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Elegy For Whom She May Have Been

Elegy for Whom She May Have Been

I remember your name
weren’t you Birtha
wouldn't it be perfect
our Bird Lady

I remember your soot covered smocks,
glass blown hips, Velveeta cheese overbite
four tiny horse nubs smiling back
from behind the trash compactor

TJ threw eggs,
Sean shivered in sadness smiling
I won’t tell you which one I was

I remember rumors your son, 34
had blown off his chances
on your gallop to pay
his horses to coo his bookies

I hope he was found near you
lying in the city park

I'd like to believe birds can fly these colors
of our strategies away,

still with us

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
This is about a lady I used to see when I was a teenager--I hope you enjoy!
Editing stage: 

Comments

welcome to neopoet

and this is an excellent first submission
great descriptive - i could just see the kids teasing the ugly poor lady

and
'I won’t tell you which one I was' (lol)
as well as
'I hope he was found near you
lying in the city park '
- is powerful in its emotion of remorse and anger/ sadness

'coo his bookies' - is 'coo' a slang i don't know, or a word you have used meaning to soft talk, as in soft cooing of the dove... or did you mean 'cool'

the only suggestion i have is to tidy up your punctuation - either have all or none- you have it dotted here and there :)

i look forward to reading more of your work
love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

I took a quick look at your profile page before reading (I do that a lot). There wasn't much there which was disappointing, I did note the comment about writing a "real" poem someday.
What you submitted is real poetry. Now, I could pick it to death because it doesn't have a lot of the things I include in my poetry, but it did have something in abundance I struggle to include in my poems- gut emotion.
There was little consistent meter and of course no rhyme (I do love my rhyme), it followed no classical format.
But in sincere language (and a little edgy) it conveyed the single most important characteristic of any piece of poetry- emotion.
I do hope you hang about and write some more real poems for us.
wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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guys so much!

author comment

I just wrote a detailed crit then my server failed. So this is shorter.

I remember rumors your son, 34
had blown off his chances
on your gallop not sure why you use another horse metaphor (after the horse nubs) in reference to Birtha, brings to mind that her son is being piggy backed which seems a bit silly given his age
to pay his horses, this line seems unnecessary since the next line implies paying off bets
to coo his bookies

I'd like to believe birds can fly these colors
of our strategies away, the dangling preposition is awkward

I think the last line is unnecessary as it's implied by 'I'd like to believe'

also agree with Judyanne, punctuation is relevant, it helps the reader read it correctly. As its free verse rhyme and metre is not an issue, but better clarity of expression will lead to better flow/rhythm.

I liked this, its original and you balance what you see with what you feel,
looking forward to reading more of your work
kind regards
Ross

Don't believe that crap on his profile about writing a real poem one day, he is a bloody fine poet.

When I saw his name here I sent him a message on FB saying that someone was using his name and that it wasn't as good as his poetry! Goodness me I can be such a fool! I only scanned it.

It is, however very different from previous works of yours, mate.

It does reflect your boundless kindness and social conscience, my friend.

cheers,
Jess
Everything changes bar one. Neopoet's 'Prime Directive'-
"Critique don't comment".
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This is a special kind of poetry. You make gold out of velveeta cheese.

Simple, effective, and bloody brilliant to read, Good to have you back, and if this is a taste of things to come. Well enough said, Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

I dont know if you remember me I was Seren in another life ... wonderful poetry its been a while since I found a poem(not just any poem) but a great one... wonderful work

I have only one suggestion

I'd like to believe birds can fly these colors
I would have 'the' instead of 'these' just for flow purposes

Kudos and welcome back

kindest regards Jayne-Chloe

("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

Quite a picture this poem, it would be fun to illustrate it,
I can do that in my mind of course. A lovely bit of gossip,
over the trash can. :)

Ann of Norway.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

to the party again! A special dose of reality here. There are those that are piggy-backed through life by their parents! Rushing off to [coo] the bookies, I understood immediately, I didn't need the metaphor explained. I do agree that the word [the] might be substituted for "these". Welcome back! Hope to see much more of you.~ Geezer

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I'm late to the party...'glass blown hips'...great image.

Perfect assonance 'velveeta cheese'...

'Betty'

Well, howdy, Mr. Quill, 'tis good to see your stuff. It's been awhile, eh?

~Anna

However, I found it a bit confusing (probably a lack of terminology on my part) and a bit choppy. Otherwise, I just can't seem to find anything to complain about. LOL Good to see you again.

Respectfully,
Rett
"If all printers were determined not to print anything till they were sure it would offend nobody, there would be very little printed. " Ben Franklin

had blown off his chances
on your gallop to pay
his horses to coo his bookies ----i understand this now, still think its a little convoluted but the sonics are very original.

I'd like to believe birds can fly these colors
of our strategies away, ---can see how this has the same rhythm of the above, justified even if the sentence composition suffers.

can see the last line completes the rhythm
I should have initially given this poem the attention it deserves, my apologies
best wishes
ross

I will just re stream this with a comment that most know you are a poet so this can be read at the same time as your new poem,
Yours Ian.T
PS:- good to see you return we need many good poets here..

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

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