body left,
a shared warmth I no longer feel.
Has this emptiness always been 
a part of me? The moon leaches
the light from my skin like smoke -- I like how smoke ties in with depression, darkness, and shadows, and I like how the fire image ties in with "shared warmth." However, I can't quite get this image to gel because smoke rises up naturally but the image is of vitality being involuntarily suctioned.
rising from a fire, and I settle -- your line breaks are strong: "settle" and "leaches" both highlight the discontent.
into the darkness of our small room. -- I like the allusion to "walls closing in"
The pale light rests on you, -- it's interesting that the light here seems nurturing for this character while the moonlight "leaches" from the protagonist. Seems like the moon leaches because it has no light of its own and then gifts that light to another. A bit unfair, in my view!
holds you motionless,
like a photograph, a captured moment. -- "photograph" was a bit expected for me, but "captured" does play into the captivity theme. You could replace the line and say just "a still frame" after motionless.
The slats of the blinds rattle -- this is my favorite part, because the rattling makes me think of chains. It's almost ominous. 
in the night breeze, and their shadows 
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity. -- It's a great twist that both characters are held captive.

Loved spending time with this! Thanks for sharing.

lizziep

[Achebe]

I don't remember this one from NaPM, probably because the fantastic one you wrote about the noise of a falling chair fading into a point obliterated the memory of everything else. But a neat little poem, and a good one to workshop.

I watch you while you sleep, ....the two 'you's jar
nestled into the depression ....shouldn't it be 'nestled in'? I suppose you meant nestled in / rolled into, but the word is mildly distracting
of the bed, that my body left,
a shared warmth I no longer feel. ....feeling the warmth of the depression comes across as a bit loose. Perhaps you meant 'whose shared warmth'?
Has this emptiness always been
a part of me? The moon leaches
the light from my skin like smoke ....while I love the sound of 'leaches / light / like smoke', I don't know what to make of 'leaching like smoke from fire', burning being the opposite of leaching. Besides, the moon is reflecting off your skin, whereas leaching implies dissolution of the underlying substrate.  
rising from a fire, and I settle 
into the darkness of our small room. ... I love the entire section from 'The moon to here'. There's mild assonance in Settle / darkneSS / Small...the 's'  and 'n' sounds are nice, and the enjambment is quite natural.
The pale light rests on you, ...'pale light' is a cliche, but I can't think of a substitute here
holds you motionless,
like a photograph, a captured moment.
The slats of the blinds rattle 
in the night breeze, and their shadows 
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity. ...I love the sudden, arresting image at the end. The reader's eye goes naturally over to the next line - probably because of the preceding enjambments - and finds a nothingness after. It's exquisite.

~~

* A NaPM poem that I wanted to workshop.

[kolemath]

Profound meditation, Todd.  Thanks for sharing. -Kole

I watch you while you sleep, to achebe's point, 'i watch you sleeping' might be more concise and keeps the iamb
nestled into the depression
of the bed, that my body left,
a shared warmth I no longer feel. I get this line, but it doesn't capture the intended contrast; i infer it means 'a warmth that was once shared' (which doesn't sound right either) but this poem is such a meditation on the present moment, 'shared warmth' feels like a present moment to my reading, like 'nestled into the depression' is present. how can you capture the warmth ( and loss thereof, both a past tense moments) more clearly?
Has this emptiness always been maybe instead of emptiness, something that contrasts with warmth?
a part of me? The moon leaches
the light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire, and I settle i love these images. they don't exactly fit together, moon leaching, fire expelling smoke, but this is a moment of disorient to the speaker, so the mixed metaphors work for me; they're very interesting
into the darkness of our small room.
The pale light rests on you,
holds you motionless, smart personification of light here
like a photograph, a captured moment.
The slats of the blinds rattle 
in the night breeze, and their shadows 
cover you in bars. I feel the hair my favorite lines
on my arms bristle at the captivity. wow. happy to have her trapped, even if there isn't warmth. sinister. brilliant.

~~

* A NaPM poem that I wanted to workshop.

[Todd]

Thank you, all I appreciate the time everyone took to read and comment.

LizzieP: Thank you for the phenomenal close read and for letting me know what came across to you. I'll give some thought to the photograph line, and some of the interplay with light and smoke. Much appreciated!

Achebe: Thanks. I'll eventually get around to working the falling chair poem. I'm just going through my last few years of NaPm to see what should be worked. I'll take the note on the two 'you's. I agree on the in vs into. Glad the sonics and ending are working for you. I noticed pale light too and decided to still post as I hadn't thought of anything else I liked better yet--but it won't survive the next revision. Appreciate the feedback. Best

Kolemath: Nice solution to line one. Like your comments around warmth (Achebe touched on some of this too). I'll give some thought to that part. I liked and will consider the emptiness as maybe instead a coldness of sorts. Thank you for walking me through your interactions with the poem. All very helpful. Best

[kolemath]

[quote='Todd' pid='212480' dateline='1466548256']
Revision

I watch you sleeping,
nestled in the depression
of the bed, that my body left,
in a lingering warmth I no longer feel. I think the revision reads more clearly, but my reading still has some trouble with the 'body left' and 'no longer feel' ideas. if the warmth is lingering but you can't feel it, how do you know its there? also, comma rules (make'em or break'em) state that the essential relative clause not be offset with commas (translation: no commas surrounding 'that my body left'))
Has this chill always been chill is better for the metaphor, but as i sit and chill with your poem, the word doesn't feel like the best choice
a part of me? The moon leaches
light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire, and I settle 
into the darkness of our small room.
The sallow light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
immutable in amber. interesting language here; amber makes me think of sunset. does it fit for a description of night?
The slats of the blinds rattle 
in the night breeze, and their shadows 
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity.

Again, the second half of the poem is quite good.

Overall the edit is going in the right direction.  A quick thought the title, it might be interesting to play with the ambiguity of the exclamative 'how we have changed!' and the nominal which explains 'how we have changed' while the poem explores the former, i'm not sure it does the same for the latter. might a revision indeed explore how the change happened? maybe this would clear up the bedleft/warm/chill sections

Thanks, Todd!

[Todd]

Thanks for coming back. I sometimes play to loose with commas (I keep just thinking of the half beat of them and allow myself to get sloppy with actual use) so you're of course right. 

As to lingering warmth, I get what you're saying. I guess I would say the speaker knows it's there because he's recently vacated the spot and knows that he has warmed that section of sheet with his body. Though you are correct in that he isn't physically feeling it (so I'll give it some more thought). Not a defense of the language just trying to engage the points you raise.

Chill felt better than emptiness to me and I don't want to use ennui. I do agree with you though that it feels closer but not correct yet.

Appreciate the comments,

Todd 

[quote='Todd' pid='212480' dateline='1466548256']
Revision

I watch you sleeping,
nestled in the depression
of the bed, that my body left,
in a lingering warmth I no longer feel. I think the revision reads more clearly, but my reading still has some trouble with the 'body left' and 'no longer feel' ideas. if the warmth is lingering but you can't feel it, how do you know its there? also, comma rules (make'em or break'em) state that the essential relative clause not be offset with commas (translation: no commas surrounding 'that my body left'))
Has this chill always been chill is better for the metaphor, but as i sit and chill with your poem, the word doesn't feel like the best choice
a part of me? The moon leaches
light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire, and I settle 
into the darkness of our small room.
The sallow light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
immutable in amber. interesting language here; amber makes me think of sunset. does it fit for a description of night?
The slats of the blinds rattle 
in the night breeze, and their shadows 
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity.

Again, the second half of the poem is quite good.

Overall the edit is going in the right direction.  A quick thought the title, it might be interesting to play with the ambiguity of the exclamative 'how we have changed!' and the nominal which explains 'how we have changed' while the poem explores the former, i'm not sure it does the same for the latter. might a revision indeed explore how the change happened? maybe this would clear up the bedleft/warm/chill sections

Thanks, Todd!

[Todd]

Made some slight changes. Hopefully they help.

[Lizzie]

Revision

I watch you sleeping,
nestled in the depression
of the bed, that my body left,
in a lingering warmth I no longer feel. -- I actually liked that the speaker is making an assumption about the emotional temperature on the other side of the bed -- it reveals how the main character perceives the other (perhaps comfortable with the status quo? basking in stolen glow? we don't get to know). It hints at a greener grass mentality and maybe also sadness or resentment; after all, the narrator made the depression with their own body and they don't even get to enjoy the warmth of that. They are kicked over to the cold side! 
Has this chill always been -- I feel like this is the backstory, even though it's just a question. I like the mystery of not knowing, but that's just personal preference. I can see how you would want to use something with more of a punch. Words can be so inadequate 
a part of me? The moon leaches
light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire, and I settle 
into the darkness of our small room.
The sallow light rests on you, -- makes me think of sickness or aging
holds you motionless,
immutable in amber. -- these three lines give me an angle that I didn't see before, the inaccessible quality of the other person. Gives this chasm a sense of finality.
The slats of the blinds rattle 
in the night breeze, and their shadows 
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity. -- I don't know if I see the main character as sinister (although, I did get that sense on my very first read of line one! Ha!), but there is a sense that perhaps nature (the sallow light) or modern life (the shadows of the blinds) is somehow conspiratorial. I interpreted the "bristling" as either fear or anger. Either way, the ambivalent quality of desire is highlighted: the hunter wants to hunt but also to have the certainty of the next meal.

~~
Edit 1: LizzieP, Achebe, Kolemath: Made some changes from your feedback.

Original

I watch you while you sleep,
nestled into the depression
of the bed, that my body left,
a shared warmth I no longer feel.
Has this emptiness always been
a part of me? The moon leaches
the light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire, and I settle
into the darkness of our small room.
The pale light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
like a photograph, a captured moment.
The slats of the blinds rattle 
in the night breeze, and their shadows
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity.

~~

* A NaPM poem that I wanted to workshop.

Your big ideas here are compelling, and they shine through beautifully.

[Todd]

LizzieP: Thank you for coming back and commenting on the revision. Again I appreciate your very close reading. It lets me know what's coming across. Your interactions with the poem are very helpful.

Best,

Todd

[tectak]

Nice stuff,todd. Only a few nits in text. This is workshopped out and it is polished.
Best,
tectak

Revision 1.1

I watch you sleeping, I kind of want "watch" to be "watched" to tally with "nestled" Nit only. Nice opener if a long one sentence wise.
nestled in the depression
of the bed that my body left
huddling for a warmth I no longer feel. I can see a construction error here. The inability to "feel" the warmth is not because  of a sensory lack but a lack of warmth...so should it be "...huddling for warmth that is no longer there"?
Has this space between us always been
a part of me? The moon leaches
light from my skin like smoke Fine words and poignant. That conjunction, though, leads to concomitantly in to the  "settle" scenario and by so linking weakens the sentence.Opinion only, but how about dropping the "and" in favour of a semicolon?
rising from a fire, and I settle
into the darkness of our small room.
The sallow light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
immutable in amber.
The slats of the blinds rattle
in the night breeze, and their shadows
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity. Not sure about "the" captivity. Makes captivity objectively what the close is all about...is it not about YOUR captivity?

~~
Very slight edits


Revision

I watch you sleeping,
nestled in the depression
of the bed, that my body left,
in a lingering warmth I no longer feel.
Has this chill always been
a part of me? The moon leaches
light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire, and I settle 
into the darkness of our small room.
The sallow light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
immutable in amber.
The slats of the blinds rattle 
in the night breeze, and their shadows 
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity.

~~
Edit 1: LizzieP, Achebe, Kolemath: Made some changes from your feedback.

Original

I watch you while you sleep,
nestled into the depression
of the bed, that my body left,
a shared warmth I no longer feel.
Has this emptiness always been
a part of me? The moon leaches
the light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire, and I settle
into the darkness of our small room.
The pale light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
like a photograph, a captured moment.
The slats of the blinds rattle 
in the night breeze, and their shadows
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity.

~~

* A NaPM poem that I wanted to workshop.

[Todd]

Thank you Tom. I'll definitely take some of the notes. I'm thinking about a few of the other points you raised (it will probably take time and distance to determine the next revision. I'll probably step away from this one for awhile.

Appreciate the feedback,

Todd

[RiverNotch]

Revision 1.2

I watch you sleeping,
nestled in the depression I avoided this poem like the plague once I got to this line, not because I knew it would be bad, but because I knew this would be emotional, and as I was reading this, I was riding a high I'd rather kept going. And I must say, there's a feeling of the cliched in these first two lines, but still, effective.
of the bed that my body left
huddling for a warmth I no longer feel. Construction of the sentence quite weird here. Who is nestled -- "my body left" says it's the watched, but then "huddling for a warmth I no longer feel" says it's the watcher. Here's my preferred: "I watch you sleeping, / nestled in the depression / of the bed that my body left / as it huddled for a warmth I did not feel."
Has this space between us always been If huddling is converted to past tense, possibly a better change would be "this" to "the", but that would be less close, wouldn't it? "I watch you sleeping, /[the two of us[?]] nestled in the depression / in the bed that my body leaves / as it huddles for a warmth I do not feel."?
a part of me? The moon leaches 
light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire; I settle I like 'and'. Adds fluidity, plus echoes L14.
into the darkness of our small room.
The sallow light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
immutable in amber. Possible weirdness: breaking off the parallelism makes the light itself immutable in amber. But meh, that's a silly nit.
The slats of the blinds rattle
in the night breeze, and their shadows
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity. I prefer "the hairs of my arm", as it makes the line break more fluid.

The title also somewhat accentuates that "so-universal-it-might-be-cliched" feeling I got with those first two lines, which is why I'd rather see it changed, though I have no suggestions. Otherwise, really good, in the quietest, really loveliest, way --- reminds me a lot of winter, of moonlight, of smoky nights and Bjork's Vespertine, but ultimately much older, or perhaps simply more detached --- it's almost like something from Louise Gluck's Descending Figure, only almost in that it feels to me particularly masculine.

[Achebe]

The sallow light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
immutable in amber.   

I love 'immutable in amber - suggestive of perfection (perfect preservation), the death and fossilisation of feelings, an eternal trap, etc - the meanings are varied and profound.

[Todd]

Revision 1.2

I watch you sleeping,
nestled in the depression I avoided this poem like the plague once I got to this line, not because I knew it would be bad, but because I knew this would be emotional, and as I was reading this, I was riding a high I'd rather kept going. And I must say, there's a feeling of the cliched in these first two lines, but still, effective.
of the bed that my body left
huddling for a warmth I no longer feel. Construction of the sentence quite weird here. Who is nestled -- "my body left" says it's the watched, but then "huddling for a warmth I no longer feel" says it's the watcher. Here's my preferred: "I watch you sleeping, / nestled in the depression / of the bed that my body left / as it huddled for a warmth I did not feel."
Has this space between us always been If huddling is converted to past tense, possibly a better change would be "this" to "the", but that would be less close, wouldn't it? "I watch you sleeping, /[the two of us[?]] nestled in the depression / in the bed that my body leaves / as it huddles for a warmth I do not feel."?
a part of me? The moon leaches 
light from my skin like smoke
rising from a fire; I settle I like 'and'. Adds fluidity, plus echoes L14.
into the darkness of our small room.
The sallow light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
immutable in amber. Possible weirdness: breaking off the parallelism makes the light itself immutable in amber. But meh, that's a silly nit.
The slats of the blinds rattle
in the night breeze, and their shadows
cover you in bars. I feel the hair
on my arms bristle at the captivity. I prefer "the hairs of my arm", as it makes the line break more fluid.

The title also somewhat accentuates that "so-universal-it-might-be-cliched" feeling I got with those first two lines, which is why I'd rather see it changed, though I have no suggestions. Otherwise, really good, in the quietest, really loveliest, way --- reminds me a lot of winter, of moonlight, of smoky nights and Bjork's Vespertine, but ultimately much older, or perhaps simply more detached --- it's almost like something from Louise Gluck's Descending Figure, only almost in that it feels to me particularly masculine.

Hey RiverNotch, I appreciate all the comments and feedback. I'd already set this one down for a bit (probably 3-6 months to acquire some distance), so I will add your comments to the file I'm working from and readdress them then. Thank you again for the time you spent.

Much Appreciated,

Todd

[Todd]

The sallow light rests on you,
holds you motionless,
immutable in amber.   

I love 'immutable in amber - suggestive of perfection (perfect preservation), the death and fossilisation of feelings, an eternal trap, etc - the meanings are varied and profound.

Appreciate the comments, Achebe. I"m glad the amber change worked for you.

Best,

Todd