My Mother and I

I wrote this a little over a month ago for a poetry contest. I felt like posting something, so here it is.
---

My Mother and I

We bond over weekly crime shows
where a jealous husband kills his wife
and you show off your new, expensive things
while I'm careful never to ask how you have the money
or how you'll pay the bills next month.
The empty words remind me of when I was ten.

When I was ten
you worked graveyard at the casino
and went on long dates with men.
It's hard to imagine, but you were young too,
just trying to find yourself
among flashing lights and children's toys.
I didn't know to think anything of it.

Four years later, I realized I was lonely.
Baby sitters and boardgames were fun,
but where were you in my crayon box memory?

The truth is you were always there
but in the only way you knew how.
If I scraped my knee, you came to the rescue,
but when I tried to make you a birthday dinner
you went out with your boyfriend instead.
Maybe you didn't know what to do
when I gave you the menu I made by hand.
I didn't know what to do, either,
when you left.

Now I feign interest in your new hobbies
so we can at least have a conversation.
Television commercials and Hallmark cards
say we should be best friends,
though even now I'm wondering
what I can do to understand
this maternal specter
made with makeup and hair spray
called my mom.

I was scrolling through the "new" dramatic poems and I noticed yours because no one had written you a reply but now I understand why.
When you stumble upon a poem that exudes tragedy, especially one that you are not experienced with, it's very difficult to critique that! Especially when no one else has!
Your poem is intimidating! Regardless of if whether the experience was created or imaginary it feels real (and that's the most important thing)
Honestly, I'm not capable enough right now as a writer to ciritique this, but I can at least reaffirm you on this one thing: it's a good poem. It's intense, but it feels honest to me. It feels bittersweet and that how people like to think real life tragedy is so....good job.

Hello,

There are some very creative images tucked in the folds of this poem, such as:

"...Four years later, I realized I was lonely.
Baby sitters and boardgames were fun,
but where were you in my crayon box memory?... "

Although, part of me thinks this should be: "the crayon box of my memory."

"...what I can do to understand
this maternal specter
made with makeup and hair spray
called my mom."

I could almost taste that sweet and sticky mist, and recalled heavily the memory of sitting still on the hamper, so as not to be told to go out, watch the slim hand apply black mascara to thin eyelashes, wondering if it hurt. The familiar face transforming into the distant, yet even more familiar, stranger.


I like how the piece scatters from the present to the past, like a china plate hitting the floor.

I think you should write a poem to follow this one, possibly two more. Thoughts worth collecting, worth gluing back together.



Lastly, I have a book recommendation for you: Songbird by Lisa Sampson. It looks pretty stark and cliché on the shelf, but the writing and story have a beautiful capturing effect.

Ah! Darlings! Thanks you two. Haha Yatta! Your comments made me giggle. I wasn't aware that it was difficult to critique because it was so tragic. @_@ Though you found yourself not so capable, thank you for the comments anyway! All are worth it and the best way to improve is at least to read what you think you cannot understand. I'm sure you'll improve quickly with the attitude you have.

@Mandorelute: I adore you, do you realize this? Your one tiny edit seems so perfect, and I am left wishing I could have done that before sending it off... one word can make such a difference. I'm glad the images brought back your own memories, as I was hoping they would. It seems like certain things between a mother and her child are common, like watching one apply make-up, or what have you. I guess, in conjuring up your own memories, I've did the best I could as a poet! You suggest I write more poems though, and I admit I'm a bit lost on what I should follow this with. Since what I wrote about is very much reality for me, I wrote what I honestly know. The best I could do for others would be to focus on the present, and I'm not sure it would be as entertaining as this depressing snippet was.

I will make a great effort to get my hands on this book, as well. ^^

Thank you so much for the reviews, again! Your kind words will always be remembered.

Hi Clau.

I really shouldn't attempt to critique your poetry as I always love it too much. Oh well. I'll give it a shot...

I love the first stanza. The beginning is very fresh and grabs the attention instantly. It flows perfectly. I especially love;

"We bond over weekly crime shows

where a jealous husband kills his wife."

I'm just wondering about the "and you..." I think I'd either change it to " (comma)while", or start a new sentence completely, as otherwise it sounds like the speaker's mum is in the programme, waving her shopping around while the husband digs the grave...

"How you'll pay the bills next month." works well.

I'd cut "The empty words remind me of when I was ten." because it's watery, and you don't need it because you proceed to discuss the speaker's early relationshop with her mother.

I think that;
"The truth is you were always there

but in the only way you knew how."
is too much telling and not enough showing, and that you could afford to get rid of these lines completely.


I really like "When I was ten

you worked graveyard at the casino

and went on long dates with men."

your language and imagery is perfect, and it flows easily.

I love;
"Four years later, I realized I was lonely.

Baby sitters and boardgames were fun,

but where were you in my crayon box memory?"


"but when I tried to make you a birthday dinner

you went out with your boyfriend instead.

Maybe you didn't know what to do

when I gave you the menu I made by hand.

I didn't know what to do, either,

when you left. "
is very powerful.

I think I'd try to find something other than "scraped my knee" as it's too easy an image, and that's more obvious when contrasted with the rest of your (original) imagery.

The ending is powerful and painful and serves as a perfect conclusion.

A pleasure, as always Clau.

Jas

Hey!

Wow.... that's all I can really say. I felt myself reaching out to the narrator, it that rarely happens in poems. Great job!

but where were you in my crayon box memory?

This was my favorite line in the whole poem by far. It shows a small memory, but there's a sort of childish part thrown in, as represented by the "crayon box".

The empty words remind me of when I was ten.

As Jasmine Hart said, this line's a bit watery. I would suggest taking it out too.

I guess all I really wanted to say is that this felt very real to me. It may just be made up, but I felt like I was actually talking to the narrator, sympathizing with her as she told the story of her childhood.

Great job, and keep it up!!!!!!

zOe

This is probably the most unhelpful review you've ever got but all I can say is that is was BRILLIANT! Moonstar x

Hello.

Very interesting way of writting.

It makes me think of the poem Batter my heart by John Donne

BATTER my heart, three person'd God; for, you
As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow mee,'and bend
Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new.
I, like an usurpt towne, to'another due, 5
Labour to'admit you, but Oh, to no end,
Reason your viceroy in mee, mee should defend,
But is captiv'd, and proves weake or untrue.
Yet dearely'I love you,'and would be loved faine,
But am betroth'd unto your enemie: 10
Divorce mee,'untie, or breake that knot againe;
Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I
Except you'enthrall mee, never shall be free,
Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee.

because although they are nothing alike it just makes me think of it!

good work
I hope you continue well done

Anna! I told you I'd do this! And I am!

First, for all we have such hugely different styles, I like it! I'm just gonna do lines, ok? <3 Forgive the rust; I haven't critiqued poetry in so long! I may turn lit geek nuts on you, here ^^ So take it all with a grain of salt!


We bond over weekly crime shows
where a jealous husband kills his wife
and you show off your new, expensive things
while I'm careful never to ask how you have the money ok, fair warning, I'm a cutter. I cut everything I possibly can and then some, so uh... humor me, please? And feel free to ignore parts of this, since it does have to do with our contrasting styles ^^ But! I want to make this do this:

and you show off your new, expensive things
while I'm careful never to ask
how you'll py the bills next month

Too much? I think it may be... yeah.

or how you'll pay the bills next month.
The empty words remind me of when I was ten.

[s]When I was ten[/s]You just said this! Rather, cut it, start the line below, and add "then" after casino. How does that sound? Other then it rhymes, ew
you worked graveyard at the casino
and went on long dates with men.
It's hard to imagine, but you were young too, I think this is our different styles coming in to play, but! "but you were young too" just throws me off this stanza. I want it to read "It's hard to imagine you/just trying to find yourself" but I don't think that captures what you want to say, right?
just trying to find yourself
among flashing lights and children's toys.
I didn't know to think anything of it.

Four years later, I realized I was lonely.
Baby sitters and boardgames were fun,
but where were you in my crayon box memory? I love this. And I disagree, I wouldn't change it at all, since you get more images this way, I think. Instead of just naming memory as an object, you get the naming as well as the image of a child doing something -- action that I need you need in this poem, since it's much more reflective, and thus more in stasis, rather then motion. Does that make sense? Or am I going too far in to lit geek mode?

The truth is you were always there
but in the only way you knew how.ok, here, I love what you're trying to say, but I think you can say it better. First, kill the first three words and start with "you" to start teh stanza, gives it more emphasis. Then, you almost hit the idea of the disappointment felt, but you never outright say it, which is good, but the way you word around it doesn't hit right, for me. I want to take out the "but" since you're not really making a "but" statement, here. You're saying "You were there," and then "you where there." There's not "but" to that, so either reword that, or take it out, and maybe do something like "You were always there/in the only way you knew (how) - also not sure I like ending on "how", but I think that's just a little too nit-picky.
If I scraped my knee, you came to the rescue,
but when I tried to make you a birthday dinner
you went out with your boyfriend instead.
Maybe you didn't know what to do
when I gave you the menu I made by hand.
I didn't know what to do, either,
when you left.

Ok, I lovelovelove the last four lines of this stanza to absolute pieces. The ones above, with your examples? I'm goign to tie this back to what I said earlier. You're showing me, and I don't want to be shown. I want to see what you're doing, and I'm not getting much imagery out of this, and it's a shame, because you have some beautiful possibilities. So I ask, how did you scrape your knee? Use that to make the mother a hero, and something talking about baking for the second example? I don't like the distance between the speaker and audience here, since this poem feels like it's personal, I want the personal examples. The last four lines do this so brilliantly to me, and I want them to be supported by the lines preceding.

Now I feign interest in your new hobbies
so we can at least have a conversation. Telling! Gimme an example!
Television commercials and Hallmark cards
say we should be best friends,
though even now I'm wondering
what I can do to understand
this maternal specter
made with makeup and hair spray
called my mom.

And you end that beautifully. One tiny suggestion? "of" instead of "made with"? And I almost want you to leave out "my" in the last line, since it's implied really strongly already, especially with your title.

But! I like what you have, Anna! And thanks for letting/helping me break in my crit muscles!

Bek