(Addresses Self-Harm/Abuse) She'll One Day Forge Beauty - Edit 1

[mrweiner]

She'll One Day Forge Beauty

Six-year-old girls shouldn't
need to place their sadness
between their toes 
and the heavy intent of a hammer

striking at anguish
brought blue hot by bourbon blows
and neglect. Their little digits
lack the temper of anvils

and while the blacksmith 
celebrates his sweat 
upon hissing iron into oil,
muffled cries do little 

to quench 
the misery 
    of a girl
    so troubled 
        of mind 
        so brittle
            of thought
            constructed 
                of confusion

Original:

Forged By Father

Six-year-old girls shouldn't
need to place their sadness
between their toes 
and the business end of a hammer,

striking at anguish left 
red hot by bourbon blows and 
neglect. Their little digits
lack the temperment of anvils,

and while the blacksmith 
keeps a bucket of oil at hand
to harden his work,
muffled cries do little 

to quench the misery of one
with such limited understanding. 
I cannot comprehend the mind
of a girl so tortured,

or how she could learn
to hang up her hammer 
and forge a life for herself 
so beautiful as yours.

[Leanne]

Hello there Mr Weiner sir!  You have a quite confrontational poem here, and it's loaded with emotion so it's not an easy one to critique.  Please bear in mind these are criticisms always of the poem, not the poet or the subject.

Six-year-old girls shouldn't
need to place their sadness
between their toes 
and the business end of a hammer, -- this is a strong opening, immediately setting the scene in pain and conflict.  We assume, because she is six, that this is someone else inflicting pain on her at this point.  I am not convinced about "business end", as it seems a little too light and idiomatic.

striking at anguish left -- still thinking about this line break -- i.e. should "left" be left here? Also, is "left" the best choice of words?  
red hot by bourbon blows and -- this is the point at which I change my mind about who is weilding the hammer.  It seems as though despite being six, the girl has already suffered sufficient anguish to feel that she must inflict pain on herself.  This is when the heart breaks.
neglect. Their little digits
lack the temperment of anvils, -- *temperament or *temper, if it has been tempered

and while the blacksmith 
keeps a bucket of oil at hand -- this is a good analogy but I feel like you're missing a chance to put salt water and brittleness in here somewhere
to harden his work,
muffled cries do little 

to quench the misery of one
with such limited understanding. -- this line is a bit on the tell-y side
I cannot comprehend the mind -- I'm not convinced that bringing in the "I" works.  It shifts the tone quite a long way out of the mood you've worked so hard to establish and becomes a bit preachy.
of a girl so tortured,

or how she could learn
to hang up her hammer 
and forge a life for herself 
so beautiful as yours. -- personally I'd drop this line, or change it so that it doesn't make the poem so specific to just one person (even if it is -- after all, she will recognise herself anyway).  

[Wjames]

Six-year-old girls shouldn't
need to place their sadness
between their toes 
and the business end of a hammer,

striking at anguish left 
red hot by bourbon blows and I think the line breaks at the first two lines of this stanza are both a little weak (especially on "and"). I would also cut "hot" after red, "red hot" is somewhat cliche, and the colour red is hot without needing the extra word.
neglect. Their little digits
lack the temperment of anvils, typo on temperament. This is very strong stuff, though.

and while the blacksmith 
keeps a bucket of oil at hand 
to harden his work,
muffled cries do little 

to quench the misery of one
with such limited understanding. I like this: who is the one with limited understanding? 
I cannot comprehend the mind
of a girl so tortured,

or how she could learn
to hang up her hammer 
and forge a life for herself 
so beautiful as yours. I think the ending is a little weak compared to the rest. I like the idea of the person learning to forge a life for them-self, but I think it could be done with more subtlety. 

This is a really powerful poem. I don't like the title, though, it turned me off reading the poem a bit. I've read a bunch of poems about abuse, and a lot of them are angsty drivel (which this poem isn't). Maybe you could have the title help reveal the fact that the person is able to forge their own life?

[mrweiner]

Hello there Mr Weiner sir!  You have a quite confrontational poem here, and it's loaded with emotion so it's not an easy one to critique.  Please bear in mind these are criticisms always of the poem, not the poet or the subject. Of course!

Six-year-old girls shouldn't
need to place their sadness
between their toes 
and the business end of a hammer, -- this is a strong opening, immediately setting the scene in pain and conflict.  We assume, because she is six, that this is someone else inflicting pain on her at this point.  I am not convinced about "business end", as it seems a little too light and idiomatic. Good point. I think I'll end up going with something like "and the weight of a hammer", or "fall/swing/velocity/intent/something..."

striking at anguish left -- still thinking about this line break -- i.e. should "left" be left here? Also, is "left" the best choice of words?  Maybe "brought" or "sent".
red hot by bourbon blows and -- this is the point at which I change my mind about who is weilding the hammer.  It seems as though despite being six, the girl has already suffered sufficient anguish to feel that she must inflict pain on herself.  This is when the heart breaks.
neglect. Their little digits
lack the temperment of anvils, -- *temperament or *temper, if it has been tempered. Temperament, I think. I like playing with the idea of tempered/treated anvils and anvils having a strong, resilient temperament.

and while the blacksmith 
keeps a bucket of oil at hand -- this is a good analogy but I feel like you're missing a chance to put salt water and brittleness in here somewhere. Yes, I could certainly push the heartwrenchingness a little further, here.
to harden his work,
muffled cries do little 

to quench the misery of one
with such limited understanding. -- this line is a bit on the tell-y side. Originally had something more like "of the innocent" but that lacked some punch. Trying to convey that crying doesn't help a child to process what's happening.
I cannot comprehend the mind -- I'm not convinced that bringing in the "I" works.  It shifts the tone quite a long way out of the mood you've worked so hard to establish and becomes a bit preachy. Fair point. Do you think that leaving the sentiment but changing it to something like "one cannot comprehend", or do you think it's the fact that the voice is shifting away from our subject to somebody who cannot relate that makes it feel preachy?
of a girl so tortured,

or how she could learn
to hang up her hammer 
and forge a life for herself 
so beautiful as yours. -- personally I'd drop this line, or change it so that it doesn't make the poem so specific to just one person (even if it is -- after all, she will recognise herself anyway).  I'll give it some thought.

Six-year-old girls shouldn't
need to place their sadness
between their toes 
and the business end of a hammer,

striking at anguish left 
red hot by bourbon blows and I think the line breaks at the first two lines of this stanza are both a little weak (especially on "and"). I struggle with this concept of where to put words like and, but, and to. The end of the line feels weak, but the beginning of the following line feels weak as well. Seems hard to avoid since they're obviously linking two ideas to each other. I would also cut "hot" after red, "red hot" is somewhat cliche, and the colour red is hot without needing the extra word.
neglect. Their little digits
lack the temperment of anvils, typo on temperament. This is very strong stuff, though. Noted

and while the blacksmith 
keeps a bucket of oil at hand 
to harden his work, 
muffled cries do little 

to quench the misery of one
with such limited understanding. I like this: who is the one with limited understanding? I'm trying to refer to the girl, here, with her cries. Doesn't quite feel as effective as it could be.
I cannot comprehend the mind
of a girl so tortured,

or how she could learn
to hang up her hammer 
and forge a life for herself 
so beautiful as yours. I think the ending is a little weak compared to the rest. I like the idea of the person learning to forge a life for them-self, but I think it could be done with more subtlety. Yes I think the ending could certainly be a bit stronger.

This is a really powerful poem. I don't like the title, though, it turned me off reading the poem a bit. I've read a bunch of poems about abuse, and a lot of them are angsty drivel (which this poem isn't). Maybe you could have the title help reveal the fact that the person is able to forge their own life? Good idea. The title is somewhat of a placeholder for the moment. I guess I could avoid writing about some of the reveal if that is taken care of at the top.

Thank you both! Is it frowned upon here to post that I've created a new edit to the initial version? Still figuring out how things are done 'round these parts.

[Leanne]

We generally edit the original and post both in the OP. It's handy to have both versions available to compare at a glance

[Todd]

Hello mrweiner,

I decided not to read the earlier version or any of the comments so I could come at this fresh. I like the idea of this poem. I'm not sure that it fully works for me at present but I'd like to see it get there. Let me attempt to engage with it below and see if you if you can take something away from my comments as you work with it more.

She'll One Day Forge Beauty --Forge is such a versatile word. I very much like it here. The imediate context makes you think of producing something through heat and pressure. I think of the idea of overcoming adversity to produce something great. I'm led to the idea that we see reflected of the trials we survive making us something greater (reminiscent of a Hinds Feet on High Places narrative, or a Garry Wills Certain Trumpets idea). What make forge so cool though of word is the dual idea of forging a check or a painting (if we're going with beauty). The idea that there's a fragile web creating with our idea of beauty that can be undone by a bit of scrutiny. There's also the interesting idea that its the person forging their own beauty through what they suffer. That despite the narrative of the poem, the girl is wielding her own hammer. I wonder it the promise of the title will be ultimately true, but there is a sort of hope here. In any event, it's an interesting starting point.

Six-year-old girls shouldn't--Good line break. Good starting point. There is a sense here of both adult correction in the choice of the break and also the competing idea that things like what is coming shouldn't happen. We have a protective vulnerability that rises up in the idealized idea and sense of innocence and experience we want a six year old girl to have all packed in here. 
need to place their sadness
between their toes--This is a vulnerable image. I like the this fragile idea of a hiding place. I like that the six year old has nothing truly protecting them. 
and the heavy intent of a hammer--This is a sword of damocles image. There may be a need to add some balanced under languge--but it all works for me here. The ripening sense of implyed violence is better than actual violence. Here's the issue and the problem you'll have from this point moving forward--sublty and implication will hold the most power. Showing the monster too early or at all will defuse too much tension. Great strophe here though for building tension. It's worth noting.

striking at anguish
brought blue hot by bourbon blows
and neglect. Their little digits
lack the temper of anvils--You lose a bit with this strophe. It's difficult, because things need to move forward. Striking at anguish is a bit too tell and not show. It's a bit too obvious. Same with bourbon blows and neglect. I like the the last part of this. I think I would prefer more build up and implication earlier. I'm not sure how I'd want the phasing something more minimal and more at an angle.  I like blue hot rather than white hot. Maybe a stacked blue hot heat haze...maybe fumes of bourbon. Anything that maintains the subtlty a bit more. More buildup still, more tension.

and while the blacksmith 
celebrates his sweat --I don't mind the personification here of the blacksmith 
upon hissing iron into oil,--The sound is nice I like this line and the next quite a bit.
muffled cries do little 

to quench 
the misery 
    of a girl
    so troubled 
        of mind 
        so brittle
            of thought
            constructed 
                of confusion--This sequence feels like a letdown. I want more raised stakes. i want a hint of the title's promise in the ending--only a hint but it needs to be there. I'm not trying to point you to another poem and diminish yours by comparison but perhaps consider the shapeshiter poems by Lucille Cliftton and readdress your ending some.

I felt let down some. There's a ton of promise here. I hope my comments conveyed what I was getting at, and ultimately I hope they helped some.

Best,

Todd

[mrweiner]

Hello mrweiner,

I decided not to read the earlier version or any of the comments so I could come at this fresh. I like the idea of this poem. I'm not sure that it fully works for me at present but I'd like to see it get there. Let me attempt to engage with it below and see if you if you can take something away from my comments as you work with it more.

She'll One Day Forge Beauty --Forge is such a versatile word. I very much like it here. The imediate context makes you think of producing something through heat and pressure. I think of the idea of overcoming adversity to produce something great. I'm led to the idea that we see reflected of the trials we survive making us something greater (reminiscent of a Hinds Feet on High Places narrative, or a Garry Wills Certain Trumpets idea). What make forge so cool though of word is the dual idea of forging a check or a painting (if we're going with beauty). The idea that there's a fragile web creating with our idea of beauty that can be undone by a bit of scrutiny. There's also the interesting idea that its the person forging their own beauty through what they suffer. That despite the narrative of the poem, the girl is wielding her own hammer. I wonder it the promise of the title will be ultimately true, but there is a sort of hope here. In any event, it's an interesting starting point.

You've got some great thoughts, here! (To critique the critique, ha)

Six-year-old girls shouldn't--Good line break. Good starting point. There is a sense here of both adult correction in the choice of the break and also the competing idea that things like what is coming shouldn't happen. We have a protective vulnerability that rises up in the idealized idea and sense of innocence and experience we want a six year old girl to have all packed in here. 
need to place their sadness
between their toes--This is a vulnerable image. I like the this fragile idea of a hiding place. I like that the six year old has nothing truly protecting them. 
and the heavy intent of a hammer--This is a sword of damocles image. There may be a need to add some balanced under languge--but it all works for me here. The ripening sense of implyed violence is better than actual violence. Here's the issue and the problem you'll have from this point moving forward--sublty and implication will hold the most power. Showing the monster too early or at all will defuse too much tension. Great strophe here though for building tension. It's worth noting.

Glad the first stanza comes across well to you! Your thoughts largely echo mine

striking at anguish
brought blue hot by bourbon blows
and neglect. Their little digits
lack the temper of anvils--You lose a bit with this strophe. It's difficult, because things need to move forward. Striking at anguish is a bit too tell and not show. It's a bit too obvious. Same with bourbon blows and neglect. I like the the last part of this. I think I would prefer more build up and implication earlier. I'm not sure how I'd want the phasing something more minimal and more at an angle.  I like blue hot rather than white hot. Maybe a stacked blue hot heat haze...maybe fumes of bourbon. Anything that maintains the subtlty a bit more. More buildup still, more tension.

Hadn't considered that it might be too straight to the point. That's true, though, the first two lines are much more literal than the following 2 or previous stanza. I think it'll be easier to shade the "blows and neglect" than it will be for "striking". I'll give it some thought. 

and while the blacksmith 
celebrates his sweat --I don't mind the personification here of the blacksmith 
upon hissing iron into oil,--The sound is nice I like this line and the next quite a bit.
muffled cries do little 

to quench 
the misery 
    of a girl
    so troubled 
        of mind 
        so brittle
            of thought
            constructed 
                of confusion--This sequence feels like a letdown. I want more raised stakes. i want a hint of the title's promise in the ending--only a hint but it needs to be there. I'm not trying to point you to another poem and diminish yours by comparison but perhaps consider the shapeshiter poems by Lucille Cliftton and readdress your ending some.

No worries on the comparison, I'll certainly take a read. It's been a long time since I've read any poetry prior to the last few weeks, so any and all suggestions are welcome. Not to bring up the first draft since you were trying to keep perspective, but initially I had a different title and the hope was pulled in in the final stanza. The re-working was taking that out and pulling it to the title, but I guess maybe it still needs to be addressed in the end since now it's expected but missing.

I was trying to play with the idea that the sequence could be read in a handful of ways, and that the run-on nature might mirror the thoughts of the character. Did those translate at all? I guess it's a softer set of lines than the build-up, so in that way it doesn't really act as the climax that it should.

The proper path is probably somewhere between this and my initial idea, with the punch of the rest of the poem added in. I'm coming to realize that the endings of my poems are always the weakest points. I get on a roll developing the ideas but don't really know how to close them out. The ideas kind of develop stream-of-consciousness so I don't know my destination once I get there. 

I felt let down some. There's a ton of promise here. I hope my comments conveyed what I was getting at, and ultimately I hope they helped some.

Best,

Todd

I really appreciate the feedback. Your comments are valuable and will certainly be considered for my next edit.