untitled (thus far)

[armadillosarecool]

can't come up with a title for this one for some reason, but have at it as is:



he deadheaded their rhododendron,
his fingers squashing the petal husks
like ears that listened unconditionally
to her quotidian murmurs
offered from her knees,
stooped in a prayer to the garden gods
drawn from the Old Farmer’s Almanac:
her tattered psalter. he looked down
and felt a salt tear mix in his hand with the
morning dew and gritty pitch from a wilted blossom
as he ground it to a fiery pulp.
his eyes fell on the two vacant indentations,
shallow graves of crushed grass where her knees
nestled, always parallel to his.
eyes brimming, he looked at the scraggly weeds
untouched on her side of the earth.
his clippers fell from his hand as he
let himself become one with the grass,
sprawled out like the gangly spiders stalking
the grass near where he lay.
he thought he could feel the earthworms
writhing after their daily bread, he
pressed his ear to the topsoil and
longed to join in their unbothered, primal dance.

[busker]

can't come up with a title for this one for some reason, but have at it as is:

he deadheaded their rhododendron, 
his fingers squashing the petal husks
like ears that listened unconditionally
to her quotidian murmurs
offered from her knees,
stooped in a prayer to the garden gods
drawn from the Old Farmer’s Almanac:
her tattered psalter. he looked down
and felt a salt tear mix in his hand with the
morning dew and gritty pitch from a wilted blossom 
as he ground it to a fiery pulp.

his eyes fell on the two vacant indentations,
shallow graves of crushed grass where her knees
nestled, always parallel to his.
eyes brimming, he looked at the scraggly weeds
untouched on her side of the earth.

his clippers fell from his hand as he
let himself become one with the grass,
sprawled out like the gangly spiders stalking
the grass near where he lay.

he thought he could feel the earthworms
writhing after their daily bread, he
pressed his ear to the topsoil and
longed to join in their unbothered, primal dance.

There are some good lines (green above).
Some overly complicated ones (orange).

The poem tells a story that it is possible, though not easy, to follow, and has a payoff at the end.

I've added para breaks to make for easier reading.

Overall, I think as it stands it'd make for a fine prose poem. The style is poetic, lyrical, but the line breaks serve no purpose. Better to do away with them and write the strophes out as paragraphs. I don't think you need to change it into a poem poem.

Also, some of the details are a bit unrealistic - faded petals being fiery, not feeling the salt tears till they drop on the hand, shallow indentations in the grass from knees being visible even after being overgrown with weeds. It can't be a small garden if someone's buried there, and yet she only ever sat down in the same place?

[armadillosarecool]

been mulling over this response for a bit and i'm wondering if this idea might be better as an atmospheric flash fiction... might give it an opportunity to be more fully fleshed out with less half-baked ambiguity from trying to squash into poem format

[busker]

been mulling over this response for a bit and i'm wondering if this idea might be better as an atmospheric flash fiction... might give it an opportunity to be more fully fleshed out with less half-baked ambiguity from trying to squash into poem format

A prose poem does precisely that
It differs from regular prose in having a more profuse use of imagery and sonics. Like a poem, but without line breaks every 8-20 words.

Look up ‘the dead seal’ by Robert bly

[busker]

Well written
Needs some editing and rewriting in parts, but otherwise nice

“ He is discharged in a couple weeks but of course as fate would have it he doesnt make it long once hes out. Miles finds him dead in his armchair on a Thursday morning.”

I don’t think this is needed. The death is better off screen. It’s more interesting that way

[armadillosarecool]

Well written
Needs some editing and rewriting in parts, but otherwise nice

“ He is discharged in a couple weeks but of course as fate would have it he doesnt make it long once hes out. Miles finds him dead in his armchair on a Thursday morning.”

I don’t think this is needed. The death is better off screen. It’s more interesting that way

Thanks, good point there.