Young Writers Society

It didn’t hurt.
It was like when I was in second grade
and I took that turn too sharply.
The gravel was loose and
my bike slid sideways
like it was pulled by invisible ropes
through those pointed rocks.
I followed

A couple of band-aids
over raw knees,
raw palms.
You stitched me up like a surgeon.
“Everything heals darling,”
You caught a runaway tear
with your thumb.

Please don’t hate them.
I hope you’re listening, Mom.
It’s like when the man
rang our doorbell and told us
we had three days to leave.
You thanked him anyway
before you closed the door.

Months later
the bullets punctured our new house
like scissors through paper.
You nearly crushed my ribs
the way you held me
under our kitchen table,
guarding me like a soldier
before the gunshot noises finally ceased
and left ringing in our ears.

After we cleaned up the shards
and dust from the casualties:
Your favorite vase,
The living room window,
You kissed me on the forehead
And pulled my covers to my chin.
“Honey, if I ever leave you,
know I’m never far from here.”

Please don’t be angry, Mom,
at those boys who took me from you.
Be thankful that it wasn’t those bullets
instead, when I was so young.
Be thankful I got to blow out
those sixteen candles on my cake.

Everything heals, Mother Darling,
I’m never far from here.

hi
welcome to YWS
loved the poem. it really brought ut the emotions beautifuly.
great work. i really like the way you started the poem.

Please don’t be angry, Mom,
at those boys who took me from you.
Be thankful that it wasn’t those bullets
instead, when I was so young.
Be thankful I got to blow out
those sixteen candles on my cake.

i love this stanza. i guess i can call it my favourite one.

congratulations!
keep writing!

- manisha

This poem made me tear up at the end; it was so beautiful and emotional.

A couple of band-aidsband aid's
over raw knees,
raw palms.

Band-Aid is a brand, but if you want to say "Band-aids" it should be written as "Band-aid's"

Your favorite favourite vase,
The living room window,

You just missed spelled Favourite,

Everything heals, Mother Darling,
I’m never far from here.

I love the last stanza because the speaker was repeating her mother's words to make her feel better, and bring back the memories and the love.

I absolutely loved this poem! I think it was amazing and I usually don't like a lot of poetry. So I highly Congratulate you and hope you keep writing.

This is such a sweet and emotional poem, but it doesn't come off as sappy or cliche'd, which is really cool. It does leave a lot of questions in my mind, but that's the nature of poetry isn't it?

Please don’t be angry, Mom,
at those boys who took me from you.

I don't know what this means. Is the speaker a boy or a girl? My implication of the lines changes dramatically if I imagine a boy or a girl, which is awkward I just posted a poem about girls being just as hardcore as boys ;__;

Be thankful I got to blow out
those sixteen candles on my cake.

This can be either happy or sad. I don't know if the writer of the poem is a ghost or someone who "came of age" thinking of their childhood or what. Still, that is the beauty of poetry.

Wow. *sniff*
Really felt this one. The start immediately caught my attention, "It didn't hurt". Brisk and to the point, with a nice effect. The innocence and pure-heartedness of a mother's love really comes through here, and the 'no regrets' kind of feeling I feel too. It flowed well, and each stanza was well wrapped up with it's own meaning. I also liked how your main point to your mother, "please don't hate them" is consistent, in the way it is telling your mother not to live her life just missing you(the 'you' used metaphorically).

Beautiful, but a question.

Please don’t be angry, Mom,
at those boys who took me from you.

I don't get the meaning of this. Please explain O.O
Spelling errors were already corrected above

Again, felt this poem was really nice. I don't usually feel poems this deeply.
Okay, so I think I should be done.

Oh and Welcome to YWS! (a bit late, I know)
-Keep Writing! You have a gift for this.

At times the inclusion of the like button to pages on this site really bothers me. It allows people to express their admiration with one hand, without truly expressing what works and what doesn't about a piece. The problem is it's much easier to simply click like and forget about it, than it is to actually critically appraise a work and offer it the review it deserves.

So I have given it a once over. It appears you have had some damn decent reviewers overlook this and simply like it which is a shame, because someone like me might come along - someone much less qualified critique poetry - and ham handedly scratch at the work to find its flaws, of which there are many.

I think a line-by-line will suffice.

mattstillwaugh wrote:It didn't hurt.
It was like when I was in second grade
and I took that turn too sharply.
The gravel was loose and
my bike slid sideways
like it was pulled by invisible ropes
through those pointed rocks.
I followed

Okay not a bad intro. But tell me why is it like sliding off your bike? The metaphor tumbles over with a soft jab. Readers want rolling metaphors that stay with them till the end. I think this is a lovely poetic image, it also shadows a past trauma and provides a premise for you to exhibit how loving and caring the mother was, and how she mended the hurt. But, consider what happens when you actually ride a bike and it slips out. You are in control, you are already scared/excited, because you are hurtling about on your push bike, it's an exciting new adventure for a kid in second grade. Then wham the unthinkable happens, completely unprecedented. Now compare that to the death of his mother. Killed by some 'boys.' Was it smooth sailing until her death? Was he excited and jittery then wham. I don't think he was. So when you say 'like' what you are really saying'it's kind of like, but don't think about it because you will realise it is nothing like.' Which isn't strong enough for this poem. This opening metaphor needs to be strong enough to carry the poem to the end, it needs to resonate when we reach the last words. It doesn't so change it. I would recommend something softer, something seemingly insignificant. Like opening a box of cereal to find it empty, or you could be so hackneyed to use the nightmare metaphor, if you are clever you can still own it.

A couple of band-aids
over raw knees,
raw palms.
You stitched me up like a surgeon.
Everything heals darling,
You caught a runaway tear
with your thumb.

Good god. That was a painful bump, like a stunned dog caught in headlamps. One, it's rather literal. Surgeons actually stitch people up, the subjects mother is stitching him up. You see, the like a surgeon isn't a subtle cadence, a note that breaks away for effect. Rather it is a lazy little cliché dropped in, it's amateur. Two it's not a particularly well constructed line. It seems as though you have tacked on the simile because you thought you had to, to stick to some scheme or structure, perhaps? You also don't need to always address her. So

You stitched me up

could read just,

stitched up, with needle and thread

anyway,

Please don%u2019t hate them.
I hope you're listening, Mom.
It's like when the man
rang our doorbell and told us
we had three days to leave.
You thanked him anyway
before you closed the door.

Okay I know you are trying to foreshadow the coming explanation as to how she died. The pronoun, them, gives us that little insight. But the two lines are too weak. They don't contribute to the piece and they certainly don't open up this stanza because they aren't related to any other line. I would say move them, but on second thought, why would you bother? Where ever they fall they will cost you. Slash through them with red ink and forget about it.

Months later
the bullets punctured our new house
like scissors through paper.
You nearly crushed my ribs
the way you held me
under our kitchen table,
guarding me like a soldier
before the gunshot noises finally ceased
and left ringing in our ears.

I'm starting to see why no one critiqued this. Don't take this too hard, but this needs a lot of work, and general advise probably wouldn't cut it. Take the above stanza as an example. I have edited it below, see the difference.

Months later the bullets
stitched across the wood-board
under our kitchen table,
Your arms trembled around me
and when the clatter ceased
a hum remained, high,
daunting as the widows siren.

The words aren't your only tool for striking a chord with the reading. Consider the effect of the line break after 'bullets.' Also consider how much more clear imagery is conveyed when I chopped away the clichés and added a little originality. Okay from here I will just highlight the clichés because I have covered the big stuff.

After we cleaned up the shards
and dust from the casualties:
Your favorite vase,
The living room window,
You kissed me on the forehead
And pulled my covers to my chin.
Honey, if I ever leave you,
know I'm never far from here.

Please don't be angry*, Mom,
at those boys who took me from you.
Be thankful* that it wasn't those bullets
instead, when I was so young.
Be thankful I got to blow out
those sixteen candles on my cake.

Everything heals, Mother Darling,
I%u2019m never far from here.

JP

Hi
Beautiful poem! I loved every word. It's very strong, where did the inspiration come from if I may ask? Personal experience? I'm looking forward to reading your next one now Sorry I can't give much of a review, I don't have much experience in writing.
DITR

Congratulations. I'm in awe.

That doesn't happen often.

You did something remarkable here. Something truly extraordinary. I wonder how you did it, how you ever found the words. And I can't help but adore this and adore you for them. So effortless it all seemed. Ridiculously effortless. I found myself wrinkling my nose in the beginning thinking it was one of those poems, and yet it wasn't. It was so far from it.

Again, might I add, this doesn't happen often. I'm usually not struck by certain poems. I think, the only other piece that has ever made me so confused was a fellow YWSer and his has that same, aching feeling. That same simplicity that would normally irritate me immensely.

I'm stunned. Really.

Post more. You've captured my attention.

~Walker

I don't usually like poems but I really liked this one.

One little thing.

"Everything heals darling," "Everything heals, Darling,"

But I loved the little memories included especially the falling off your bike.

Wow, what a way to make an entrance here at YWS!

Let me start off by saying I loved this poem, although, I’m sure based on the 27 likes that you can see here on YWS you pulled more than a few heartstrings.

Anyway, I don’t need to, nor do I think I could bring myself to, correct anything.
I just have a few structure suggestions.

Here I go!

The gravel was loose and
my bike slid sideways

I think it would sound better if you said "The gravel was loose, *new line* and my bike slid sideways"

I followed

Maybe, "I simply followed" just an idea ;D

“Everything heals darling,”
You caught a runaway tear
with your thumb.

I was thinking, "'Everything heals darling,' you said, *new line* as your thumb caught my runaway tear."

Just some of my ideas.

You have a wonderful voice!

Keep writing
~SnowBerry

The poem was articulated magnificently. Especially the last line as everyone has mentioned earlier. The poem increased my curiosity on knowing the real story behind such poetic words. Keep up the goodwork.

I am amazed at how effective this poem is. I love it.
At first, I have to say I was a little bit skeptical because as much as I'd like to think I don't judge a book by it's cover, seeing that you were a new member I chose to label you as inexperienced.

I quickly realized that my assumption was very wrong.

I enjoyed this poem a lot, and I did tear up toward the end. I think that regardless of who reads this, it can be related to very easily by most for the very subject of a mother figure.

I don't have anything negative to say about this piece of work, and I urge you to keep writing and I look forward to more pieces from you!

Congratulations!

Just a quick note, darling. Be careful when reading the review of WelcomingException. The word can either be spelt 'Favorite', if you are in the U.S. of A (though spell-check shall pronounce you as incorrect), or, if you are in the Brit's turf, it can be 'Favourite'. Just like the whole 'color' 'colour' issue.

I love the powerful and vivid emotions used in your poem. I love poetry and am published in several books locally. I am trying to get the support of members to go public with a new poem, The Man Staring at my Heart, a self narrative/poem in which I capture the essence of the life I have lived. Back to you, incredible poem. Keep it up.:>

WOW, I REALLLY REALLY REALLY LIKED THIS, now if you ask my family.. i have no emotion, heart.. or compassion… but this really really almost made me cry, and welcome to YWS, you'll love it. if you need anything, let me know….OH, and PLEASE CONTINUE WRITING, BECAUSE YOUR AWESOME. and im not going to pick through your poems, i'll leave that to someone else.. LOVED it, bye bye,