going to work too early makes my mother tremble, fill up with worry
“say a little prayer before you leave,” she says, handing me a booklet she has used all these years
she tells me she had been guided by that tiny prayer book whilst she gave birth to me, my sister and my brothers
and i think to myself, maybe it will pass the same kind of protection to me
maybe not
going to work too early makes my mother tremble, fill up with worry
“leave a little later, maybe when the sun cracks open the sky and darkness would no longer be alive” she says, holding my hand a little too tight
i don’t think i can do that, mom
i’ll run late, and you know how that creates knots inside my stomach
nausea kicking in, forgetting how to breathe
forgetting how to breathe
breathe, breathe, breathe
i don’t want to see the sun shining as i walk through the same paths, drive through the same roads as i did yesterday and the days before that
“wait until the moon and the stars are no longer in sight, will you?” she says, still holding on to me
you don’t understand, maybe i don’t too
but this is the only time i can telepathically write letters to the moon
i wonder if anyone else looks at the moon without waiting for the sun to devour it soon after
without waiting for something else, anything else to happen
going to work too early makes my mother tremble, fill up with worry
“it’s too dangerous outside” she says, her voice shaky as she stares deep into my eyes, something she doesn’t always do
i know, mom
i know
i have become afraid of this country too
hungry for streets painted with the blood of its people
blood of nameless children no longer nameless
blood in every corner, the stench tingling our noses, reminding us of all our recurring nightmares
blood and violence in a crazy mix driving everyone to their feet
to their wings
i am afraid too, mom
but mom, i have to go
outside where i can’t pretend to be blind
outside where i can feel danger’s foul and heavy breath licking my neck over and over again
outside where i can do more than just ignore what’s happening out there
because i can’t close my eyes anymore
because i can’t
because i won’t let myself
going to work too early makes my mother tremble, fill up with worry
but i step out anyway
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125,005 Literary Works • 672,805 Reviews
Hi there! Just a short review here to leave some of my thoughts on this fine review day!
First welcome to YWS and congratulations on already posting! I hope to see many more of your poems in the future.
Formatting/Style
Now the first thing I need to comment on is the styling formatting of the piece. Normally I don't like to linger on this, but you really did something unique here with the format so it's worth commenting on at length.
As Kara mentioned often poems are divided into stanzas with short little lines like 12 words at the most -- but you sort of combined the normal formatting with "prose poetry" which is where you adhere more to the rules of prose writing. Prose poetry normally requires the use of a lot of poetic devices (ie. rhyme, metaphor, repetition, alliteration etc) because without it, people are bound to ask, "isn't this just a short story" and completely misunderstand the meaning. The benefit to prose poetry is people don't really get distracted by line lengths and are more apt to read the whole piece kind of at once rather than philosophizing about each line individually -- they take it all together.
I'm not sure that combining both methods was effective for two reasons.
1) By taking the really "poetic" elements and removing them from the long-lined prose sections, the prose sections ended up reading as just prose or interludes to the poem itself.
2) It ended up seeming pretty random and/or arbitrary why you switched back and forth.
I would suggest sticking to one method or the other for the most part for a piece like this so that you can either capitalize on the benefits of prose poetry or normal poetry formatting rather than not truly achieving the benefits of either.
Last formatting comment, I don't think the lack of capitalization and minimalistic punctuation helped either - it sort of went with the feeling of "trembling" but again I didn't really understand the purpose of it.
Moving on,
Theme/Plot/Characterization
I thought the overall theme was pretty neat. You were able to quickly establish a feeling with the repetition of the mother being worried and establish conflict -- where the characters have to leave. It's sort of a unique theme and I think it was executed pretty well. In a way we could see the child leaving as a metaphor for coming of age or becoming their own person, or interpret it as inheriting their mother's worry -- there's a lot of interesting implications.
And the hint of bravery in the last line "but i step out anyway" is just the resoluteness that as a reader I wanted at the end of the poem. One aspect I wanted a bit more background on was the mother's backstory -- I see the spiritual elements but couldn't directly understand how those related to her feelings. But overall I liked the characterization of both characters.
I look forward to reading more of your work in the future!
best,
~alliyah
Happy Review Day!
Hello Iridescenceofbeing!
First I must say that the repeating sentence is really powerful, and it's already a great piece of poetry to find such an haunting 'chorus'.
The alternating pattern of long and then short phrases transmit quite well the tension, I think, between the motionless fear of the mother and the impatience to live of her daughter, even though in some way it breaks the natural flow of the reader, it is the form I guess you ound most suited to the feeling you had to express.
(I don't know where you live, if the danger is just part of your imagination of the mother's one, but it sounds totally authentic!)
Most of all, the imagery is talking: the title, the 'chorus' and the mother seems so real with her booklet, it doesn't feel like a parody of character.
Good piece of writing here, keep on!
Hello iridescenceofbeing! Welcome to YWS! Kara here for a (hopefully) quick review!
going to work too early makes my mother tremble, fill up with worry
great job and keep up the great work.
Give me your soul.With that aside, I'm not the best at poetry but here we go!
Bold = grammar and flow issues.
Italics = suggestions and overall
Strikethrough= removeUnderline = krazy Kara komments.
Spoiler
“say a little prayer before you leave,” she says, handing me a booklet she has used all these years
she tells me she had been guided by that tiny prayer book whilst she gave birth to me, my sister and
mybrothersand i think to myself, maybe it will pass the same kind of protection to me
maybe not {I would cross this out, actually. It reveals the secret, atheist side of you and this feels like you really don't want people to know it}
{Add a "--" here to separate stanzas}
going to work too early makes my mother tremble, fill up with worry
“leave a little later,
maybewhen the sun cracks open the sky and darkness would no longer be alive{,}” she says, holding my hand a little too tighti don’t think i can do that, mom
i’ll run late, and you know how that creates knots inside my stomach
nausea kicking in, forgetting how to breathe
forgetting how to breathe
breathe, breathe, breathe
i don’t want to see the sun shining as i walk through the same paths, drive through the same roads as i did {many days before}
{--}
going to work too early makes my mother tremble, fill up with worry
{Added paragraph}
“wait until the moon and the stars are no longer in sight, will you?” she says, still holding {onto} me
you don’t understand, maybe i don’t too
but this is the only time i can
telepathicallywrite letters to the mooni wonder if anyone else looks at the moon
without{,} waiting for the sun to devour it soon afterwithout waiting for something else, anything else to happen
{--}
going to work too early makes my mother tremble, fill up with worry
“it’s too dangerous outside” she says, her voice shaky as she stares deep into my eyes
, something she doesn’t always do{you don't need the extra information}i know, mom
i know
i have become afraid of this country too
hungry for streets painted with the blood of its people
blood of nameless children no longer nameless
blood in every corner, the stench tingling our noses, reminding us of all our recurring nightmares
blood and violence in a crazy mix driving everyone to their feet
to their wings {oof. this is powerful}
i am afraid too, mom
but mom, i have to go
outside where i can’t pretend to be blind {wait what}
outside where i can feel danger’s foul and heavy breath licking my neck over and over again
outside where i can do more than just ignore what’s happening out there
because i can’t close my eyes anymore
because i can’t
because i won’t let myself
{--}
going to work too early makes my mother tremble, fill up with worry
but i step out anyway
Oof.
This is your first poem on YWS?
Impressive. Most impressive.
The imagery, metaphors, everything was excellent and professionally done. The only think you seem to have trouble with was flow and stanza separation, but I fixed those problems
Why haven’t you given me your soul yet? --
Kara