Four-Leafed Clovers

Four-Leafed Clovers

Surprising that we would find so many in the small
places in the sun, and to think, statistically, the number
there must be in the lawns all over this town. I am jealous
the way a child is jealous, because Bella has found three
already, and I only one. A cloud passes somewhere
over the distant gas stations, the bakery, roads rolling
down to the city, where it is raining—

but here it is vaguely sunny
in that way that is warm but not bright because
storms hover nearby. And we push ourselves
off the grass when the trees rustle and the air hums.

I know some days you just snatch a little less
luck out of the dirt than the next human being.
The rain comes as I bicycle home. Mud whips up from
my wheels. A clover wilts inside my pocket.

Hi Cade! Nice to meet you!

Anyway, on to the crit:

General

So, you are basically putting one idea per verse? I like it! Great originality here. I have a few thoughts concerning this however. At first read, I decided that it wasn't as poetic as I might have thought. The verses to me felt like a story, even though it was quite clearly a poem. Why? Because you use a lot of words here, to depict what potentially could be rather simple. For example:

Surprising that we
would find so many
in this small place in the sun,
and to think, statistically, how many
there must be in the lawns
all over this town.

I felt here you could have expanded on the imagery to convey this effect, it was severely lacking what, in my opinion, helped the general feel of poetry. That is not to say however, that a poem is only a poem because it is crammed full of metaphors. On the contrary, some of the most powerful poems have the world have been a mere three lines long.

In other words, cut out the pointless info. I don't think you needed the statistics part, and if I were better at poetry I might be able to help you there--tame just crept into mind. Emotions are by far the most important ingredient to a poem.

Good luck, great poem!

Very nice poem! However, there were some parts that did not go well with the flow. It's very creative and enjoyable, with a lot of imagery, but it needs some improvement.

Since JezzaP has pointed out your mistakes above, I cannot think of anything else to say.

Good luck & keep up!

Oh, wow. The imagery in the is awesome to the max. I think it's earned a gold star already for the vivid picture of a happy memory with deeper thoughts and meanings. It's truly dramatic poetry, at any cost.

I liked the run on lines, the personal touch of the use of a name 'Bella' which instead of alienating the reader actually brings me closer- I want to learn more. The leaves and the thoughts on the sky with clouds overhead is just great.

However- now, I'm not totally certain this is wrong so please pull me up on it if it is a mere cultural difference between the way we say things, but this sounded a little odd:

The rain comes as I bicycle home,

Now I realise that I could be completely wrong- and I probably am, but in Ireland we would say 'cycle' home. No matter. Great poem.

Eimear

Cade,


Consider:

1. re-titling this "Four-Leafed Clovers"
2. cutting S1
3. reworking the enjambment of S2, which at present is at odds with the whimsy of the poem; finding better things than "gas stations" and "bakeries" for the clouds to roll over--these are everywhere, and don't do anything to further placement of the reader in the story
4. at the end of S3, cut the analogy to your internal storm; your external scenery should accomplish it, and it seems like an unprecedented, clumsy turn towards the navel--in fact, leaving it with the trees rustling from the approaching storm is a much stronger endpoint for this strophe than your insides
5. in S4:

The rain comes as I bicycle home. The rain
slips down my neck, and something wilts
inside my pocket.

So, a very quick revision would be:

Four-Leafed Clovers

Surprising that we would find so many in the small
places in the sun, and to think, statistically, how many
there must be in the lawns all over this town.
A cloud passes over the distant gas stations,
the bakery and roads rolling down and out of sight,
where it is raining—
................................but here it is vaguely sunny
in that way that is warm but not bright
because a storm blots the sky. We lift ourselves
from the grass when the trees begin to rustle.
The rain comes as I bicycle home. The rain
slips down my neck..........Something wilts
inside my pocket.

Other notes: you use a lot of generic bleh verbs. "The rain comes," "A cloud passes," and such, which hinder your poem from being as striking as it could be. I've only suggested mechanical reparations, but give it some time, and I'm sure you'll think of a more significant way to improve this.


Cheers,
Brad

Thank you all for commenting! I've posted kind-of-an-edit.

JezzaP - I agree with your comment that it didn't sound "poetic" enough. It drives me crazy in my own poetry.

Lil_Pau - Are there any particular parts that come to mind?

Eimear - Here we would probably say "bike home", but I disliked the way it sounded. Too sharp and too vernacular.
Also, real-life Bella would be delighted to hear you like her name. She's a friend of mine and I was inspired to write this after spending some time with her when we were, in fact, looking for four-leaf clovers in this grassy area near an intersection in town.

Brad - Thank you for your suggestions; I used a lot of them in my edit, which is still rough. I have kept the gas stations and the bakery (which I changed to a singular bakery after your comments), at least for now, because they were a part of the scene as I remembered it, though obviously that has no bearing on your like or dislike of the poem as a reader.

Thanks again!
-Colleen

This has been in my 'To Critique' box for awhile, sorry it took me so long to get around to it. First, I love your poetry, and I think what I love so much about it, is that it tells a story; and your diction while accessible is not hindered being by that fact at all.

I don't really have a lot to say that hasn't been said, but TADA! anyway.



Ta,
Cal.