O mama, mama
hanging up umbilical cords
that the doctor forgot to cradle.
Her quarter moons unkempt;
and the candy-cane lady aids her grieving
tiny bottoms not slapped.
Poor little undone buns
with smiling crooked slits.
The oven bled you to ashes;
and your crumbs scatter
across four corners of grass.
Your germination floodgates break
and empties half-dilated fruits
into our blackened harvest baskets.
The sun shies away from us
the afterbirth colored eclipsed
streaks dents in our field.
Author notes
A poem that I posted on allpoetry. I'm posting here to get a critical review.
This is about miscarriages. I was inspired to write this after looking at a contest on here; and I saw an example discussing a miscarriage. (If you are reading this, I'm working on my entry.lol) It made me think about all the dead children that was never born to my Little Mama. My Little Mama was my auntie that just passed away. She had no children; but she had alot of miscarriages. She was like a grandma to me; and a mother to my own mother. Little Mama and her husband helped raise my mother; and I've always been their grand.
I'm really not a fan of the last stanza. That definitely needs improvement. I'll probably come back to that and edit it.
Now, I really would like help with the rest of this poem as well. I know some of you are capable of doing that. I really would like it here. It's a good idea; but I don't know if I fleshed it out like it should.
Critical Review
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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You used a level of abstract visibility ...
which I love ....Why do you not like your last stanza? I think it is rather stunning. If you HAVE to change it, please consider:
The sun shies away from us
the afterbirth colors eclipsed
streaked dents in our field.... in order to turn that auditive attraction of words more evident.
Otherwise a lovely, refined poem.
Yes: some barren arms can hold more tenderly, while on the other hand, some blessed mothers may be cold, distant and absent.
Peace and joy,
Myra
language: 4, rhythm: 4, subject: 5, tone: 4, form: 4.
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Hi, TR. I clicked on your profile because I am familiar with the poem by Stan Rice. What a strange coincidence that I just posted a poem about barren women. So I don't know if that has biased my opinion here, but I find this poem stunning. It does need some technical cleaning-up, but otherwise, it is superb.
For instance, is "unkept" supposed to be "unkempt"?
Also, I stumbled over:
"and the candy-cane lady aides her
grieving tiny bottoms not slapped."
Would it read better as:
"and the candy-cane lady aids her grieving
tiny bottoms not slapped"?
"half dilated" needs to be hyphenated.
"blacken" should be "blackened."
I'm not usually such a stickler for grammar, but a poem this good should not be diminished by something as small as a few typos.
My suggestion for the final stanza would be:
The sun shies away from us
the afterbirth-colored sunset
streaks dents in our fields.
As Lad said, I read this poem several times over before commenting. The imagery is haunting, and the juxtapositions stunning. I also like how you used the simple, nursery-rhyme like language and rhythm.
A truly excellent write-- I hope to see more of your work.
Pie
language: 5, rhythm: 5, subject: 5, tone: 5, form: 5.
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Hi, Tragic Rabbit.
I was so taken by this tenderly tragic poem that I read it over several times, twice aloud. I think it's terrific. All the images in it (except "quarter moons") hit me hard with their skill and vividness. What I'm missing about "quarter moons" might be an allusion to something deeply feminine, and as a male I would gladly surrender to its meaning; please fill me in?
The poem is filled with your love for "little mama", which your notes tell me is your wonderful aunt who just passed away. I think the poem is a deeply tender tribute to her and to all her losses. Very moving read for me, TR.
You asked about the final stanza. I think your poetic instincts are right, it doesn't work very well, especially as a conclusion to a strong poem. What I now offer you is ONLY a suggestion, RB; it would be entirely up to you:
The sun shies away from us
While dust covers afterbirth
and tears dry to rust our eyes.
Just a thought. If you choose any other way to end the poem, I think it will be just fine; your good poetic sense will come up with something terrific.
Thanks for this moving poem on a rare subject!
Lad -
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I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get back with you on your comment. The last couple of times that I've logged on, I wasn't feeling very well. I just wanted to come on and read, and I really should of just stayed in bed.
You was wondering about 'quarter moons'.
Quarter = the silver tongs of changing diapers
Moons = many months carrying a baby
I liked your suggestion. It gives me a good example of what I can do with the last stanza. My mind just spun an idea as I'm writing this.
I'm glad that you liked the poem also. If all the responses are this helpful on sharepoetry, I see myself posting more often on here. I hardly get any good constructive feedback on allpoetry.com or comments at all for that matter.
-Aly
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Very Deep
This piece was very good, as well deep. i love how you used such a sensitive subject for alot of women. it showed good emotion. i would have too agree with you on the last stanza part but i dont know what you could do to improve it since i dont have much knowledge in this category
good job =]
--Tori
language: 5, rhythm: 5, subject: 5, tone: 5, form: 5.
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