Poems by Matelyn, Alicia, Shannon, Amanda, Mariah

Critiques (new) by Madi (Thanks for sending these)

Mariah’s “Half Lives, Little Deaths”

The title hooked me right away. It immediately clues us into themes of mortality and reminds me of learning about half-lives in high school science classes. The opening line, “Until Deliverance,” suggests a religious element as well. I really enjoyed the different ways you were able to identify death in the world around us: “Every atom is a little death,” “My first death / was a velvet-white rabbit / stuffed with cotton.” The language of the first stanza felt very lavish but not patronizing despite the talk of death. I quite enjoyed the tonal shift in the second stanza with “I read somewhere…”. To me, it sort of connects more with the speaker. I also loved the final standalone line: “One bright leaf, photosynthesizing.” The italics really add to that hopeful idea of life persisting amidst death.

 

Amanda’s “Full”

This poem has such a sweet beginning! I feel like so much could be said with just the opening line (“It’s nighttime, and I miss my mother’s cooking.”) and it sets the tone for so many possibilities. As the poem continues, there’s more subtlety, as if the speaker is longing for more than the mother’s cooking. I’m sure the food serves as a metaphor for something else— though I’m unsure what. “She still cooks for me, / brings me grilled chicken, / or a casserole, or a decadent brownie if I’m lucky.” The “if I’m lucky” might imply some sort of tension or friction since the mother likely doesn’t prepare the brownies for the speaker as often as the heartier foods like the chicken and casseroles. I feel like the title itself could also be interpreted in multiple ways. Of course, there’s the literal feeling of being “full” after a satisfying meal but it could also be used in the derogatory sense to say someone is “full of it.” In this poem, “full” takes on a more somber tone it seems, and the beautiful ending relates to this. The last few lines are a nice echo of the beginning, “I / could never get full of that feeling, the / way her hands hold a spatula, a plate, / an orange, me.” It’s reflective of the idea that a mother’s love is literal nourishment yet to me the speaker’s tone feels wistful, like something from the past is missing in the present. 

 

Matelyn’s “Lungs are Just Less Fluffy Clouds”

I absolutely loved the pacing of this poem. This might be one of my favorites of yours. The short lines and lack of punctuation really work to its benefit. There’s a sense of urgency, angst, and solemnity in this poem with underscores of grief and musicality, all of which add to the poem’s effectiveness. “[T]he death / of winter settles like a / white weighted blanket / resting heavy so heavy / that breathing becomes a chore.” These lines paint an incredible metaphor for feelings of suffocation and breathlessness felt by the speaker, and in turn, the reader. I feel like there’s just enough ambiguity for the reader to apply their own life experiences to this poem of grief, or at least some form of absence, and I also think the final pleading line of “Won’t it all just please stop” is amazing and really ties it all together. The poem felt effortless, seamless, and maintained its momentum all the way through.

 

Shannon’s “what’s to want, in going”

I was very amused by this poem. The title is so bizarre and admittedly confusing. I honestly wasn’t what to make of this poem on the first read-through. It appears quite metaphorical, but I gather the speaker is trying to shake themselves of something—pain, other obstacles to identity? “Those blasted chunks of concrete still try to latch on me.” “The pain wants, and wants then only to have / wanted something different once it’s gotten.” These lines seem to be personifying pain in a way and giving it a “the grass is always greener” mentality. My favorite part of this poem was how it played with language. It felt sort of fanciful while simultaneously humorous and sarcastic. After re-reading it a few times, I started to imagine the speaker performing a monologue and breaking the fourth wall during a play: “They shout at me rawly, them bites when sweat / dreadfully dripped slides into them, like I control how much I sweat.” For me, having that mentality made this poem feel more comical to me, whether or not that was the intention. I also like how this poem seems to deviate from your previous work, at least in terms of structure, relying on a single long stanza instead of more sparse lines.

 

Alicia’s “Time to Heal”

This was another very amusing poem. I absolutely loved how it was all one big stream of consciousness. For me personally, the lack of punctuation is neither here nor there because I think the momentum works either way. There were some instances of punctuation, but I feel like this kind of poem should be an all-or-nothing situation—punctuation or no punctuation. I love how much personality is present in this poem: “I know most of the Bewitched episodes by heart.” “I laughed so hard I cried.“ All the idiosyncrasies of the speaker I think are what makes this poem as well as how self-aware the poem is. I very much enjoyed the ride of this poem and how the speaker binged tv shows to help navigate the pandemic or I guess any trying time in the speaker’s life. I loved the ending, especially the “saving episodes for a rainy day” part, which is actually quite hopeful and speaks to perseverance in a way; controlling what you can control.

Critiques by Mariah

Matelyn- Lungs Are Just Less Fluffy Clouds

The first thing that strikes me about this poem is the way you play with repetition and parallelism, in “the last one / in a series of lasts like / the last gust of autumn” or in “keep on looking” and “but I’m looking” for example. You have a great sense of where to create maximum impact through repetition. In the final lines of the poem that impact is especially strong—here the repetition in the rest of the poem becomes a parallel (and bitter reminder) to this character’s pain as they want the repetition of suffering—even of breathing—to come to a stop. This is a superb example of a poem where form and meaning are solidly married together into a cohesive whole. I’m also envious of the music here. Apart from straight repetition, there is also so much music carried through your line breaks (love “wind before the death / winter” !) and diction (for example in “resting heavy so heavy / that breathing becomes a chore.”) And the economy of words with which you are able to carry so much weight is impressive! I honestly have nothing to critique here. Really well done!

Alicia- A Time to Heal

The format of this poem coupled with the sheer number of pop culture references makes me think of spoken word poetry or of stream of consciousness writing. I’m immediately filled with a sense of nostalgia, but in a way that avoids becoming naïvitey or overly sentimental or syrupy sweet. In fact, by the middle of the poem you are able to thwart that sense of nostalgia so that we know this isn’t a nostalgia-driven poem at all. Yes you are searching for comfort in past things, things from a past era, but there are so many points where they fail to offer comfort. I love, love the whole middle section where you begin talking about your daughter’s (the subject’s?) birth, both for how funny (“ending / with a duck call and a cowbell” but for the painful resolution (and powerful line break at “someone!), “I wish I could talk to someone / on the phone who, like Paul Lynde…” And I appreciate how your title draws us into the meaning here. It’s a fantastic example of how a poem’s title can alter the meaning of the poem and can set a reader’s expectations.

Shannon- What’s to want, in going

Wow, Shannon, that first line of your poem is killer! Love how we are immediately thrown into this tense, surreal situation. Even at the onset it feels as though the “I” in this poem is struggling to live, but is also somehow simultaneously full of an intense self determination—as if they are not willing to let the “blasted chunks of concrete” take complete control. This poem seems to be straddling the line between self doubt and utter self determination—maybe with the indication that the “where” the subject needs to get to is how to be at peace with that tension. In either case, this is an intense poem and some of your word choices really draw out that intensity (“shouting at me to sit in the shade for the quick reprise of stop” is just one great example. My favorite line, though, is “concrete clumps are attending themselves to the underneath of my undercarriage.” The soundplay between ‘underneath’ and ‘undercarriage’ is just so pleasing to the ears and the parallelism between that full line and the opening line is great! The self-assured intensity of this poem really sings with that line. There are a few places where that intensity drops that I might consider altering—with your incredible opening line “though I shouldn’t say teeth…” almost feels like a bit of a let down. The imagery there is really wonderful, but in comparison to the intense tone of the rest of the poem, “though” reads more like a book report than an intense personal drama. (I actually think you could just cut “though” and leave “I shouldn’t say teeth…” and that would keep the intensity.) 

Amanda-Full

Your poem is so sweet! (no pun intended) I love how you use food as a demonstration of the mother’s love—both in the obvious way that your (or at least the subject’s) mother’s cooking was a way she showed love, but also in the more indirect way that her cooking is only the manifestation of an even deeper relationship. It’s always apparent throughout that this poem is a sentimental ode to the subject’s mother, but I think it takes a step beyond mere nostalgia partly because it does become symbolic of the entire relationship. To me the last few lines really sell this symbolism. They not only convey the loving relationship but pull it into the concrete. This isn’t just a poem about being fed, it is—as your title indicates—a poem about being full, or even about never quite being full because the things we love are often lost, through time, through fractured relationships, or ultimately through death. Those last lines “I could never get full of that feeling, the / way her hands hold a spatula, a plate, / an orange me.” indicate an amazing attention to detail and draw attention to the fact that it is often the little things a person does (like baking a casserole or holding a spatula) that we love—and come to miss. Although this poem isn’t about that loss directly, I come away feeling that the subject is drawing attention to these things in order to urge us to appreciate them and to not take them for granted because they are all too quickly lost—but of course that’s just my reading. I may be wrong! Either way, this is such a beautiful piece. I would say editorially, there are two points that struck me as redundant. I don’t know that you need to say “I love my mom’s cooking, but I love / my mom more” To me this seems obvious from the rest of the poem. And this same strikes me as true before the last three lines where you say “good food.” I think you could cut both these without losing much meaning.

Alicia's Critiques 

Mariah, Half Lives. Little Deaths. 

  

The last line that’s separated from the rest of the poem caught my eye first. Placement of the word Photosynthesizing in italics seems to indicate that’s the main focus of everything written above it. As I go through the poem, I’m looking for the “one bright leaf” (good metaphor) that survived the blast at Hiroshima.  Miscarriages are experiences of mourning, so your reference to “a little death,” literally, it is “little because, as you explain, “every atom”- that’s little.  I wish I knew more about the imagery you use when you mention the Red Worm and Wood Thrush. I like the adjectives you use in “blemished leaf” and “biting gnat.” I’m thinking about the velvet white rabbit stuffed with cotton- perhaps a childhood toy that you wore out with love? (“milky thread” held it together).  I found National Geographic’s definition of photosynthesis online: “Most life on earth depends on photosynthesis. The process is carried out by plants, algae, and some types of bacteria, which capture energy from sunlight to produce oxygen and chemical energy, stored in glucose, a sugar” and I find myself wanting more in regard to your last line. 

 

Matelyn, Lungs Are Just Less Fluffy Clouds 

 

This poem is about grief and death, loss of a loved one. It was quick to read and right to the point. I’m wondering about the title- I see it’s about breathing with “lungs,” but when I think of fluffy (good word!) clouds, I  also think of airy, bright white smoke that can be transparent and beyond the blue skies. I like the appearance of the poem- it makes my eyes want to keep going rapidly to get to the end to see what happens. I like the metaphor of “death of winter settles like a white weighted blanket” (snow!). Taking a photo with a loved one, feeling the loved one’s pain, the loved one trying to be strong for the other person, but the imminent death of the loved one is felt strongly here with the last line emphasis on tears- “Won’t it all just please stop” in italics is effective.  

 

Shannon, what’s to Want, in going 

 

There’s lots of good imagery in the poem. I feel pain from the description of  “teeth bitten hands,”; and then making it harsher with “needles”; and the mention of “bites” a few times (ouch!). The experience or knowledge being “concrete” indicates the speaker is confident that what’s being explained is truthful. Ultimately, I noticed that when I first read the poem I underlined “concrete clumps…trying to latch on,”; “It’s no good job to hitch a ride to where I’m going, never good for rock and stone” – maybe the speaker knows they’re on a path they really don’t want to take, but somehow they feel helpless? And they don’t want to take anyone with them because they are still trying to figure out (it’s a rough road for the speaker- that’s obvious) where they want to go.  

 

Alicia (myself) A Time To Heal 

 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to critique my own poem, but I’d like to because when I put poems away for several hours or a few days or a few weeks, etc. and look at them again, I change a lot of stuff or I see something different in it that I didn’t notice before. I loved the “Optional freewrite” given by Professor David Dodd Lee on this assignment. It gave me ideas for future poems I plan to write. I timed myself for 11 minutes and wrote fast not thinking much. Wow! The subconscious mind is wonderful for writing poetry. I plan to use this “Optional freewrite” again. I’m looking at my notes and from the “Optional freewrite,” I wrote down (in 11 minutes): “toad lily,” “hem gauge,” and “grows.” (I hope to do some more poems in the future with flowers and sewing).  Then I opened a book (“Letters Home” by Sylvia Plath and edited by her mother, Aurelia Schober Plath) to page 50 and one of the words Sylvia used in a letter on that page was “rambling.”  Then I thought of a car that I’ve been admiring- the 1967 Chevrolet Impala called “Baby” by Dean Winchester on Supernatural. After my 11-minute timer went off, I just started writing and came up with most of Poem 2 (not using everything from the freewrite, but I would say I was “rambling”). Of course, starting out with what I remembered as a child because I was reminded of it by Poem 2’s Diane Arbus’ (love her work!) photo with the Halloween mask and ran with it, each idea triggered consecutive ideas for this poem. My first draft included most of what you see in this poem. Then, as a writer, every day I looked at it and changed things till I felt like the poem was where I wanted it to be, then I turned it in- Lots of editing. I originally gave it a different title, then thought of “seasons” --seasons of shows, obviously, then how life is made up of seasons of the year, and seasons of living in regard to the Byrds’ song, “Turn! Turn! Turn! To Everything There is a Season” which is also a bible verse. This poem is about coping and healing from a rough time.  

 

Amanda, Full  

 

Great title! The arrangement of this poem is very good. My eye wants to keep reading till I get to the end. The speaker gives beautiful credit to a mother’s love for a child and vice versa. The food in this poem is a great sense of imagery for me because I think of the sense of taste when reading it:  Grilled chicken, decadent brownie, an orange. The speaker is on her own, but still sees her mom and mom still has stuff for her to eat. Most mothers are associated with food. The love and care mothers take are a big presence in this poem. Mentioning her mother’s love and compassion and looking at her mother’s hands- noticing the way “her hands hold a spatula, a plate, an orange, and me” – Wow! I love it and I’m right there with you in memories of my own mother.