Trains

Spoiler

Very slightly edited NaPo piece

"Michael Bronson '92"
The words are rough under my fingertips,
splintered gashes carved into my bench.
I think he must have been here with his family,
waiting for a train to take them out east.
He probably had to take time off from his job,
but he didn't mind.

And his daughter, she ran down the aisles
between patched-up suitcases and crumpled wrappers, a ballerina
spinning on her pointed toes while the tired-eyed strangers looked on.
Her reckless purity was seductive,
and in a final tribute to free will he scratched
his name across the peeling boards.

The letters feel soft and warm against my skin,
like fresh cookies and old jeans bleached in the sun.
They lick at my hand, tasting something familiar:
"Michael Bronson" Yes, that could be my name.

...I'm a little confused. Is the person remembering something? Or is he imaging something? Is he imaging he remembers something? Or is it a lost memory? Although it might fit your piece, I don't like it when things are unclear. XP

And why did he feel the need to write "a final tribute to free will"? I didn't completely understand that part.

Overall, this was very nicely done. I like your descriptions, especially

The letters feel soft and warm against my skin,
like fresh cookies and old jeans bleached in the sun.
They lick at my hand, tasting something familiar:
"Michael Bronson" Yes, that could be my name.

even though I don't completely understand it. How can letters taste like cookies? How can a bench feel like jeans?


....oh, you're listing things that are old and familiar.

And I like the "they lick at my hand" phrase. Nice.

As a whole, I this piece reads very easily and smoothly, which is a very good thing. I enjoyed reading it, so thanks for posting this.

This poem has a really great feel to it: I love the imagery you use, the tone is beautifully contemplative and it's very well put together. I have a couple of comments for you but to be honest, there's not much at fault here:

"Michael Bronson '92"
The words are rough under my fingertips,
splintered gashes carved across my bench. [I really like the possessiveness of the bench. Not sure about splintered gashes though. Or at least it should be carved into rather than across if you're going for that gouge effect. But maybe consider spicing up the language a little. You could always extend it and put a simile or metaphor in to describe how the carving looks.]
I think he must have been here with his family,
waiting for a train to take them out east.
He probably had to take time off from his job,
but he didn't mind. [Love the change from the maybe to the definate. A really smooth transaction there.]

And his daughter, she ran down the aisles
between patched-up suitcases and crumpled wrappers, [I'd suggest having your line break here.] a ballerina
spinning on her pointed toes while the tired-eyed strangers looked on.
The recklessness of her purity was seductive,
and in a final tribute to free will he scratched
his name across the peeling boards.

The letters feel soft and warm against my skin,
like fresh cookies and old jeans bleached in the sun. [Gorgeous image.]
They lick at my hand, tasting something familiar:
"Michael Bronson" Yes, that could be my name. [I like the open endedness of this, the search for identity, whether recovering his own or that of a man he merely feels a connection with. It's very nice.]

See I warned you I didn't have much to say. I think this poem is pretty much perfect as it is, very nicely done. I'll even give you a 'like' which I don't usually bother with,

Heather xxx

Mornin’, Shadypoo.

Not Important:
What you have going on here is nice; it feels rustic and warms you up when you read it, much like a thermos of coffee while taking that one-way trip out west into an unknown. You’ve touched it pretty delicately, but the conduit line of this poem is the great possibility of every happenstance detail we pass every day. It’s a strong tool when used correctly, and I think you have a good swell of potential in these few lines.

Somewhat Important:
We’ll start with line two. We already know they’re words, so I want to see that changed into something that will aid the image. Tactile imagery, sensory descriptors, whatever. This image needs help, and I think that that’ll be the ticket to giving it enough blood. For some reason, the first time I read this, I took “my bench” as an indicator that the narrator was a hobo who smelled of soup, so consider humoring me in de-hobofying this line. When you hit the narrators thoughts about MB92, your stride and phrasing is pretty steady, at least in this stanza.

I don’t like your line breaks in stanza two when you’re talking about the girl. It feels a little thoughtless and “seizure-on-the-enter-key”esque. I think this feels wrong because the two lines mostly describing the girl happen to be

1. The most strenuous image on the reader in terms of amount to read, and
2. The two inordinately lengthy lines.

Not sure how I feel about “Her reckless purity was seductive,” because of the sheer connotations that are attached. I know you’re talking about it being contagious rather than seductive, but it just takes it the wrong direction. But if you’re all for making your reader whip themselves into shape, then have at it. I won’t stop you. No sir.

Stanza three comes with a mood-breaking image that I’m not that fond of; yes, fresh cookies and sun-bleached jeans are soft and warm, but I really wanted a quencher to the feel of train/wood/suitcase imagery. It’s just an off-the-wall motif that you may want to consider reigning in a tad bit.

Other than that, your last line is the most devious of cliffhangers, but it’s a wonderful ending.

The thing I love most about this piece, and the reason I think I didn’t like the image of the girl dancing (described so specifically), is because you did a good job of writing in all the possibilities of what could’ve happened without saying too much or too little. There are novels in your sentences, and I like that (and do a good job of preventing in my own poetry). A prime example of this is found

I think he must have been here with his family,
waiting for a train to take them out east.

I love the power in this. The power of implication: you has it.

That about wraps things up. Let me know if you need anything or have any questions, or if you edit, as I’ll be glad to take a second crack at this.

Very Important:
Keep writing.



-Ty

Ladddd. I do love the edits you made to this, it subtly improves the piece and makes it quite pleasant to read.

What I'd like to address with you is the some of the imagery you use.

The letters feel soft and warm against my skin,
like fresh cookies and old jeans bleached in the sun.

Beautiful line yes. But the latter line feels plopped in, an extra. It's got no real connection to the previous stanzas and solely serves to continue a sort of tone. It's like in third grade, where you add adjectives for the sake of adding descriptive words to look smart. It's adding images for the sake of adding images to look more thoughtful.

It's sloppy to plop that image down like that.

And that continues into my next point, you have a story the you follow really well but you branch off every couple lines into an image you don't pursue enough (imo) it connects to the story, but it's like a branch of the image, it's not circling back to contribute to the final point of the poem.

Mostly stanza three suffers that with the line because it's so apart from all the other themes you pick. It's out of place when it would of been best to continue your previous themes and not bring in something new right at the end.

Her reckless purity was seductive,

Quite like Lumi, I'm uncertain of this line. First the way it flows is kind of odd and different from the rest of the poem so it feels weirdly worded and out of place. The implications of seduction don't have a place in this piece I don't think, it's all very soft, whispered tones of a sense of space and feeling. The blatant statement of seduction just ruins that. It's like you couldn't think of a way to describe it so you just used the word at the top of the list.

I'm glad I followed your NaPo.

Kamas