Cinder-ash [Version Two]

There should be no need for a prelude but I find the urge to write one, this is one of those poems I write intended for a specific reader but this time it will be shown and for that purpose, it needs to be as good as it can be so all criticism is doubly appreciated. Especially seen as I'm now letting her read my early draft so it has to be unrecognizable by Christmas

Cinder-ash

I always wanted what you had;
stealing down the shadow-ways
to snatch at - discarded bottle caps.
Your warmth had left its mark in cinder ash.
Paused for but a breath,
(the light stepping in your wake)
flitting like a magpie between crimes;
you requisitioned what was mine.
A scarlet pen.

But boredom blunts the edge
and games are fast outgrown, by birds of prey.
Of these the magpie is the queen:
not content to gouge on flesh
but carnivorising idealistic dreams.

Found convulsing in a ruby lake,
I gathered it with cautious hands,
made steady by your leash.
My pen leaked cinder ash
in rippled finger-prints.

I used to think we walked - on railway tracks -
but now I see they're rivers,
fluid and all driven to one point.
We're guided by these pages,
rules and regulations scribbled by collective
early minds.

Mark for Mark. Here's mine:
a corner with my words, scratched-
in cinder ash.

Kitty15 wrote:I always wanted what you had;
stealing down shadow-ways
to snatch at - discarded bottle caps.

The hypen there after "to snatch at" is unnerving because there seems to be no reason to pause before "discarded bottle caps"; it works well flowing together but not torn in two. If you really want to keep it this way, however, at least move "discarded bottle caps" to its own line underneath.

Your warmth had left its mark in cinder ash.
By then, you'd be far away,
the light stepping in your wake,
flitting like a magpie between crimes;
you stole my heart.

This was getting good right before you pounded the last, cliche-ridden phrase on us. I mean, really -"you stole my heart" is the singular most-abused phrase in the history of teenage lovesick romance literature. Don't spoil the piece by including it here, just delete it. Or at least replace it with something a little more original.

It was almost like a game to you
but boredom blunts the edge
and games are fast outgrown, by birds of prey.
I found it, convulsing in a ruby lake.
I picked it up with cautious hands
(made steady by your leash)
and feared to scuff that cinder mark.

I've carried it for years since, across
the feathered blankets of a mountain top
and solace by the waters on stormy days.
We had a lot of those.

Convulsing seems like the wrong word to use here. I'm sure that if you had the desire to pick it up, you wouldn't use such an assaulting and brutish phrase as convulsing, which makes me think of some ugly goblin thrashing about in waters of the soul. A heart has to look like a heart, not a twisted fiend, otherwise it would make no sense that you'd forgive such an abomination.

Again, cliches roam free in these stanzas. The first stanza was actually well-written because you introduced the reader to imagery I certainly haven't heard before much, and the theme went hand-in-hand with such imagery, making for a fine piece. The second stanza, however, is where it all breaks down again. Stormy days are supposed to represent disagreements and fights, correct? This is the second more egregious cliche you've used since "you stole my heart" and it needs to go. I've heard too many times, far too many times, about someone braving storms of love to carry a heart over to paradise. It just doesn't work.

I used to think we walked on golden tracks,
but now I see they're rivers:
fluid and all driven to one point.
We're guided by these pages,
rules and regulations scribbled by collective
early minds.

Last line needs to be edited; "collective early minds" is too technical for the tone of the rest of the stanza and the rest of the poem at large, it sounds like something from a history or Philosophy 101 book.

It's time your page was edited by partner's hands
but always treasured will this corner be,
that has my words, scratched-
in cinder ash.

No comments about the last stanza, except for the fact that the second line sounds slightly convoluted and too passive for the stanza's assertive nature. Same thing for the first line, to a lesser degree though.

Hope that helped.

Thank you! I'm really grateful for the critique and you're right, some of the imagery really does need shaking up. Hmm. I'll give it a good brush of my editing pen on Friday and see what I can do. Thanks again!

I always wanted what you had;

I think it would sound better as, 'I've'

stealing down shadow-ways

to snatch at - discarded bottle caps.

I don't understand the bottle cap part. I don't think it flows with the following lines.

Your warmth had left its mark in cinder ash.

I loved this line, loved it.

By then, you'd be far away,

the light stepping in your wake,

flitting like a magpie between crimes;

you stole my heart.

I agree with galerus on this line, too cliche. I just don't know how to change it, perhaps get rid of it?



It was almost like a game to you -- comma

but boredom blunts the edge -- period

and games are fast outgrown, by birds of prey.

Where'd the birds come from?

I found it, convulsing in a ruby lake.

Now your at a lake, which i'm sure is blood, not really a lake?

I picked it up with cautious hands

(made steady by your leash)

I think it would be fine without the parenthesis. I also liked this line.

and feared to scuff that cinder mark.



I've carried it for years since, across

the feathered blankets of a mountain top

and solace by the waters on stormy days.

We had a lot of those.



I used to think we walked on golden tracks,

but now I see they're rivers:

fluid and all driven to one point.

We're guided by these pages,

rules and regulations scribbled by collective

early minds.



It's time your page was edited by partner's hands

but always treasured will this corner be,

that has my words, scratched-

in cinder ash.


This poem likes to jump around a lot, from there to here to I don't know!
I somewhat get the meaning and i feel that it could be cut finer, you know? You didn't make a whole lot of sense in some places by throwing in random words and lines. Like the prey and lake.

This poem has many ideas to it. too many. It's too scattered.

I did like it though, it just needs to be re-fined and more solid.

I loved the parts where you include the cinderash, But one thing i noticed is that we start out in a worldly area and then we end in pages of writing, was that meant to happen? If so it was great!


I did like this!


Good luck and I hope it goes well!


all the best,


---Jon---

P.S. -- I hope i wasn't harsh or mean, i didn't mean to be if i was.

No, that was great, thanks Jon. And what you said about it moving from a solid world to a world of writing was one of the main bases for my poem. I'm hoping to make this the first of two parts and it's sort of following my relationship with my older sister. And well, we started off with little in common except for blood and worldly goods and then that advanced into our writing relationship.

From there its since moved on again or is moving on so I'll be writing a part two in December.

But ah, how to make the imagery make sense to more than just one person? That one person being me most of the time because even Claire wouldn't get the bottle caps part in its full meaning. But... I don't want to use bread crumbs. I want this to be separate to my poems with allusions to fairytales because this one's real.

Anyway, thanks for the help and I'll see what I can do with my re-write! I'm probably thinking too much.

I just lost my critique cos the stupid computer froze! I've moved pcs now... I'd try "the" before "shadow-ways@, which is a lovely phrase. I love "discarded bottle-caps". The fourth line is great. I think the fifth is weak. I'd try "into" before "your wake", and I love this line.
The first line of the second stanza is weak, especailly "almost". Try something more direct and fresher. I love teh alliteration of "boredom blunts." The following line is great. I love " found it convulsing by a ruby lake". It's my favourite line in the poem. I'd try something snappier and more powerful than "I picked it up". I love "made steady by your leash."
I think the third stanza is a bit watery. The rythm is off, and lines one adn four are weak and a tad stale, though the lines in between are beautiful. I'd read this verse aloud to get a better sense of how it sounds.
I think the fourth stanza could be slightly more powerful, but as a whole I can't fault it.
The end is fluid and effective, but I wouldn't twist the syntax in the second line.
Hope this helps.

Jas

Thank you, dear. *snugs* You're always helpful and I think I'll print everyone's comments so that I can have them beside me when I find time to edit.

Okies, version two is now officially up. I'm much more pleased with this but it still needs to get better so comments would be great! And if you read version one, I'd really appreciate it if you let me know which you liked best...

I always wanted what you had;

stealing down the shadow-ways

to snatch at - discarded bottle caps.

I Think i get the bottle cap thing, you mean you always wanted what she had even if it was used? or even if it wasn't wanted anymore by her because she once used it and if you re-use it you might be like her? That's what i get from it anyway...

Your warmth had left its mark in cinder ash.

Paused for but a breath,

This jumps from what you were saying, although, I like it.

(the light stepping in your wake)

Do you need the ()? I like this line though!

flitting like a magpie between crimes;

you requisitioned what was mine.

A scarlet pen.

So your sister stole what was yours, right? and this hints at her jealousy? I'm probably wrong, I'm just referencing this to when you said this was about your sister.


But boredom blunts the edge

and games are fast outgrown, by birds of prey.

Once again, I don't like birds of prey, Maybe you could switch it to something else?

Of these, --comma? the magpie is the queen:

not content to gouge on flesh

but carnivorising idealistic dreams.

My favorite line, its truly brilliant! although there is no such word as 'carnivorising'



Found convulsing in a ruby lake,

I gathered it with cautious hands,

made steady by your leash.

My pen leaked cinder ash

in rippled finger-prints.

Great imagery, i see ashes falling out of a crimson pen. I love it.


I used to think we walked - on railway tracks -

but now I see they're rivers,

fluid and all driven to one point.

We're guided by these pages,

rules and regulations [s]scribbled by collective[/s]

By early minds.



Mark for Mark. Here's mine:

a corner with my words, scratched-

in cinder ash.


Okay heather, This was a very nice re-write. I definitely like this version better! I thought it was absolutely brilliant, although some things could be 'tweaked'.

I must say that is the most fabulous poem I have read in quite a while. I love it, you have quite a way with words, so many people on here are hung up on editing that they don't seem to stop and soak up the meaning or beauty in the poetry for that is what it's really about. If you want it perfect that's what editors are for. I must read more of your work, it is so....inspiring, intriguing, awesome.