Her Life As A Poem

[Sparkydashforth]

She was big-boned,
yet her parts were delicate;
a fine-spun sprouting of prairie brome
threaded through
moss and engine block.

Her home was a pine and burlap shack
for wayward cats.
From her tangled porch
she would discourse on the art of life.
Poems grew in small pots
muddled with Ramen noodles and moth wings.

Her life often vacationed to a studio apartment
on the East bank of her right eye,
where she sought more windmills to charge.
She wrote on the back of her mouth
with cigarette smoke.
Her poems were the rain-filled footprints,
of Jack Kerouac.

She had letters before
and after her name;
a fame made legendary
by all the gaps and pauses
she shrewdly refused to fill in.

[Lizzie]

Hi Sparky. I'm ready to give you some comments on this one:

She was big-boned,
yet her parts were delicate; -- I'd just do a comma here, since what follows is not a complete sentence on its own.
a fine-spun sprouting of prairie brome -- love this image, completely fresh
threaded through
moss and engine block. -- as I understand the image, it's something more delicate threaded through something solid, but moss seems delicate too, so I'm not sure that moss is the right choice to pair with engine block.

Her home was a pine and burlap shack
for wayward cats. -- great 'a' sounds in these two lines
From her tangled porch
she would discourse on the art of life.
Poems grew in small pots -- love this
muddled with Ramen noodles and moth wings. -- I don't love muddled, maybe because it sounds like mud and I don't want mud on my Ramen noodles.

Her life often vacationed to a studio apartment -- Is this a soft and solid contrast, with the previous setting being soft? If so, I'd add other details that bring out the strong, energetic vibe of the city to make that difference pop. Otherwise, the change of venue feels disorienting.
on the East bank of her right eye,
where she sought more windmills to charge. -- I'm not getting how the windmills connect. Studio apartment makes me think city, and windmills make me think country.
She wrote on the back of her mouth
with cigarette smoke. -- nice
Her poems were the rain-filled footprints, -- I don't think you need the comma here
of Jack Kerouac. -- I like that there's a difference in energy between the poems produced in the previous stanza and here, goes along with the change in venue. Still, overall, this strophe lacks clarity for me.

She had letters before
and after her name; -- I don't like the semi colon here either, although with what follows it's technically appropriate. But, a comma would suffice, and it doesn't make as pronounced a break.
a fame made legendary -- don't like the passive voice here, doesn't fit with the image of the strong self that's portrayed in the final lines.
by all the gaps and pauses
she shrewdly refused to fill in. -- I'm on the fence about shrewdly. The sonics are great, but I don't like limiting the interpretation of her refusal to shrewdness. It feels like the word is there for the sonics, because I don't think that shrewdness would really be the cause of that refusal (maybe more like independence, spiciness, a desire to be unique, to not be determined by societal expectations, etc.). I think the phrase is much stronger as 'she refused to fill in.' My two cents. And, I love this ending and the sentiment, btw.

I love where (I think) this is going. I would work on making the images clearer and internally consistent. The beginning and ending are strong -- I would recommend letting those ideas lead the way. I see those ideas being the strong/soft contrast and the confident self-acceptance of the ending.

Good stuff in here.

[Sparkydashforth]

Hi Lizziep, great to get feedback on this. Thank you.

I posted this poem on this forum because I am well aware that the style is not everyone's cup of tea.
It is largely put together by word association with minimal amounts of logical progression.
Sometimes this mode works - sometimes it don't!  Occasionally I like to write in this style for it
allows me to be more surreal and free flowing.

Having said that, this one needs work, and I am grateful to you for the line by line edit.
Lots to consider here, and I will wait for more critiques before leaping to revise just yet.

Much obliged to you for giving this such a rigorous once over.

Hi Sparky. I'm ready to give you some comments on this one:

She was big-boned,
yet her parts were delicate; -- I'd just do a comma here, since what follows is not a complete sentence on its own.
a fine-spun sprouting of prairie brome -- love this image, completely fresh
threaded through
moss and engine block. -- as I understand the image, it's something more delicate threaded through something solid, but moss seems delicate too, so I'm not sure that moss is the right choice to pair with engine block.

Her home was a pine and burlap shack
for wayward cats. -- great 'a' sounds in these two lines
From her tangled porch
she would discourse on the art of life.
Poems grew in small pots -- love this
muddled with Ramen noodles and moth wings. -- I don't love muddled, maybe because it sounds like mud and I don't want mud on my Ramen noodles.

Her life often vacationed to a studio apartment -- Is this a soft and solid contrast, with the previous setting being soft? If so, I'd add other details that bring out the strong, energetic vibe of the city to make that difference pop. Otherwise, the change of venue feels disorienting.
on the East bank of her right eye,
where she sought more windmills to charge. -- I'm not getting how the windmills connect. Studio apartment makes me think city, and windmills make me think country.
She wrote on the back of her mouth
with cigarette smoke. -- nice
Her poems were the rain-filled footprints, -- I don't think you need the comma here
of Jack Kerouac. -- I like that there's a difference in energy between the poems produced in the previous stanza and here, goes along with the change in venue. Still, overall, this strophe lacks clarity for me.

She had letters before
and after her name; -- I don't like the semi colon here either, although with what follows it's technically appropriate. But, a comma would suffice, and it doesn't make as pronounced a break.
a fame made legendary -- don't like the passive voice here, doesn't fit with the image of the strong self that's portrayed in the final lines.
by all the gaps and pauses
she shrewdly refused to fill in. -- I'm on the fence about shrewdly. The sonics are great, but I don't like limiting the interpretation of her refusal to shrewdness. It feels like the word is there for the sonics, because I don't think that shrewdness would really be the cause of that refusal (maybe more like independence, spiciness, a desire to be unique, to not be determined by societal expectations, etc.). I think the phrase is much stronger as 'she refused to fill in.' My two cents. And, I love this ending and the sentiment, btw.

I love where (I think) this is going. I would work on making the images clearer and internally consistent. The beginning and ending are strong -- I would recommend letting those ideas lead the way. I see those ideas being the strong/soft contrast and the confident self-acceptance of the ending.

Good stuff in here.

[CRNDLSM]

Howdy!  

She was big-boned, 
yet her parts were delicate; maybe a dash here?
a fine-spun sprouting of prairie brome since this is just another description of her without being it's own sentence.
threaded through
moss and engine block. This is a great description though

Her home was a pine and burlap shack sack? Shack is good.
for wayward cats. home for wayward kitties might be cliche 
From her tangled porch comma here?
she would discourse on the art of life.
Poems grew in small pots
muddled with Ramen noodles and moth wings.this is an interesting setting, self-referential if her life as a poem has poems growing in it?

Her life often vacationed to a studio apartment
on the East bank of her right eye,
where she sought more windmills to charge. don Quixote changed my life, very different from Kerouac.  or is it?
She wrote on the back of her mouth
with cigarette smoke.
Her poems were the rain-filled footprints,
of Jack Kerouac. the poems growing in her life as a poem are footprints, nice. definitely fits the wanderlust 

She had letters before
and after her name; this is my favorite part, lots of letters to choose from
a fame made legendary famous enough to have poems written of her poem gardening, not of her life not as a poem but her life as a poem
by all the gaps and pauses
she shrewdly refused to fill in.nice ending.

Good luck!

[Todd]

The conceit of the title makes this interesting to interpret and read through. Here are some comments for you.

She was big-boned,--I like the simple way of establishing the she of the poem.
yet her parts were delicate;--I'm not as much a fan of this line. I realize you want the contrast. It sort of reads like an abstract cold reading to me (FBI profiling: he likes to be alone but sometimes he enjoys a crowd). I realize it could just be me but if her life is a poem I want to be moved from moment to moment. I don't want a flat establishing line and then a description. I'd rather you moved more quickly into line 3 (which is really nice: I love each word of it prairie brome especially is so good).
a fine-spun sprouting of prairie brome
threaded through
moss and engine block.--This also provides a more visual contrast than line 2.

Her home was a pine and burlap shack--trying to imagine the burlap here. I'm picturing holes being patched by fabric. Sort of shake/makeshift tent. No issues with it.
for wayward cats.
From her tangled porch--Tangled makes this interesting. Makes me think of either shape or a sense of chaos and clutter or maybe plants growing through the boards.
she would discourse on the art of life.--I don't like discourse. I actually don't like art of life. This feels like a self-conscious line and a potential cut.
Poems grew in small pots--While I like this image. I don't like it for this poem. I don't like the title being her life as a poem and then have poems appear as seedlings. If you want it to be words, or dreams, or moonshine, or inspiration--great. Just not poems inside a poem conceit.
muddled with Ramen noodles and moth wings.

Her life often vacationed to a studio apartment--awkward phrasing for me and also seems to lose focus. I get it she shows different sides some more sophisticated. Is there another way to get here. Is there something in the shack that can point to this difference?
on the East bank of her right eye,
where she sought more windmills to charge.--I don't mind the allusion. I'd like to see you hit it at an angle and make it more uniquely yours while still holding the reference. Just a thought.
She wrote on the back of her mouth
with cigarette smoke.--I like these two lines quite a bit. Mostly I think for how transient it feels.
Her poems were the rain-filled footprints,
of Jack Kerouac.--Not a huge Kerouac fan but there are some things I like here. You get the On the Road thought that she drifts or travels. I love rain-filled footprints. I again don't like the poems reference.

She had letters before
and after her name;
a fame made legendary--Now we wonder it this is a particular person that might be well known.
by all the gaps and pauses--great line
she shrewdly refused to fill in.--and the ending is satisfying. You sort of move from expansive to clipped. Just an observation and it worked for me.

I'm not sure how helpful those comments will be but I hope they are to some extent.

Best,

Todd

[Sparkydashforth]

Many thanks Lizziep, great detailed critique which I can take much from.

I think a word of explanation might help here.  The subject of the poem,
is a person many of us might recognize.
She is a Midwest girl (could equally be a guy), who's spiritual home
might be San Francisco or Manhattan. However she lives a bohemian
semi-rural life in a shamble-down dwelling.
She is passionate about many liberal causes, and is a always part-time activist.
She is an artist that does not paint much.
She is a poet who hardly ever completed a poem. A good person
but easily distract by every passing issue and windmill.
Her poems are mostly not committed to paper or even virtual paper.
As such her real art is her highly individual life, and in this respect
she is to be applauded.

Love that you have incorporated subjective observations in this review,
but I am sure you will agree that subjectivity over words like "muddled'
might vary a lot from parson to person.

Your post is going to be very helpful to me when I come to revise this
less than perfect offering.

Thanks again.



 

quote='lizziep' pid='220635' dateline='1479491070']
Hi Sparky. I'm ready to give you some comments on this one:

She was big-boned,
yet her parts were delicate; -- I'd just do a comma here, since what follows is not a complete sentence on its own.
a fine-spun sprouting of prairie brome -- love this image, completely fresh
threaded through
moss and engine block. -- as I understand the image, it's something more delicate threaded through something solid, but moss seems delicate too, so I'm not sure that moss is the right choice to pair with engine block.

Her home was a pine and burlap shack
for wayward cats. -- great 'a' sounds in these two lines
From her tangled porch
she would discourse on the art of life.
Poems grew in small pots -- love this
muddled with Ramen noodles and moth wings. -- I don't love muddled, maybe because it sounds like mud and I don't want mud on my Ramen noodles.

Her life often vacationed to a studio apartment -- Is this a soft and solid contrast, with the previous setting being soft? If so, I'd add other details that bring out the strong, energetic vibe of the city to make that difference pop. Otherwise, the change of venue feels disorienting.
on the East bank of her right eye,
where she sought more windmills to charge. -- I'm not getting how the windmills connect. Studio apartment makes me think city, and windmills make me think country.
She wrote on the back of her mouth
with cigarette smoke. -- nice
Her poems were the rain-filled footprints, -- I don't think you need the comma here
of Jack Kerouac. -- I like that there's a difference in energy between the poems produced in the previous stanza and here, goes along with the change in venue. Still, overall, this strophe lacks clarity for me.

She had letters before
and after her name; -- I don't like the semi colon here either, although with what follows it's technically appropriate. But, a comma would suffice, and it doesn't make as pronounced a break.
a fame made legendary -- don't like the passive voice here, doesn't fit with the image of the strong self that's portrayed in the final lines.
by all the gaps and pauses
she shrewdly refused to fill in. -- I'm on the fence about shrewdly. The sonics are great, but I don't like limiting the interpretation of her refusal to shrewdness. It feels like the word is there for the sonics, because I don't think that shrewdness would really be the cause of that refusal (maybe more like independence, spiciness, a desire to be unique, to not be determined by societal expectations, etc.). I think the phrase is much stronger as 'she refused to fill in.' My two cents. And, I love this ending and the sentiment, btw.

I love where (I think) this is going. I would work on making the images clearer and internally consistent. The beginning and ending are strong -- I would recommend letting those ideas lead the way. I see those ideas being the strong/soft contrast and the confident self-acceptance of the ending.

Good stuff in here.
[/quote]

---

Hi Todd, as usual your detailed critique is very thoughtful and to the point.

Please see my explanatory remarks on Lizzieps post.

She is a bit of a cat-lady but I think I over did the burlap shack thing!

Lots to mull over here, and lots to consider come the revision.

Very much obliged to you for this fine review.

The conceit of the title makes this interesting to interpret and read through. Here are some comments for you.

She was big-boned,--I like the simple way of establishing the she of the poem.
yet her parts were delicate;--I'm not as much a fan of this line. I realize you want the contrast. It sort of reads like an abstract cold reading to me (FBI profiling: he likes to be alone but sometimes he enjoys a crowd). I realize it could just be me but if her life is a poem I want to be moved from moment to moment. I don't want a flat establishing line and then a description. I'd rather you moved more quickly into line 3 (which is really nice: I love each word of it prairie brome especially is so good).
a fine-spun sprouting of prairie brome
threaded through
moss and engine block.--This also provides a more visual contrast than line 2.

Her home was a pine and burlap shack--trying to imagine the burlap here. I'm picturing holes being patched by fabric. Sort of shake/makeshift tent. No issues with it.
for wayward cats.
From her tangled porch--Tangled makes this interesting. Makes me think of either shape or a sense of chaos and clutter or maybe plants growing through the boards.
she would discourse on the art of life.--I don't like discourse. I actually don't like art of life. This feels like a self-conscious line and a potential cut.
Poems grew in small pots--While I like this image. I don't like it for this poem. I don't like the title being her life as a poem and then have poems appear as seedlings. If you want it to be words, or dreams, or moonshine, or inspiration--great. Just not poems inside a poem conceit.
muddled with Ramen noodles and moth wings.

Her life often vacationed to a studio apartment--awkward phrasing for me and also seems to lose focus. I get it she shows different sides some more sophisticated. Is there another way to get here. Is there something in the shack that can point to this difference?
on the East bank of her right eye,
where she sought more windmills to charge.--I don't mind the allusion. I'd like to see you hit it at an angle and make it more uniquely yours while still holding the reference. Just a thought.
She wrote on the back of her mouth
with cigarette smoke.--I like these two lines quite a bit. Mostly I think for how transient it feels.
Her poems were the rain-filled footprints,
of Jack Kerouac.--Not a huge Kerouac fan but there are some things I like here. You get the On the Road thought that she drifts or travels. I love rain-filled footprints. I again don't like the poems reference.

She had letters before
and after her name;
a fame made legendary--Now we wonder it this is a particular person that might be well known.
by all the gaps and pauses--great line
she shrewdly refused to fill in.--and the ending is satisfying. You sort of move from expansive to clipped. Just an observation and it worked for me.

I'm not sure how helpful those comments will be but I hope they are to some extent.

Best,

Todd