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For Rebecca

The afternoon curves round and over me
and birdsong comes from across the valley
or closer,
the birds harmonising
like Mingus or Charlie Parker;
the improv almost beyond following
and why bother?
there's no need
the birdsong, without trying is part of me
like a cough or a memory

of you my love.
I can't remember your voice or barely,
only your face on a video reminds me
of who you were, how we loved

and betrayed, how one act lead into another.
Do you think of me sometimes?
Has my voice faded like the afternoon sky?
Does birdsong come to you from across the valley?

Editing stage: 


I Really like this (even though it's free verse lol). Got some ideas you can smoke over and use or discard at your whim.
line 3 replace "or" with perhaps or maybe
line 11 I think I'd drop "my love" and isolate this as a one line stanza to add impact
last line Don't get me wrong, I like this line but thought you might like an alternative :
Do you ever hear birds sing across the valley?

Just a few ideas for this touching poem.............stan

for your ideas, I only wrote it y'day so its pretty raw.

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I can't be critical at this point because I enjoyed the poem too much. Will stop back by later to see if I can offer some aid to your cause.



thanks for liking.

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thanks for liking.

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Just excellent


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I was wow'd by your poem I cant find anything to crit, well done

this poignantly rips at the fabric of the heart

I'm done gushing lol

love Jayne-Chloe

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

I have been looking at some wonderful Youtube's of Neruda's poetry and they inspired this
worth a look 'poema 20' and 'leaning into the afternoons' ( inclinado en las tardes) both combine film, english sub titles, spanish voice over and music.

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That is really good.
The mundane that is soooo a part of us (like my cough... alcohol) juxtaposed with the more obviously potent (memory) caught my attention. The rest is beautiful, but that little point made me think of how I use such things in my writing.

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

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program part of me like a cough... starts of real strong. Takes to me.

Loved the write though it didn't ring as it should have done..
The afternoon (shadows) curve around and over me..
I feel that it would be the shadows that would be the thing that curves over you as the day grows older.???
(as birdsongs come from across the valley or closer,)
Something here has to be plural but seeing that you are using Birdsong as a fix then the other words around it has to be plural ???
the birdsong, without trying is part of me
like a cough or a memory..
like the touch of a memory???
Does the birdsong come to you from across the valley?
This seems to need an additional line to bring in the days events..
Not often do I crit others works hope you can correct my crit if it is wrong, Yours Ian.T

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

Thanks for your ideas. There were no shadows, the afternoon was a clear sky. Birdsong is singular, the various birds making one song but of course not a a real song but as I said a discordant improvisation. I had been watching a tv doco about the history of jazz and how it became progressively discordant and free of conventional melodic structure, hence the reference to Charley Parker and Mingus. Don't be shy about criticising, I'm not, it's what a poetry forum is all about as long as the criticism is constructive as your's was.
all the best
ps it's 6 am and the birds (currawongs) are singing now

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