To Drink and Drive

[UnicornRainbowCake]

First Edit

I've taken what isn't cliche and awkward and written it around that. I'm not sure how this edit has gone, I feel as I already know the story I struggle to see if it's too unclear.

It was another accident.
I reached down to pick up
that bouquet.

Sodden petals stuck to the ground;
drowning amongst speckled gum
carelessly thrown by a road hog.

Cath's voice shattered the dead air
and her words hit me.
They were splashed with familiar blood -
but now, laced with whiskey.

The sound scorched Cath's throat,
making it as dry as that day
when she lost her kin.

We started the journey home.
I preached your goodness once -
did I spit lies on your behalf?

You drank, then drove.
You also nursed my scraped knees,
tested the smoke alarm every Sunday.

I would not have shed so many tears -
if I had known. With a tap of the brakes,
I rolled up the ramp into the hall.

I sat and waited for her to take my coat off.
I sat and wondered -
How could I forgive you now?

______________________________________________________________
Original

It was another accident.
I reached down to pick up
the withered,
decayed bouquet
that littered the dull grey pavement.

With clammy hands
My aunt placed another
against the lamp post
refreshing this scene
and the faded memories I have.

When we stopped in silence
I wondered if ever, anyone
had given a passing thought -
if the speeding drivers
knew it could be them next.

Her voice shattered the dead air
and her words fell on me
like shards of a mirror,
covering my broken reflections
with blood and whiskey.

Unspoken truths - now I know.
How could you be so careless?
You drank, then drove.
you also nursed my scraped knees,
Tested the smoke alarm every Sunday.

How could you?
as my aunt broke into tears,
full of tense guilt, unrestrained
her eyes inked red with despair.
We started the journey home.

She put the handbrake on outside the door.
I would not have shed so many tears, if I had known.
Aunt pushed me up the ramp into the hall.
I sat and waited for her to take my coat off.
I sat and wondered -

How could I forgive you now?

[Volaticus]

Hi Amy,
I gotta admit I had to take take a few minutes to collect myself, after reading your poem. The progression of the stanzas, telling things so sad, but still so beautifully written. I was very moved by your poem, so it's hard for me to find anything bad to say really.
- LB

[UnicornRainbowCake]

Perhaps it's high time I started writing about happy things...thankyou for the feedback, I appreciate it

[justcloudy]

wow, so beautifully written, heartbreaking and crisp. the smoke alarm and scraped knees part especially tugged at these heartstrings. well done.

just a question: is S5 the aunt speaking? or is it still in the narrator's head? that tripped me up on my second read.
and a comment or two: tense guilt doesn't work for me, but that's maybe just me. and would it be more personal if "aunt" had a name? just a thought.

thanks so much for sharing this lovely piece of poetry.

-cloudy

[UnicornRainbowCake]

Cloudy - thankyou very much for the lovely words.

It is all the narrator - thankyou for pointing out the problem with S5 - I didn't see it in that perspective, I'll think of what I can do to that.

I originally had a name for the aunt, but I wasn't too sure if it would make the narrator sound too much like a young girl.

Hopefully I'll get a bit more feedback and then I'll do my first edit. Thankyou

[tectak]

It was another accident.
I reached down to pick up
the withered,
decayed bouquet
that littered the dull grey pavement. Grey is dull. Dull is grey. There is an adjective going spare,here

With clammy hands Medical cliche
My aunt placed another Unrelated "another"
against the lamp post
refreshing this scene
and the faded memories I have. cliche

When we stopped in silence
I wondered if ever, anyone
had given a passing thought -
if the speeding drivers poor syntax here and line above. Very clunky. The dash to freedom.
knew it could be them next.

Her voice shattered the dead air Whose? You do not say... but I still see cliche(s)
and her words fell on me
like shards of a mirror,
covering my broken reflections cliche, cliche
with blood and whiskey.

Unspoken truths - now I know. cliche
How could you be so careless?
You drank, then drove.
you also nursed my scraped knees, Capital on "You"...
Tested the smoke alarm every Sunday. but not on "tested". There is a rule...

How could you?
as my aunt broke into tears, which also applies here
full of tense guilt, unrestrained What is/are "tense guilt, unrestrained her eyes"? You wrote it
her eyes inked red with despair.
We started the journey home.

She put the handbrake on outside the door....and did it suit her, or did it make her bum look big? Flaky syntax
I would not have shed so many tears, if I had known.
Aunt pushed me up the ramp into the hall.
I sat and waited for her to take my coat off.
I sat and wondered -

How could I forgive you now?

Hi amy,
It is easy to lose sight of what the purpose of posting on serious crit is...and this is very much about this piece. The content is harrowing and one has to assume that you consciously wrote into the piece as much angst as you could within the boundaries imposed by the requirement to write good poetry...otherwise you would have no other reason for posting it, would you? So I will make that assumption.
OK. Poetry.
S1 opens well but perhaps a little over dramatically. As you care not for flow or rhythm or rhyme in this piece you can just split the lines up anywhere you choose and it will make no difference...and you do. Please remember this is a comment on the poetic qualities in the piece. What logic, emotional or poetic reason can you give for putting " the withered" in a single line. I am curious because I seem to be unaware of the poetic device you are using and would be much enlightened to know. There must be a really good argument for random line breaks because you do
it a
lot.
S2 Is your aunt named "My"? No. Please remember this is a comment on the poetic qualities in the piece. What logic, emotional or poetic reason can you give for capitalising the word, then? Ah, its traditional....I see...but hang on, you don't capitalise "against" in the same stanza. Sure beats me.
Enough. I can't go on like this. Could you go through the piece and just tidy it up a bit. The line breaks are insane and irrational. There are a couple of missing capitals at the beginning of sentences. You don't think punctuation is worth worrying about and you find it restrictive and you are a free spirit and you want to write how you want to write...I hope not. I think not.
We shall see.
Concept old and tired but you squeezed what you could out of this very dry lemon. Hearse-verse is difficult to get right...wait till you see what crap Maggie Thatcher's death throws up
Best,
tectak

[UnicornRainbowCake]

Thankyou very much for the very detailed and constructive critique. I really appreciate the lack of sugar-coating - it's a breath of fresh air

Reading it back over, in terms of line breaks the first three stanzas are under par. I can see some adjustments I can make already on the first half, but the last four stanzas I'm not sure where things could be changed. I think the line breaks there are more rational.

My punctation and capitalisation, I've got nothing to say on that. You're absolutely right. I've made the newbie error of not completely proof reading my work before I post it on the serious forum, thankyou for pointing it out - I sure won't do that again.

I'm going to edit it now, I'd be grateful if you could post on if my line breaks are less insane and irrational this time round

Thanks again for the helpful critique.

PS - I'm sure someone who's overly free spirited will write about the symbolism of milk with Maggie...not me.

[tectak]

Thankyou very much for the very detailed and constructive critique. I really appreciate the lack of sugar-coating - it's a breath of fresh air

Reading it back over, in terms of enjambment and line breaks the first three stanzas are under par. I can see some adjustments I can make already on the first half, but the last four stanzas I'm not sure where things could be changed. I think the line breaks there are more rational.

My punctation and capitalisation, I've got nothing to say on that. You're absolutely right. I've made the newbie error of not completely proof reading my work before I post it on the serious forum, thankyou for pointing it out - I sure won't do that again.

I'm going to edit it now, I'd be grateful if you could post on if my line breaks are less insane and irrational this time round

Thanks again for the helpful critique.

PS - I'm sure someone who's overly free spirited will write about the symbolism of milk with Maggie...not me.

Hi Amy,
Good egg. Can't wait for the edit. Exciting stuff, writing poetry.
Best,
tectak

[UnicornRainbowCake]

First edit is up, I hope there is an improvement

[justcloudy]

some things are more clear in the edit, esp towards the beginning... but it lost its umph for me. it read a lot more flat. for example: the entire aunt dimension is lost, and the speaker getting pushed into the hall at the end was important, made him/her much more vulnerable.

S1, S4 and S5 for me were an improvement, but for the rest I preferred the original.

just my thoughts.

[tectak]

First Edit

I've taken what isn't cliche and awkward and written it around that. I'm not sure how this edit has gone, I feel as I already know the story I struggle to see if it's too unclear.

It was another accident.
I reached down to pick up
that bouquetWhat made you do this "that" in italics or at all? The linkage between accident and bouquet cannot be made with so few bricks.....just why is there an accidental bouquet down there? Why that one, why not this one? How many bouquets are lying there? Sorry, amy, but it is going backwards.
Just another accident on a rainy day.
On the pavement, flecked with gum,
A sodden bouquet lay.
...or something. Your poem

Sodden petals stuck to the ground;
drowning amongst speckled gum
carelessly thrown by a road hog. Far too preachy and moralising. There but for the grace of what's 'is name

Cath's voice shattered the dead air
and her words hit me.
They were splashed with familiar blood -
but now, laced with whiskey. Syntax all over the place.Familiar(?) or familial. What does the "they" refer to? WHAT WHERE HER WORDS? WE NEED TO KNOW! Drop the dash. It means nothing and punctuates less.

The sound scorched Cath's throat,
making it as dry as that day
when she lost her kin Very weak stanza. Dry as a day? Syntax. Dry as on the day. Still poor, though. A bigger problem, I am lost in time, now...or then

We started the journey home. Who we? Who got dead? You know...tell me. Lost it.
I preached your goodness once - Whose? This is now a car crash. Well, I got that right...or not
did I spit lies on your behalf?

You drank, then drove.
You also nursed my scraped knees,
tested the smoke alarm every Sunday.

I would not have shed so many tears -
if I had known. With a tap of the brakes,
I rolled up the ramp into the hall. Who gives a damn about your driving technique? Does this matter? Hasn't someone died. Oh yes...I stirred my coffee clockwise.
I sat and waited for her to take my coat off. Unclear. Was "she" wearing your coat? You see, this is how I read things....and I am not alone. Think about your reader first and last...assuming that is why you posted
I sat and wondered - cat sat on mat...sometimes I sit and think...sometimes I just sit...humpty dumpty sat on a wall...sat is a doing nothing word...and it does nothing.
How could I forgive you now? Quite

Hi amy,
Now I feel guilty but not retractive. For those who like content to be "Lassie come Home" then weep on...but this is just such a loose fitting garment you can get anything in to it. Tighten it. Make it fit. Tailored. Make it hang beautifully. The content does nothing for me, nor should it.Look.

My babies dead
her tiny head
lays on the bed.
I should have said
I love you more
but I just snore.

Some will find great emotional merit in that ten second terse-hearse-verse.
Pap.
You are sailing close.
Best,
tectak
[/b]
____________________________________________________________Original

It was another accident.
I reached down to pick up
the withered,
decayed bouquet
that littered the dull grey pavement.

With clammy hands
My aunt placed another
against the lamp post
refreshing this scene
and the faded memories I have.

When we stopped in silence
I wondered if ever, anyone
had given a passing thought -
if the speeding drivers
knew it could be them next.

Her voice shattered the dead air
and her words fell on me
like shards of a mirror,
covering my broken reflections
with blood and whiskey.

Unspoken truths - now I know.
How could you be so careless?
You drank, then drove.
you also nursed my scraped knees,
Tested the smoke alarm every Sunday.

How could you?
as my aunt broke into tears,
full of tense guilt, unrestrained
her eyes inked red with despair.
We started the journey home.

She put the handbrake on outside the door.
I would not have shed so many tears, if I had known.
Aunt pushed me up the ramp into the hall.
I sat and waited for her to take my coat off.
I sat and wondered -

How could I forgive you now?

[UnicornRainbowCake]

Thankyou again for critique - you've confirmed my fears. Perhaps this is a tale better written in prose rather than poetry (as the original was). It seems I've taken a step backwards with my edit.

Do you think it is worth the salvaging as it is, or am I flogging a dead horse? I understand where I've gone wrong, but I'm not sure what is in it worth saving - if any.

Would it work better if I was to cut a lot of the complicated story and focus more on the drink driving? I don't want it to be comedically depressed and sombre, or OTT.

Thanks

[tectak]

Thankyou again for critique - you've confirmed my fears. Perhaps this is a tale better written in prose rather than poetry (as the original was). It seems I've taken a step backwards with my edit.

Do you think it is worth the salvaging as it is, or am I flogging a dead horse? I understand where I've gone wrong, but I'm not sure what is in it worth saving - if any.

Would it work better if I was to cut a lot of the complicated story and focus more on the drink driving? I don't want it to be comedically depressed and sombre, or OTT.

Thanks

Hi amy
Hearse verse is very difficult. First person hearse verse is more difficult still. Terse hearse verse in first person is something I would not tackle. So what to do?
Change one or two of the difficulties.
You need first person because you a relying on prerorgative insight to pull this one off. Keep it. The story is about death so you cannot get rid of the hearse verse. Keep it. It uses terse stanzas...and that is where you get into difficulties. You are right about the prose. I suggest you write out a clear, fully informative story. Use no poetic devices per se but let your metaphors and intuitively emotional ability take you over. Write it in sentences and feel the flow. Write it in paragraphs to get the "blocks" in place.Read it out loud....to someone else if possible.Adjust it until it works with breathing. Now start the line out process. Try to make the line breaks hit the natural stops and pauses rather than just because a break here looks nice or pseudo (faux) poetic .
Do not give up on a piece. Store it ,as todd does ,if you do not feel it is ready....or write about flogging a dead horse.....that'll get the tears jerking.
Best,
tectak
all is opinion.

[UnicornRainbowCake]

Thankyou again for critique - you've confirmed my fears. Perhaps this is a tale better written in prose rather than poetry (as the original was). It seems I've taken a step backwards with my edit.

Do you think it is worth the salvaging as it is, or am I flogging a dead horse? I understand where I've gone wrong, but I'm not sure what is in it worth saving - if any.

Would it work better if I was to cut a lot of the complicated story and focus more on the drink driving? I don't want it to be comedically depressed and sombre, or OTT.

Thanks

Hi amy
Hearse verse is very difficult. First person hearse verse is more difficult still. Terse hearse verse in first person is something I would not tackle. So what to do?
Change one or two of the difficulties.
You need first person because you a relying on prerorgative insight to pull this one off. Keep it. The story is about death so you cannot get rid of the hearse verse. Keep it. It uses terse stanzas...and that is where you get into difficulties. You are right about the prose. I suggest you write out a clear, fully informative story. Use no poetic devices per se but let your metaphors and intuitively emotional ability take you over. Write it in sentences and feel the flow. Write it in paragraphs to get the "blocks" in place.Read it out loud....to someone else if possible.Adjust it until it works with breathing. Now start the line out process. Try to make the line breaks hit the natural stops and pauses rather than just because a break here looks nice or pseudo (faux) poetic .
Do not give up on a piece. Store it ,as todd does ,if you do not feel it is ready....or write about flogging a dead horse.....that'll get the tears jerking.
Best,
tectak
all is opinion.

Flogging dead horses...

The Memoirs of a Tesco Burger?

That'll be a stable poem at least...best read on the hoof.

Thanks again for all the help you've given me on this, I think I'm going to store it for a while.

[UnicornRainbowCake]

Thanks true, it seems like now I feel an obligation to write another revision

I got so into writing this that I forgot to think that nobody reading it already knew the story, and then I kind of lost the whole idea. I'm going to leave it for a few days so I can get back into it, but your critique has certainly given me a bit of a foundation to actually continue with it.

Thankyou very much