Battle to the Depths (edit of Community)

[wasellajam]

Battle to the Depths edit 2 (milo, mark)

To undertake a garden dockside's ill advised,
the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals and taint
surrounding soil.
The alliums for flowers' sake, the daffodils
and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables would drink
their fill of arsenic.

A gracious inland family had sympathy
for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade and turned a field
to garden plots.
From dawn to dusk the sun is full, the cows approach
and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence. An open shed
holds garden tools,
a rototiller, picnic table. Throughout the grassy
low-mown paths
well water feeds the spigots tightly wrapped
with coiled hose.

In teeshirts over bathing suits we drive three miles
to plant our seeds
and tend them as they flower, fruit; organic harvest
fills the fridge,
enough to share the overflow with family and grateful friends.
Organics grown to counteract exposure
to contaminants
may soothe our minds but probably won't make a dent
in what's absorbed.

Battle to the Depths edit 1.1 (milo, mark)

To undertake a garden dockside
is ill advised, the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals
and taint surrounding soil.
The alliums for flowers' sake,
the daffodils and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables
would drink their fill of arsenic.

A gracious inland family
had sympathy for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade
and turned a field to garden plots.
From dawn to dusk the sun is full,
the cows approach and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence.
An open shed holds garden tools,
a rototiller, picnic table.
Throughout the grassy low-mown paths
are spigots wrapped with coiled hose.

In teeshirts over bathing suits
we drive three miles to plant our seeds
and tend them as they flower, fruit;
our harvest varies week to week,
enough to share with grands and friends.
Organics grown to counteract
exposure to contaminants
will never make much difference,
just doing the best with what we've got.



Battle to the Depths (edit, milo)

To undertake a garden dockside
is ill advised, the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals
and taint surrounding soil.
The alliums for flowers' sake,
the daffodils and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables
would drink their fill of arsenic.

A gracious inland family
had sympathy for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade
and turned a field to garden plots.
From dawn to dusk the sun is full,
the cows approach and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence.
An open shed holds garden tools,
a rototiller, picnic table.
Throughout the grassy low-mown paths
are spigots wrapped with coiled hose.

In teeshirts over bathing suits
we drive three miles to plant our seeds
and tend them as they flower, fruit;
our harvest varies week to week,
enough to share with grands and friends.
Organic veggies grown to skip
exposure to contaminants
will never cause much difference,
just doing the best with what we've got.



Community (original)

To undertake a garden dockside
is ill advised, the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals,
forever tainting nearby soil.

The alliums for flowers sake,
the daffodils and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables
would drink their fill of arsenic.

Right down the road a long-held farm
had sympathy for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade
and turned a field to garden plots.

From dawn to dusk the sun is full,
the cows approach and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence,
our veggies growing safe and pure.

A trade off comes with every step of life,
our time spent here is somewhere else denied
but every now and then we find ourselves
the lucky few who right now have it all.

[milo]

Good morning, ella!

So, I have come to make comments here and backed out about a dozen times now as I try to figure out what I want to say the /most/ here.

First - they say write what you know and you take that to heart more than anyone so your poetry is always laced with rich personal details that seem effortless.  The listing of flowers feels real, interesting and natural.  i already did a couple passes for meter and the whole thing reads smooth and natural.

There are minor nits you would probably catch  yourself like - "does a farm have sympathy?" and the possessive form of flowers but I don't think they are enough of a concern.

I have - maybe 3 concerns and none of them really need to be addressed, just some thoughts:

1. The title.  Too overt.  It is not the payoff that maybe you were hoping for because the payoff is in the poem.
2.  There are a couple spots where it feels you think you need to "poem" instead of trusting your own instincts to deliver.  Mostly the last strophe, felt like you were trying to deliver a message in a way the poem already had.
3.  Metaphor - right in the beginning - you use a line that screams - "Hey! Look at me! I am the central metaphor!"  And it was such a good line, I kept reading the poem over and over trying to figure it out but, if it's there I am not getting it.  It is this - "the poisoned planks are bound to leach their chemicals, forever tainting nearby soil." - this is a great line.  This is a great metaphor.  It is the type of thought people build poems around - the thought that living at a lake metaphorically poisons the area.  It is irony and dichotomy all at once.  For some reason, I never get that out of the poem.  i get the solution - a farmer offers a spot to substitute for that human need, but I don't think you ever sold the idea of the lake poisoning the community so for me it is a red herring.

To undertake a garden dockside

minor note on undertake

is ill advised, the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals,
forever tainting nearby soil.

The alliums for flowers sake,
the daffodils and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables
would drink their fill of arsenic.

Right down the road a along-held farm
had sympathy for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade
and turned a field to garden plots.

From dawn to dusk the sun is full,
the cows approach and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence,
our veggies growing safe and pure.

minor nit on veggies safe and "pure" - I know technically that is exactly what they are doing - it feels like it is trying to point to a moral purity which is not realized

A trade off comes with every step of life,
our time spent here is somewhere else denied
but every now and then we find ourselves
the lucky few who right now have it all.

That is all.  Loved the poem - I could picture Greenwood Lake which is a bit off from you but similar in my mind.

Thanks for posting this

[wasellajam]

Good morning, ella!

So, I have come to make comments here and backed out about a dozen times now as I try to figure out what I want to say the /most/ here.

First - they say write what you know and you take that to heart more than anyone so your poetry is always laced with rich personal details that seem effortless.  The listing of flowers feels real, interesting and natural.  i already did a couple passes for meter and the whole thing reads smooth and natural.

There are minor nits you would probably catch  yourself like - "does a farm have sympathy?" and the possessive form of flowers but I don't think they are enough of a concern.

I have - maybe 3 concerns and none of them really need to be addressed, just some thoughts:

1. The title.  Too overt.  It is not the payoff that maybe you were hoping for because the payoff is in the poem.
2.  There are a couple spots where it feels you think you need to "poem" instead of trusting your own instincts to deliver.  Mostly the last strophe, felt like you were trying to deliver a message in a way the poem already had.
3.  Metaphor - right in the beginning - you use a line that screams - "Hey! Look at me! I am the central metaphor!"  And it was such a good line, I kept reading the poem over and over trying to figure it out but, if it's there I am not getting it.  It is this - "the poisoned planks are bound to leach their chemicals, forever tainting nearby soil." - this is a great line.  This is a great metaphor.  It is the type of thought people build poems around - the thought that living at a lake metaphorically poisons the area.  It is irony and dichotomy all at once.  For some reason, I never get that out of the poem.  i get the solution - a farmer offers a spot to substitute for that human need, but I don't think you ever sold the idea of the lake poisoning the community so for me it is a red herring.

To undertake a garden dockside

minor note on undertake

is ill advised, the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals,
forever tainting nearby soil.

The alliums for flowers sake,
the daffodils and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables
would drink their fill of arsenic.

Right down the road a along-held farm
had sympathy for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade
and turned a field to garden plots.

From dawn to dusk the sun is full,
the cows approach and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence,
our veggies growing safe and pure.

minor nit on veggies safe and "pure" - I know technically that is exactly what they are doing - it feels like it is trying to point to a moral purity which is not realized

A trade off comes with every step of life,
our time spent here is somewhere else denied
but every now and then we find ourselves
the lucky few who right now have it all.

That is all.  Loved the poem - I could picture Greenwood Lake which is a bit off from you but similar in my mind.

Thanks for posting this

Well, thanks for loving it while I don't, mostly due to the points you picked up on.  I figured it's a place to start. Agree on the title, a throwaway and an easy fix will come to me at some point. I can fix the farm/sympathy and the flowers, I appreciate those notes. My conclusion is hokey, but did it sound familiar? It's a habit I guess I never broke, I can hack away at that.

That leaves #3, the metaphor. ding ding ding. That's the line I couldn't mess with, the heart. I know I did not do it justice this go-round but I can try again. Much appreciate your time and encouragement.

And don't be giving the prying internet a path to my house. 

[milo]

Good morning, ella!

So, I have come to make comments here and backed out about a dozen times now as I try to figure out what I want to say the /most/ here.

First - they say write what you know and you take that to heart more than anyone so your poetry is always laced with rich personal details that seem effortless.  The listing of flowers feels real, interesting and natural.  i already did a couple passes for meter and the whole thing reads smooth and natural.

There are minor nits you would probably catch  yourself like - "does a farm have sympathy?" and the possessive form of flowers but I don't think they are enough of a concern.

I have - maybe 3 concerns and none of them really need to be addressed, just some thoughts:

1. The title.  Too overt.  It is not the payoff that maybe you were hoping for because the payoff is in the poem.
2.  There are a couple spots where it feels you think you need to "poem" instead of trusting your own instincts to deliver.  Mostly the last strophe, felt like you were trying to deliver a message in a way the poem already had.
3.  Metaphor - right in the beginning - you use a line that screams - "Hey! Look at me! I am the central metaphor!"  And it was such a good line, I kept reading the poem over and over trying to figure it out but, if it's there I am not getting it.  It is this - "the poisoned planks are bound to leach their chemicals, forever tainting nearby soil." - this is a great line.  This is a great metaphor.  It is the type of thought people build poems around - the thought that living at a lake metaphorically poisons the area.  It is irony and dichotomy all at once.  For some reason, I never get that out of the poem.  i get the solution - a farmer offers a spot to substitute for that human need, but I don't think you ever sold the idea of the lake poisoning the community so for me it is a red herring.

To undertake a garden dockside

minor note on undertake

is ill advised, the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals,
forever tainting nearby soil.

The alliums for flowers sake,
the daffodils and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables
would drink their fill of arsenic.

Right down the road a along-held farm
had sympathy for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade
and turned a field to garden plots.

From dawn to dusk the sun is full,
the cows approach and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence,
our veggies growing safe and pure.

minor nit on veggies safe and "pure" - I know technically that is exactly what they are doing - it feels like it is trying to point to a moral purity which is not realized

A trade off comes with every step of life,
our time spent here is somewhere else denied
but every now and then we find ourselves
the lucky few who right now have it all.

That is all.  Loved the poem - I could picture Greenwood Lake which is a bit off from you but similar in my mind.

Thanks for posting this

Well, thanks for loving it while I don't, mostly due to the points you picked up on.  I figured it's a place to start. Agree on the title, a throwaway and an easy fix will come to me at some point. I can fix the farm/sympathy and the flowers, I appreciate those notes. My conclusion is hokey, but did it sound familiar? It's a habit I guess I never broke, I can hack away at that.

That leaves #3, the metaphor. ding ding ding. That's the line I couldn't mess with, the heart. I know I did not do it justice this go-round but I can try again. Much appreciate your time and encouragement.

And don't be giving the prying internet a path to my house. 

oops, sorry about that, I could edit it out if you wish.

anyway, as I always say - an author should be a poem's first love but not it's first lover

[wasellajam]

anyway, as I always say - an author should be a poem's first love but not it's first lover

 Never heard that before 

---

So, edit up. Still not too happy with title and ending. More importantly I'm not sure if it's more focused or just has a lot more padding. Grateful for any and all crit

[Mark A Becker]

Hello was ella-

the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals
and taint surrounding soil. an environmental statement

A gracious inland family
.... low-mown paths
are spigots wrapped with coiled hose. This stanza paints an interesting picture and carries on to the next stanza


Organic veggies grown to skip
exposure to contaminants
will never cause much difference,
just doing the best with what we've got. So now we arrive at your counterpoint to the poisoned planks you started with.

You seem to take the long around to your conclusion, and while it's picturesque enough, for me it doesn't lay down that hammer at the end; to draw the contrast I think you're looking to convey. I certainly appreciate the idea behind this poem. I guess I'm just looking for more POWER TO THE PEOPLE; more of the struggle it takes to gain balance against toxic exposure to food sources.

I hope my comments are of use to you,
Mark

[wasellajam]

Hello was ella-

the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals
and taint surrounding soil. an environmental statement

A gracious inland family
.... low-mown paths
are spigots wrapped with coiled hose. This stanza paints an interesting picture and carries on to the next stanza


Organic veggies grown to skip
exposure to contaminants
will never cause much difference,
just doing the best with what we've got. So now we arrive at your counterpoint to the poisoned planks you started with.

You seem to take the long around to your conclusion, and while it's picturesque enough, for me it doesn't lay down that hammer at the end; to draw the contrast I think you're looking to convey. I certainly appreciate the idea behind this poem. I guess I'm just looking for more POWER TO THE PEOPLE; more of the struggle it takes to gain balance against toxic exposure to food sources.

I hope my comments are of use to you,
Mark

Mark! Thanks so much for reading and taking the time to comment. So more about the damage, a stronger end. Do you think it's best to leave the picturesque stuff and add or trim the middle down?

[milo]

Hello again, ella

ok, the title - I actually liked your old title better.  I am just not getting this one at all and it doesn't seem to fit the mood or direction of the piece imo.

Battle to the Depths edit 2 (milo, mark)

To undertake a garden dockside's ill advised,
the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals and taint
surrounding soil.
The alliums for flowers' sake, the daffodils
and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables would drink
their fill of arsenic.

Can't remember what you had here before but all of this reads pretty good to me.  I particularly like the hyacinth - not sure exactly why, it just sounds so good.  Minor nit on "drink their fill"

A gracious inland family had sympathy
for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade and turned a field
to garden plots.
From dawn to dusk the sun is full, the cows approach
and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence. An open shed
holds garden tools,
a rototiller, picnic table. Throughout the grassy
low-mown paths
well water feeds the spigots wrapped
with coiled hose.

ok - so it's not my poem and I already read ahead so I know what is coming next, but I would probably have moved the tedium of getting there, setting up - I don't know, the chore of the situation here.  Also, i read ahead and I am going to complain about it here - the "organic grown" - it's a marketing term that really doesn't apply to a home garden - IDK, seems a little "telly" if you will to me.

In teeshirts over bathing suits we drive three miles
to plant our seeds
and tend them as they flower, fruit; organic harvest
fills the fridge,
enough to share the overflow with family and grateful friends.
Organics grown to counteract exposure
to contaminants
may soothe our minds but probably won't make a dent
in what's absorbed.

plant our seeds is a nice addition.  Just realized you repeat "organic" - sigh.  
Anyway, Most of this isn't great - the rhythm is fine the rest feels almost preachy.

Obviously not my poem but for me, I would love to see you move the closure to being maybe the joy that comes from gardening and growing your own food to here - the feeling of dirt on your fingers, the smell of the musty earth, the knees that are sore and the back that is sore but in a good way and then - literally - have the cow moo hello as your last line.

maybe that's too silly.  Hopefully my rambling can be of some help.

Thanks for posting the new version

Battle to the Depths edit 1.1 (milo, mark)

To undertake a garden dockside
is ill advised, the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals
and taint surrounding soil.
The alliums for flowers' sake,
the daffodils and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables
would drink their fill of arsenic.

A gracious inland family
had sympathy for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade
and turned a field to garden plots.
From dawn to dusk the sun is full,
the cows approach and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence.
An open shed holds garden tools,
a rototiller, picnic table.
Throughout the grassy low-mown paths
are spigots wrapped with coiled hose.

In teeshirts over bathing suits
we drive three miles to plant our seeds
and tend them as they flower, fruit;
our harvest varies week to week,
enough to share with grands and friends.
Organics grown to counteract
exposure to contaminants
will never make much difference,
just doing the best with what we've got.



Battle to the Depths (edit, milo)

To undertake a garden dockside
is ill advised, the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals
and taint surrounding soil.
The alliums for flowers' sake,
the daffodils and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables
would drink their fill of arsenic.

A gracious inland family
had sympathy for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade
and turned a field to garden plots.
From dawn to dusk the sun is full,
the cows approach and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence.
An open shed holds garden tools,
a rototiller, picnic table.
Throughout the grassy low-mown paths
are spigots wrapped with coiled hose.

In teeshirts over bathing suits
we drive three miles to plant our seeds
and tend them as they flower, fruit;
our harvest varies week to week,
enough to share with grands and friends.
Organic veggies grown to skip
exposure to contaminants
will never cause much difference,
just doing the best with what we've got.



Community (original)

To undertake a garden dockside
is ill advised, the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals,
forever tainting nearby soil.

The alliums for flowers sake,
the daffodils and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables
would drink their fill of arsenic.

Right down the road a long-held farm
had sympathy for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade
and turned a field to garden plots.

From dawn to dusk the sun is full,
the cows approach and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence,
our veggies growing safe and pure.

A trade off comes with every step of life,
our time spent here is somewhere else denied
but every now and then we find ourselves
the lucky few who right now have it all.

[/quote]

[wasellajam]

Hello again, ella

ok, the title - I actually liked your old title better.  I am just not getting this one at all and it doesn't seem to fit the mood or direction of the piece imo.

Battle to the Depths edit 2 (milo, mark)

To undertake a garden dockside's ill advised,
the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals and taint
surrounding soil.
The alliums for flowers' sake, the daffodils
and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables would drink
their fill of arsenic.

Can't remember what you had here before but all of this reads pretty good to me.  I particularly like the hyacinth - not sure exactly why, it just sounds so good.  Minor nit on "drink their fill"

A gracious inland family had sympathy
for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade and turned a field
to garden plots.
From dawn to dusk the sun is full, the cows approach
and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence. An open shed
holds garden tools,
a rototiller, picnic table. Throughout the grassy
low-mown paths
well water feeds the spigots wrapped
with coiled hose.

ok - so it's not my poem and I already read ahead so I know what is coming next, but I would probably have moved the tedium of getting there, setting up - I don't know, the chore of the situation here.  Also, i read ahead and I am going to complain about it here - the "organic grown" - it's a marketing term that really doesn't apply to a home garden - IDK, seems a little "telly" if you will to me.

In teeshirts over bathing suits we drive three miles
to plant our seeds
and tend them as they flower, fruit; organic harvest
fills the fridge,
enough to share the overflow with family and grateful friends.
Organics grown to counteract exposure
to contaminants
may soothe our minds but probably won't make a dent
in what's absorbed.

plant our seeds is a nice addition.  Just realized you repeat "organic" - sigh.  
Anyway, Most of this isn't great - the rhythm is fine the rest feels almost preachy.

Obviously not my poem but for me, I would love to see you move the closure to being maybe the joy that comes from gardening and growing your own food to here - the feeling of dirt on your fingers, the smell of the musty earth, the knees that are sore and the back that is sore but in a good way and then - literally - have the cow moo hello as your last line.

maybe that's too silly.  Hopefully my rambling can be of some help.

Thanks for posting the new version

So first, my. original thought was to write about giving up the garden, which would have been the joy and pain you'd prefer. The poisoned planks led me somewhere else, then your talk of metaphor, which I never achieved, and Mark's of power to the people led me here. 

The boring in-between that neither of you enjoyed is actually the part I like lol.

To your points, yeah, still no title which is no surprised as I'm so unfocused.. I missed the double organic which is bad, but the garden is 64 plots and one of the rules is no poison, I don't think organic is just commercial.

So, this is probably scrap heap, but I would like your opinion on whether the format change helped, hurt or didn't make a difference.

Thanks so much for your time and effort, let's do it again when I figure out what I want to write about.

[milo]

Hello again, ella

ok, the title - I actually liked your old title better.  I am just not getting this one at all and it doesn't seem to fit the mood or direction of the piece imo.

Battle to the Depths edit 2 (milo, mark)

To undertake a garden dockside's ill advised,
the poisoned planks
are bound to leach their chemicals and taint
surrounding soil.
The alliums for flowers' sake, the daffodils
and hyacinth
are fine to plant but vegetables would drink
their fill of arsenic.

Can't remember what you had here before but all of this reads pretty good to me.  I particularly like the hyacinth - not sure exactly why, it just sounds so good.  Minor nit on "drink their fill"

A gracious inland family had sympathy
for neighbors stuck
beneath the trees in lakeside shade and turned a field
to garden plots.
From dawn to dusk the sun is full, the cows approach
and moo hello
from their side of the six-foot fence. An open shed
holds garden tools,
a rototiller, picnic table. Throughout the grassy
low-mown paths
well water feeds the spigots wrapped
with coiled hose.

ok - so it's not my poem and I already read ahead so I know what is coming next, but I would probably have moved the tedium of getting there, setting up - I don't know, the chore of the situation here.  Also, i read ahead and I am going to complain about it here - the "organic grown" - it's a marketing term that really doesn't apply to a home garden - IDK, seems a little "telly" if you will to me.

In teeshirts over bathing suits we drive three miles
to plant our seeds
and tend them as they flower, fruit; organic harvest
fills the fridge,
enough to share the overflow with family and grateful friends.
Organics grown to counteract exposure
to contaminants
may soothe our minds but probably won't make a dent
in what's absorbed.

plant our seeds is a nice addition.  Just realized you repeat "organic" - sigh.  
Anyway, Most of this isn't great - the rhythm is fine the rest feels almost preachy.

Obviously not my poem but for me, I would love to see you move the closure to being maybe the joy that comes from gardening and growing your own food to here - the feeling of dirt on your fingers, the smell of the musty earth, the knees that are sore and the back that is sore but in a good way and then - literally - have the cow moo hello as your last line.

maybe that's too silly.  Hopefully my rambling can be of some help.

Thanks for posting the new version

So first, my. original thought was to write about giving up the garden, which would have been the joy and pain you'd prefer. The poisoned planks led me somewhere else, then your talk of metaphor, which I never achieved, and Mark's of power to the people led me here. 

The boring in-between that neither of you enjoyed is actually the part I like lol.

To your points, yeah, still no title which is no surprised as I'm so unfocused.. I missed the double organic which is bad, but the garden is 64 plots and one of the rules is no poison, I don't think organic is just commercial.

So, this is probably scrap heap, but I would like your opinion on whether the format change helped, hurt or didn't make a difference.

Thanks so much for your time and effort, let's do it again when I figure out what I want to write about.

I don't think it is a scrap heap and I actually like the middle section I just think it should be at the end.  The end section is the one I didn't care much for but - hey - different tastes . . .

[wasellajam]

Do you think the formatting change had any effect?

[milo]

Do you think the formatting change had any effect?

it took me a couple of times to notice as the first few times I read it it was on my phone and I just assumed it was wrapping oddly on the small screen as it frequently does.  I went back and checked on the computer a few times as that is where I made my commentary.  I should have mentioned it.  I like it.  I think it gives a nice pacing to it.

[wasellajam]

I was reading tectak, he often wrote in sooo-long-ameter but he wasn't afraid to break it up when it suited him. I considered the long line but didn't want to lose so many breaks, this gave me the same number of breaks but maybe in a less monotonous way. I don't know, just trying.