Edit 6: Eventide

[alonso ramoran]

Eventide

In an artless time, my sister and I
chased dripping-wet seagulls
off the edge of the world, while Abuela
called to us with the crooning of sea
slushing on rock.

Muhly grass stirred and finer hair tossed
while we ran until the lullabies, heavy
as shells that we collected with Abuelo,
began to pull protesting eyelids down.

Night came and in the cottage, loose pajamas
still clung to skin, damp and redolent
of green apples and baby powder. Abuela,
in her pink silken gown and bifocals, read
a biography on Lincoln.

We were awake, still watching a cartoon
of a cat relentlessly chasing a mouse.
But with a glare past lowered glasses,
soft as the moon's, she commands a linen tide
we drift beneath and sleep. The shore outside
still singing and Abuelo, now snoring.

Then off went the lamp.

And at her dawn, you wandered in the west.
At their dusk, now I seek your cerulean sands
on this world or another. And only here does
old age come.

Edit 5: Eventide  

In an artless time, my sister and I  
chased dripping-wet seagulls off 
the edge of that world. Warm waves
crooned through our grandparents' lips,

making their calls to us seem as light  
as the currents of spray, blown from sea 
slushing on rock, that stirred Muhly grass  
and tossed finer hair.  

We ran until we met the aging day's  
drowsy tug—and we complied later on, 
when we hopped in the shower, ripened up,  
and dried off. We sprung on the bed, powdered  

in damp and tight pajamas, before watching  
a cartoon of a cat that always chases a mouse.  
Abuela, in her silken gown and bifocals, reads 
Abraham Lincoln's biography. Tonight,   

the moon's face resembles her soft disapproval 
of our late television consuming—to which  
we mind with the shore, snoring with Abuelo. 
Then off goes the lamp.  

A temporary stay at temporal ban.  

I confounded this thought with dreams  
and all a boy could experience, into  
warped meditation; and though its value  
is obscured, I am sure—out of love 
—that that evening exists, for when  
decrepitude comes.


Edit 4: Eventide

In an artless time, 
my sister and I chased  
dripping-wet seagulls 
off the edge of the world 
while the waves crooned 
through our Grandparents' lips, 
 
making their calls to us 
seem like sand on the wind 
    that stirred Muhly grass 
    and tossed finer hair, 
and the fragrance from sea
    slushing on rock. 
 
So we ran until we met  
the aging day's drowsy tug 
—to whom we complied when 
we hopped in the shower, 
ripened up, and got dry.  
 
We sprung on the bed before
watching cartoons of a cat 
endlessly chasing a mouse. Abuela,  
in her silken gown, reads 
Abraham Lincoln's biography. 
 
Tonight,
the moon's face resembles 
Abuela's soft disapproval 
of our late-night television consuming 
—to which we mind with the tides
that were snoring with Grandpa. 
Then off goes the lamp. 
 
A temporary stay at temporal ban. 
 
I confounded this thought 
with dreams and all a boy could experience, 
into warped meditation;
and though the value of this 
is blotted out, I am sure that
that evening was born 
out of love, for when 
our decrepitude comes.


Edit 3: Eventide

In an artless time, 
my sister and I chased  
dripping-wet seagulls 
off the edge of the world 
while the waves crooned 
through our Grandparents' lips, 
 
making their calls to us 
seem like sand on the wind 
    that stirred Muhly grass 
    and tossed finer hair, 
seem like the fragrance 
    from sea slushing on rock. 
 
So we ran until we met  
the aging day's drowsy tug 
—to whom we complied when 
we hopped in the shower, 
ripened up, and got dry.  
 
We sprung on the bed before
catching a cartoon where a cat 
endlessly chases a mouse. Abuela,  
in her silken gown, reads 
Abraham Lincoln's biography. 
 
Tonight,
the moon's face resembles 
Abuela's soft disapproval 
of our late-night television consuming 
—to which we minded with spring
tides that were snoring with Grandpa. 
Then off goes the lamp. 
 
A temporary stay at temporal ban. 
 
I confounded this thought 
with dreams and all a boy could experience, 
into warped meditation;
and though the value of this 
is blotted out, I am sure that
that evening was born 
out of love, for when
our decrepitude comes. 


Edit 2: Eventide 
 
In an artless time—
my sister and I chased
brine-dripping seagulls 
off the edge of the world 
while the waves crooned 
through our Grandparents' lips, 
 
making their calls to us 
seem like sand on the wind 
    that stirred Muhly grass 
    and tossed finer hair, 
seem like the fragrance 
    from sea slushing on rocks. 
 
We ran until we met  
the aging day's drowsy tug
— to whom we complied when
we hopped in the shower, 
  ripened up, 
    and got dry. We sprung
on the bed before catching
some episodes of Ed, Edd n Eddy. 
Abuela, in her silken gown, reads 
Abraham Lincoln's biography. 
Grandpa, who doesn't talk much, 
is fast in his sleep. Tonight 
the moon's face resembles 
Abuela's soft disapproval 
of our late-night television consuming 
— to which, of course, we comply 
with the ease of the 
shore's ever-sweet lullaby. 
Then off goes the lamp. 
 
A temporary stay at temporal ban. 
 
I confounded this thought 
with dreams and all a boy could experience, 
into warped meditation. 
And though the value of this 
is blotted out so beautifully, 
I am as sure as a stone is a stone: 
eventide at that beach was born 
out of love 
for when decrepitude comes. 


Edit 1: Eventide

In an artless time— my sister and I  
would chase brine-dripping gulls 
off the edge of the world 
while waves tenderly crooned 
through our Grandparents' lips,
 
making their calls to us
seem like sand on the wind 
    that stirred Muhly grass 
    and tossed finer hair, 
seem like the fragrance 
    from sea slushing rock. 

We ran, hopefully not on their patience,
till we met all-shades-of-blue's 
drowsy tug;
as it was time to settle down. 
To which we complied:
hopped in the shower, ripened up, and got dry.

We sprung on the bed before tuning into
the fantastical Blue's Foster Home cartoon.
Abuela, in her silken gown, reads
Abraham Lincoln's biography.
Grandpa, being not much of a talker,
is fast in his slumber. Tonight
the moon bears a face that resembles
Abuela's soft disapproval
of our late-night television consuming;
to which, of course, we comply
with the ease of the
shore's ever-sweet lullaby.
Then off goes the lamp.

A temporary stay at temporal ban.

I confounded this thought
with dreams and all a boy could experience,
into warped meditation.
And though the value of this
is blotted out so beautifully,
I am as sure as a stone is a stone:
eventide at that beach was born
out of love
for when decrepitude comes.


Eventide

I. The Beach
In an artless time 
Of chasing brine-dripping gulls
Alongside my sister, 
We found comfort in a song
The waves tenderly crooned  
Through our Grandparents' lips. 
 
Must've been why their calls 
Seemed like sand on the wind 
    which stirred Muhly grass 
    and tossed finer hair;
Seemed like the fragrance 
    from which sea slushes on rock.

Playing near the edge of that world- 
We run, hopefully not on their patience, 
Till we meet all-shades-of-blue's 
Drowsy tug;
As it is time to settle down. 
 
II. The Room
It's just like the sun to say
"Time to settle down",
But now it's hardly out, isn't it? 
So those words go to our grandparents; 
Of course, we comply:
Hop in the shower, ripen up, and dry off.

We sprung on our bed before tuning into
The fantastical Blue's Foster Home cartoon.
Abuela, in her silken gown, reads;
I believe it was
Abraham Lincoln's biography. 
Grandpa, being not much of a talker, 
Is fast in his slumber. Tonight,
The moon bears a face that resembles
Abuela's soft disapproval 
Of our late-night television consuming;
To which, of course, we comply 
With the ease of the 
Shore's ever-sweet lullaby. 
Then off goes the lamp. 
 
A temporary stay at temporal ban. 
 
I confounded this thought,
With dreams and all a boy could experience,
Into warped meditation. 
And though the value of this 
Is blotted out so beautifully, 
I am as sure as eggs are eggs:
Eventide of that beach was born 
Out of love 
For when decrepitude comes.

[ellajam]

First, a technical note:If you find a "copy without formatting" in your WP or copy first into a note pad it will make it easier for members to respond.

I like the title of Eventide, it's a lovely word and doubly appropriate for your beach scene. I don't think the  poem gains by being divided by titles, eventide sort of does that on its own. I find the section where you drop the capitalization of each line much more pleasant to read, I'm not sure what you think starting with and returning to it adds.

I. The Beach
Could dreams from the crib
And memories of my youth
Be blent into a silent chaos?
I'm not a fan of "be blent" and I question whether you need these three lines at all. I can understand that this is where the poem came from and what it examines but if the poem is successful it will elicit this question on its own.

In an artless time I like artless.
Of chasing brine-dripping gulls You might consider brine-dripped, or brine-dipped.
Alongside my sister,
I found comfort in the song
That the waves croon Tense confusion between found and croon.
From the lips of my  
Grandparents.
I like idea of the similarity between the ocean's and grandparents' calming effect.

Must've been why their calls Must've been why seems unnecessary to me, I'd prefer something else.
Seemed but the sand in the wind
 which stirred Muhly grass
 and tossed finer hair  
Seemed but the fragrance
 that salty sea slushes the rock. "the" seems off to me, possibly "on".
The above five lines are lovely.
We run, hopefully not on their patience, Fuzzy but interesting.
But run till we meet all-shades-of-blue's
Drowsy tug. Time to settle down.

II. The Room
Just as the sun would say
But it's hardly out, isn't it? This line is what the sun says? confusing.
So those words go to my grandparents;
Of course, we comply Possibly a colon here.
Hop in the shower, ripen up, and get dry. I like "ripen up", dry off might go well with it.
Then we would catch some cartoons; Bland, maybe a specific cartoon?
In her gown, grandma reads Possibly Grandma, in her gown, reads
Abraham Lincoln's biography.
Grandpa, quiet as he is,
Is already asleep.
These four lines are have an interesting effect, so simple and dry but aging them well in the common aging predicament of women sleeping less, men more.
Just as the sun would say Again, I've never figured out what the sun would say.
Of course, we comply
With the ease of the
Shore's ever-sweet lullaby.
Then off goes the lamp.

A temporary stay at temporal ban.
This is an interesting line, confused by the way stay can mean visit or arrest. I'm not sure if that is intentional. You could consider eliminating the white space below it.

I confounded this thought Confounded is fun here.
With dreams and existence,
Warped meditation.
And though the value of this
Is blotted out so beautifully,
I am as sure as eggs are eggs This could use a colon or a "that" before eventide.
Eventide at that beach was born
Out of love
For when decrepitude comes.
Thoughtful end.

Thanks for the read, good luck with it.

[alonso ramoran]

Hi ellajam,
thanks for the technical advice. I'll be sure to fix that. Working on revising it.

[nibbed]

Hi alexorande, I've read your poem several times. I see it as a sort of misty message, for some reason because it holds a lot of scattered thought. I don't know why, it is just there and my mentioning it is likely inappropriate. First, I wondered why you chose most of the lines to begin with capitals? I used to write all my poems like this, too, only because I saw others do it and it appeared to give the work a neater, more uniformed look, even seemed (to me) to help sharpen the format somehow. Your indentations are lovely in that they give the poem a beautiful look, overall, though they don't seem to offer any reason, though the lines chosen for this are very lovely and reflect a knack for poetic sound.



Eventide

I. The Beach
Could dreams from the crib 
And memories of my youth 
Be blent into a silent chaos?                        
 
In an artless time 
Of chasing brine-dripping gulls            
Alongside my sister,                      
I found comfort in the song                
That the waves crooned          
From the lips of my  
Grandparents. 
 
Must've been why their calls 
Seemed but the sand in the wind 
    which stirred Muhly grass                                  I like these two lines very much.
    and tossed finer hair;                            
Seemed but the fragrance 
    from which sea slushes on rock. 
We run, hopefully not on their patience, 
But run till we meet all-shades-of-blue's 
Drowsy tug. Time to settle down. 
 
II. The Room
Just as the sun would say-
"Time to settle down"
But it's hardly out, isn't it? 
So those words go to my grandparents; 
Of course, we comply:
Hop in the shower, ripen up, and get dry. 
Then we would tune into
The fantastical Blue's Foster Home cartoon 
Grandma, in her gown, reads
Abraham Lincoln's biography. 
Grandpa, quiet as he is, 
Is already asleep. 
Just as the moon would say
"Time to settle down"
Of course, we comply 
With the ease of the 
Shore's ever-sweet lullaby. 
Then off goes the lamp. 
 
A temporary stay at temporal ban.                     
 
I confounded this thought                                  I love when one captures true wisdom behind judgement
With dreams and existence,                                /non-judgement
Warped meditation. 
And though the value of this 
Is blotted out so beautifully, 
I am as sure as eggs are eggs                             a line everyone will want to steal.
Eventide at that beach was born 
Out of love 
For when decrepitude comes.                              a fitting end.


An interesting read I will come back to. I can relate in many ways to the "A temporal stay at a temporal band", though I don't like when my own lamp goes out, or gets dim, metaphorically speaking. The poem can be viewed from many different angles. Though I think it lacks a bit of needful clarity, it could be my interpretations and/or poor comprehension and need to review this work over again. Thank you kindly for the read.

nibbed

[Todd]

HI, here are some comments for you:

Eventide--I like the title for not only its meaning but the "tide" part which makes me think of an element of the beach.

I. The Beach
Could dreams from the crib 
And memories of my youth 
Be blent into a silent chaos? --This is subjective on my part but I think you need to pay much more attention to your openings. This compound question is a flat way to open a poem. There's also the fact that line 2 is vague and line 3 has the abstraction of silent chaos. I could live with some of that if the opening was more evocative. Hopefully, I won't be overstepping by giving you an example just to help with clarity (I'll keep most of your ideas intact except for L2 which is to vague to be salvageable in my opinion).

Crib dreams like blown sand
castles crumbling
into silent chaos

I would suggest moving from questions to an evocative image if you can.
 
In an artless time--I like artless time 
Of chasing brine-dripping gulls--probably dripped would be the better tense. Nice image 
Alongside my sister, 
I found comfort in the song 
That the waves crooned--I very much like crooned and this sequence the blending of song and crashing waves into memory.
From the lips of my--Not an effective line break here. Consider pulling Grandparents up. My isn't a strong enough word to hold the focus.  
Grandparents.
 
Must've been why their calls--You've already introduced crooned and song, calls is too much. Think about not drawing attention to the vehicle for the music anymore just focus on the effect. 
Seemed but the sand in the wind--These first two lines have some clunky phrasing. 
    which stirred Muhly grass 
    and tossed finer hair;--compact, lovely two lines here.
Seemed but the fragrance--line reads awkwardly. 
    from which sea slushes on rock.--lovely phrasing "sea slushes on rock" 
We run, hopefully not on their patience,--seems too self-aware for a child in the moment. This feels like adult remembering and clarification. I'd cut it. 
But run till we meet all-shades-of-blue's--Condensing the sequence to We run till we meet all shades-of-blue (probably lose the 's) would likely be stronger.
Drowsy tug. Time to settle down.--Instead of the second phrase, describe the action. 
 
II. The Room
It's just like the sun to say-
"Time to settle down"
But it's hardly out, isn't it? 
So those words go to my grandparents; 
Of course, we comply:
Hop in the shower, ripen up, and get dry. 
Then we would tune into
The fantastical Blue's Foster Home cartoon 
Grandma, in her gown, reads
Abraham Lincoln's biography. 
Grandpa, quiet as he is, 
Is already asleep.--I'm not sold on anything up to this point in this section. This has a and then this happened feel to it. 
Just as the moon would say--This line is the first one that drew me back.
"Time to settle down"--Not a strong enough refrain for the repetition.
Of course, we comply 
With the ease of the 
Shore's ever-sweet lullaby.--These two lines could be salvaged. 
Then off goes the lamp. --and then this happened (see what I'm saying?)
 
A temporary stay at temporal ban. 
 
I confounded this thought 
With dreams and existence, 
Warped meditation. 
And though the value of this 
Is blotted out so beautifully, 
I am as sure as eggs are eggs --Again this feels like it's trying to hard. I would consider cutting everything up to this line.
Eventide at that beach was born 
Out of love 
For when decrepitude comes.--These last three lines have some promise.

I know that's probably a bit much for mild. I hope it helps some.

Best,

Todd

[alonso ramoran]

Thanks for the feedback Todd! Made some tweaks with your critique in mind.

[billy]

a much better write than i'm capable of but as the reader i see some flaws. the poem worked well enough and had some fantastic original imagery, the ROOM stanza however felt too thick, {i'm struggling to express thick and i'm sorry for that}  im minded more of a tom sawyer paragraph of sorts than a stanza of poetry. all that said you have a good grasp of word use and originality and i will be definitely be reading anything else you write.

Eventide

I. The Beach
Dreams from the crib
And memories not so fine-tuned
Amalgamates into
A silent chaos.  is A needed? the opening weakens the poem for me, were i reading the poem in a book i would have passed over the rest of the poem and turned the page.

In an artless time
Of chasing brine-dripping gulls i like the sonic of time/brine
Alongside my sister,  and this for me creates an image that would have me continue reading. gulls and brine work well wit the title
I found comfort in a song
That the waves crooned
Through the lips of my Grandparents.

Must've been why their calls
Seemed but the sand in the wind feels awkward, a suggestion would be Like for But and [on the wind]
   which stirred Muhly grass
   and tossed finer hair; two solid like and a great image, i like how you formatted them in a manner that lends even more power the, lovely
Seemed but the fragrance feels awkawrd
   from which sea slushes on rock. the smell of sea via a great image
We run, hopefully not on their patience,
Till we meet all-shades-of-blue's
Drowsy tug. Time to settle down. i think this line needs more of an image/simile, as is it reads too disjointed.

II. The Room
It's just like the sun to say-
"Time to settle down"
But it's hardly out, isn't it?
So those words go to my grandparents;
Of course, we comply:
Hop in the shower, ripen up, and get dry.
Then we would tune into
The fantastical Blue's Foster Home cartoon
Abuela, in her silken gown, reads
Abraham Lincoln's biography.
Grandpa, being not much of a talker,
Is fast in his slumber. Tonight,
The moon bears a face that resembles
Abuela's soft disapproval
Of our late-night television consuming;
To which, of course, we comply
With the ease of the
Shore's ever-sweet lullaby.
Then off goes the lamp.  while there are some good images in this stanza i found it tough going.

A temporary stay at temporal ban.

I confounded this thought
With dreams and existence,
Warped meditation.
And though the value of this
Is blotted out so beautifully,
I am as sure as eggs are eggs: feels a bit forced and cliche, though it does show your POV
Eventide at that beach was born
Out of love
For when decrepitude comes.

[alonso ramoran]

Made another edit. Seems I just can't leave this poem alone lol

[Knot]

Hi alexorande
I think this is a nicely evoked memory of childhood that is just a bit overwritten/cluttered in places.
Enjoyed reading it.

In an artless time—
Nice opening
Don't understand the em dash
my sister and I chased
brine-dripping seagulls
'brine-dripping' seems to be trying to hard,
and rather undercuts the innocent youthful simplicity of 'my sister and I'.
off the edge of the world
nice
I think you could leave a space/line here; and that the piece be structured in four line verses.

while the waves crooned
through our Grandparents' lips,
making their calls to us
seem like sand on the wind

that stirred Muhly grass
and tossed finer hair,
seem like the fragrance
do you need 'seem' here?
from sea slushing on rocks.
('slushing' is rather unpoetic by comparison, perhaps 'slipping'?)

I like the thought underlying this section
but I don't think it is a well, or clearly, expressed
as it could be.
We ran until we met
the aging day's drowsy tug
— to whom we complied when
(Do you mean 'with which we complied'?)
we hopped in the shower,
ripened up,
and got dry.
We sprung on the bed
before catching some episodes
of Ed, Edd n Eddy.
(perhaps just 'the Eds'?)

Abuela, in her silken gown, reads
Abraham Lincoln's biography.
terrific detail
Grandpa, who doesn't talk much,
is fast in his sleep.
(are you trying to say 'quickly asleep'?)
Grandpa looks a bit short-changed by comparison
Tonight the moon's face
resembles Abuela's
soft disapproval
another excellent image.

of our late-night television consuming
— to which, of course, we comply
repetition of 'compliance', why?
with the ease of the
shore's ever-sweet lullaby.
Then off goes the lamp.
Not really as successful as the rest, could it not simply reduce to
'Then off goes the lamp'?

I'm not sure you need any of the lines below. They don't seem to add anything, and the central thought - 'was born out of love' - comes through and does not need to be explicitly stated.
A temporary stay at temporal ban.

I confounded this thought
with dreams and all a boy could experience,
into warped meditation.
And though the value of this
is blotted out so beautifully,
I am as sure as a stone is a stone:
eventide at that beach was born
out of love
for when decrepitude comes.
Hope this helps.

Best, Knot.

[alonso ramoran]

Hey Knot, some responses to your critique

Hi alexorande
I think this is a nicely evoked memory of childhood that is just a bit overwritten/cluttered in places.
Enjoyed reading it.

In an artless time—
Nice opening
Don't understand the em dash I wasn't sure about the em dash either. I feel I get a bit too em dash happy sometimes.
my sister and I chased
brine-dripping seagulls
'brine-dripping' seems to be trying to hard,
and rather undercuts the innocent youthful simplicity of 'my sister and I'. I agree with this
off the edge of the world
nice
I think you could leave a space/line here; and that the piece be structured in four line verses. Don't know about this. I want the piece to have a loose feel to it. I think the only time the piece having a loose feel becomes a problem is in the third stanza, which I feel goes on too long. Still trying to figure out how to solve that.

while the waves crooned
through our Grandparents' lips,
making their calls to us
seem like sand on the wind

that stirred Muhly grass
and tossed finer hair,
seem like the fragrance
do you need 'seem' here? I think I do, bc when rereading it, it sounds like I'm making a simile with the wind instead of their calls.
from sea slushing on rocks.
('slushing' is rather unpoetic by comparison, perhaps 'slipping'?) I'm pretty set on slushing, I like the sonics of it. Enjoyed the thought though!

I like the thought underlying this section
but I don't think it is a well, or clearly, expressed
as it could be. Ah, yes. This is where I feel things start getting cluttered and drawn out in the piece.
We ran until we met
the aging day's drowsy tug
— to whom we complied when
(Do you mean 'with which we complied'?) I wrote "to whom" because the day, which is the subject here, was personified.
we hopped in the shower,
ripened up,
and got dry.
We sprung on the bed
before catching some episodes
of Ed, Edd n Eddy.
(perhaps just 'the Eds'?) People won't know what I'm talking about. And I don't think anyone called the cartoon that, at least when I was a kid.

Abuela, in her silken gown, reads
Abraham Lincoln's biography.
terrific detail
Grandpa, who doesn't talk much,
is fast in his sleep.
(are you trying to say 'quickly asleep'?) Yes. I'll do some rewording here
Grandpa looks a bit short-changed by comparison Haha, it's just how he was! He's a quiet guy in comparison to my grandma. We love them all the same though. I think what you're getting at here is that he deserves a metaphor? I agree in that case. I think it was Todd who said it, but at this point, the piece seems to be having a "and then this happened" feel to it.
Tonight the moon's face
resembles Abuela's
soft disapproval
another excellent image.

of our late-night television consuming
— to which, of course, we comply
repetition of 'compliance', why? I'm drawing comparisons between the previously used "aging day" (nature in other words) and our grandparents, how we comply to both when it's bedtime.
with the ease of the
shore's ever-sweet lullaby.
Then off goes the lamp.
Not really as successful as the rest, could it not simply reduce to
'Then off goes the lamp'? It feels like I'm leaving stuff out.

I'm not sure you need any of the lines below. They don't seem to add anything, and the central thought - 'was born out of love' - comes through and does not need to be explicitly stated. Well this was the overall point of the poem: the contemplation of memories being dreams as a kid or an actual memory, then tossing that contemplation out the window. Without this, the poem is just a retelling of an assumed-by-the-audience memory. I'll toy around with these final stanzas.
A temporary stay at temporal ban.

I confounded this thought
with dreams and all a boy could experience,
into warped meditation.
And though the value of this
is blotted out so beautifully,
I am as sure as a stone is a stone:
eventide at that beach was born
out of love
for when decrepitude comes.
Hope this helps.

Best, Knot.

Thank you for your thoughts. They will be heavily considered in my next edit.

[Knot]

Hi alexorande

I think you could leave a space/line here; and that the piece be structured in four line verses.
Don't know about this. I want the piece to have a loose feel to it.
I think the only time the piece having a loose feel becomes a problem is in the third stanza, which I feel goes on too long.
Still trying to figure out how to solve that.
Just my opinion, but I think you've already got a loose feel anyway, arising from the 'simple' language and the long-ish sentences - what I would call a conversational tone. If nothing else, four lines might serve to help achieve the focus that is lacking in parts of S3 and S4.

do you need 'seem' here?
I think I do, bc when rereading it, it sounds like I'm making a simile with the wind instead of their calls.
I didn't have a problem following the simile.

(Do you mean 'with which we complied'?)
I wrote "to whom" because the day, which is the subject here, was personified.
I think my issue is with 'complied', as with 'brine-dripping' it seems out of place. I'd suggest something simpler like 'we did what we were told'

(perhaps just 'the Eds'?)
People won't know what I'm talking about.
And I don't think anyone called the cartoon that, at least when I was a kid.
I didn't know what you were talking about, but googling Ed, Edd n Eddy led straight to 'the Eds'.

Grandpa looks a bit short-changed by comparison
Haha, it's just how he was! He's a quiet guy in comparison to my grandma.
We love them all the same though.
I think what you're getting at here is that he deserves a metaphor?
I agree in that case.
Yes, exactly, he does deserve a metaphor.

Not really as successful as the rest, could it not simply reduce to
'Then off goes the lamp'?
It feels like I'm leaving stuff out.
You are, but perhaps the reader might fill in the blanks.

I'm not sure you need any of the lines below...
Well this was the overall point of the poem: the contemplation of memories being dreams as a kid or an actual memory,
then tossing that contemplation out the window. Without this, the poem is just a retelling of an assumed-by-the-audience memory.
I'll toy around with these final stanzas.
To be honest, I didn't get 'tossing that contemplation out the window' at all.
Perhaps you need to anchor the contemplation in a object, for instance, one that might have been collected from the beach?

Best, Knot.

[alonso ramoran]

I think you could leave a space/line here; and that the piece be structured in four line verses.
Don't know about this. I want the piece to have a loose feel to it. 
I think the only time the piece having a loose feel becomes a problem is in the third stanza, which I feel goes on too long.
Still trying to figure out how to solve that.
Just my opinion, but I think you've already got a loose feel anyway, arising from the 'simple' language and the long-ish sentences - what I would call a conversational tone. If nothing else, four lines might serve to help achieve the focus that is lacking in parts of S3 and S4.
True, I'll consider that.

do you need 'seem' here? 
I think I do, bc when rereading it, it sounds like I'm making a simile with the wind instead of their calls.
I didn't have a problem following the simile.
I'll think about it. Maybe it could use some rephrasing?

(Do you mean 'with which we complied'?)
I wrote "to whom" because the day, which is the subject here, was personified.
I think my issue is with 'complied', as with 'brine-dripping' it seems out of place. I'd suggest something simpler like 'we did what we were told'
Yes. I'll think of another word in place of complied.

(perhaps just 'the Eds'?)
People won't know what I'm talking about.
And I don't think anyone called the cartoon that, at least when I was a kid.
I didn't know what you were talking about, but googling Ed, Edd n Eddy led straight to 'the Eds'.
It doesn't sound natural to me. I would never call the show that.

Not really as successful as the rest, could it not simply reduce to
'Then off goes the lamp'?
It feels like I'm leaving stuff out.
You are, but perhaps the reader might fill in the blanks.
Stuff like the complied part-- I'll see what I can fix when separating these last few stanzas into four line verses.

I'm not sure you need any of the lines below...
Well this was the overall point of the poem: the contemplation of memories being dreams as a kid or an actual memory,
then tossing that contemplation out the window. Without this, the poem is just a retelling of an assumed-by-the-audience memory.
I'll toy around with these final stanzas.
To be honest, I didn't get 'tossing that contemplation out the window' at all.
Perhaps you need to anchor the contemplation in a object, for instance, one that might have been collected from the beach?
*Tossing the idea of contemplating the value of the "memory".
My bad, I was a bit vague. I think adding an object at the end of the poem to focus on might be doing too much, maybe to the point it might need to become a separate poem.

Best, Alex.

[nibbed]

Alex

After rereading several times and gathering back my comprehension skills, I really like this revision.
I felt the edd, ed, and eddy was awkward, but perhaps necessary for dating the poem. Without
it I think the poem would be timeless. Also, "decrepitude" seems a bit of a harsh word,
though I can't seem to find one as effective.

Good work.

-nibbed

[alonso ramoran]

Hey nibbed,

Thank you for your comments. I felt like it sounded a little awkward as well and I didn't wanna date the poem.

Made an edit.

[nibbed]

I know this is just
mild to moderate critique, but
just an itsy thing:

the "to which we complied"
and "to whom we complied"
seemed a bit repetitive.


-nibbed

[alonso ramoran]

I know this is just
mild to moderate critique, but
just an itsy thing:

the "to which we complied"
and "to whom we complied"
seemed a bit repetitive.


-nibbed

Fixed it. I think? Sounds a bit better to me. I feel like I'm getting pretty close to the final draft which I'm pretty excited about, it's came a long way

[alonso ramoran]

Hey guys, made some big changes. As always, would like to hear your thoughts.