Giving Thanks

This was, in my highly regarded opinion, the best poem you have. It was much simpler than your other ones, much more accessible--probably why I liked it so much.

I actually quite liked the beginning. It really pulled me in and pushed me out, what actually tied up everything. Yes, it was unneeded-ly violent--but it was an attribute that really defined the poem and showed the reader what the deceased one is missing.

Speaking of the devil... the part with the grave and the deceased was really expected. This is probably the most tragic flaw in this fascinating poem. Of course, it'd be late to change it now--but if you wrote it all differently and made it like the person just ditched the dinner, it would have been more mundanely melanncholy, rather than dully tragic.

I agree with everyone when I say: Delete this:
You were supposed to be here for this.

So, good job.

I liked it. The imagery was nice, and there was an innocence. As if the speaker was young, and didn't quite know what was going on.

I definetely liked it.

You know, I always feel really awkward reviewing work done by people older than me, not to mention more experienced than me. But I saw that you won the 'Best poem' award, or you tied with xanthan gum, so I thought I would read some of your stuff. I probably won't have anything even remotely useful to say anyways.

November is when wine bleeds in erratic patterns
and massacred cranberries sit plump
among the string beans screaming beneath paprika.
And emptiness is a turkey without dressing, potatoes
without gravy, and loneliness is a can of cream of corn,
unused, at the back of the pantry.

Mother insisted that you would not be joining us
despite my protests to the contrary; "He is not here
to give thanks"--her words--though I wonder, if you were,
what you would give thanks for.

Oh but Via, you can't make too much of the violence of the vegies, otherwise you'd lose the point that nobody makes much of the violence of the vegies.

Actually it's very Tool, that bit. You know, the song "Disgustipated":

'One thousand, nay a million voices full of fear. And terror possesed me then. And I begged, "Angel of the Lord, what are these tortured screams?" And the angel said unto me, "These are the cries of the carrots, the cries of the carrots! You see, Reverend Maynard, tomorrow is harvest day and to them it is the holocaust."'

Funny thing is about your work, Brad, first time I read it, generally, I loathe it, completely, then about the third time I think it's genius, best thing that's ever been conceived by human hands. Every heroin addict once had a fear of needles.

Thanks Via. I have been toying with ending S3 on "leave" instead of "go". I think it would push the reader into the next strophe without it being so clumsy.


Thanks!

PS: agreed on the "violent" imagery seeming a bit out-of-place. I'll have to think more about it.

I can see where the line break was intentional as well, and why it would be so, but it did make me have to reread it and was slightly confusing...which was the only reason I mentioned it.

I still would like to see the violence of the veggies played out a little more. It is kind of detached from the rest of it, but I think it's the most interesting stanza.

I think it's because "string beans" and "string beans" sound too similar

Out of all the massacre metaphors, this is the one I disliked the most:

among the string beans screaming beneath paprika.

I think it's because "string beans" and "screaming" sound too similar to each other and the words muffle each other and it doesn't come off as strong as it could be.

Also:

You were supposed to be here for this.

Mother insisted that you would not be joining us
despite my protests to the contrary;

I think the real reason why that doens't work is the "this" and the "us" also seem weird, being coupled at the end, because although I know the italics is supposed to be a whisper, something behind the scenes, "this" is a stronger word than "us" and it sticks out as such.

EDIT: Silly Clau... I made perfect sense!

Thanks all!


For me, the last stanza also brings back the image of the dying tree that returns, plus what Colleen has pointed out.

The "violence" in the first stanza was intended to be coupled with infinitesimal or irrelevant violence; we don't hear string beans screaming, we don't see or feel the cranberry massacre (this is of course what Via was edging towards)--small battles that in the end no one will chronicle or care to remember. I don't think these are stretches or that they wouldn't naturally happen upon the readers--I could be wrong--but in light of that, would anyone care to reiterate a point? That would help much in the revisions.

As far as italics are concerned--for the most part, in my poetry, I've always imagined them read almost monotonously, as a whisper, background noise or an echo. But that, I suppose, is why writing receives such mixed response.


Best,
Brad

I have to agree with Colly here. The first stanza has too many "violent" words that intend to shock, but don't. It's only until the turkey comes about that you actually seem comfortable with the poem -- as if you forced your voice into being violent, and suddenly you snuggle up with your words.

Once more, the italicized word sticks out, and probably not in a good way. I don't know how you can transition it, but it's not working as it is.

A typo: "clinging to any wamth/they can find." But I don't really like that part since it seems a little cliched, so if you want to delete it and put something else in it instead, I would be completely for it.

And that's basically it.

But I do like the overall theme.

Like the others, and as always, I'm a fan.

I disagree, though, on the beginning...I disliked the first stanza. Well, not all of it.

wine bleeds in erratic patterns
and massacred cranberries sit plump
among the string beans screaming beneath paprika

And emptiness is a turkey without dressing, potatoes
without gravy, and loneliness is a can of cream of corn,
unused, at the back of the pantry.

You were supposed to be here for this.

And November,
December: despite the loss of every leaf,
the trees come back, their spindly branches
outstretched like a beggar's hands, clinging to any wamth
they can find.

Via--


The linebreak was intentional (Suz's catch wasn't), but I suppose if its intent wasn't obvious, it isn't working, and something needs to be reworked.


Best,
Brad

Not entirely without pith. I like your first stanza's initial violence and then somewhat satirically saccharine analogies. Complex, and yet mundane, Americana and eviscerating the empty American dream, this is refined and paradoxical, lovely.

The italicized line makes a good transition from sardonic verisimilitude to a raw if flawed sincerity in the next stanza. Brutally poignant, yet not diminished or made sentimental.

The last stanza is more considered, balances the others well. Solemn, elegant.

V good. Completely gut wrenching obviously, but v v good.

**hugs tight**

I liked it as well. The food in the beginning was funny and well put--like the woman downtown in my city that sings songs about how "just 'cause a radish can't scream" doesn't mean it's not vegetable slaughter. That was probably my main attraction to this, though. Well done. :]

The break between "I would go" and "everyday" is odd, just a blank line...was it a typo?

Also, this seems more narrative in my opinion than dramatic, or maybe a little of both.