And she exits stage right

[amacash]

I place the gun to the mother’s head,
The three of us exposed, alone.
My hands are still, her breath is shaking,
Together we stand, pasts unknown.

White knuckles on the pushchair,
Her eyes now wide and wide.
Unsteady, uncertain, desperate,
Her knees buckle as our worlds collide.

The bright moon is our spotlight on this empty stage,
The wings are weighted down.
Her soft sobs bounce off the empty seats,
As a coldness wraps around.

Hands fumbling, she takes off her jewels,
Heavy, dripping with golden glare.
My palm is upturned, I reach out to her,
And she places them in with care.

The gun in the centre binds us,
A mountain peak of heavy slate,
A dark valley and a light one.
She looks at me with abject hate.

My eyes glance down to the child now,
Asleep, dreaming, blanket pulled up near.
I must have been soft and young one time.
Long before I filled up with fear.

The scene ends and it’s time that we part,
I turn, run away with full might.
But the ground passes fast down below me,
I’m still as she exits stage right.


***************************

Any comments/thoughts/suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

[Nick Pierce]

If she is sitting on a wheelchair how are the knees buckling?

[amacash]

Originally Posted by Nick Pierce

If she is sitting on a wheelchair how are the knees buckling?

The mother is with her child who is in the pushchair. Pushchair might be a 'British-ism' - it's a stroller. Not sure if this now makes a bit more sense to you. And how to avoid future confusion...

[Grace Gabriel]

Hi amacash,

I like the subject and the setting.

I'm one of the minority who writes and enjoys rhyming poetry - doing it skillfully is hard. Not doing it well is a car-crash - four lines on the horrors of Auschwittz can wind up reading like a birthday card verse. Humorous poetry can get away with flawed meter. For something like this piece - it needs to be as tight as a cambelt to make it powerful.

Line 3 : "her breath is shaking" and line 6 : "her eyes now wide and wide". Can you see any problems here?

In the last verse, the scene playing out in your mind hasn't found its way on to paper.

'I turn' (...ok)

'my legs spin' (...now picturing Wile E. Coyote)

'I take flight' (...you're a pidgeon?)

'the ground passes fast below me' ( a pidgeon on a plane?)

'Yet i'm still' (....eh?)

I know what you're getting at - but your description doesn't deliver . Think through the actions again and it would be worth your while re-writing the last verse.

There is a gem here if you can work on your description (do legs spin? does breath shake?) and meter. Something sparkled bright enough for me to pour another coffee and delay bedtime. x

[Nick Pierce]

Originally Posted by amacash

The mother is with her child who is in the pushchair. Pushchair might be a 'British-ism' - it's a stroller. Not sure if this now makes a bit more sense to you. And how to avoid future confusion...

Yeah. Now I get it.
Ain't English a hoot?

[Nick Pierce]

[QUOTE=Grace Gabriel


tight as a cambelt


[/QUOTE]


The part that opens and closes the valves, right?

Over here it is a timing chain.



I see what you see. The piece has meat.
The serving of it needs tended to.




Yo, amacash, you comin'back?

[amacash]

Thanks so much for drinking that coffee and giving me all these great tips. This is my first stab at poetry as I've always been a bit intimidated by it. But I have to admit I really enjoyed it.

My vision of the end is that despite the 'robber' being the one to turn and run, it's actually the woman and her child that is able to leave. I was picturing it being the robber running, almost as if on a treadmill, getting nowhere, and the mum being taken off to the side. I wanted her to be exposed to this ugly, desperate world by the robber, yet she is the one able to escape it. The robber stays firmly in situ. I'm not sure if this makes any sense, but this is certainly what I had in mind.

Your Wile E. Coyote comment made me laugh a lot!

I am going to have another go at this and will try to post it in the next couple of days. Again, thank you for your comments and delaying your bedtime!

[amacash]

Originally Posted by Nick Pierce

The part that opens and closes the valves, right?

Over here it is a timing chain.



I see what you see. The piece has meat.
The serving of it needs tended to.




Yo, amacash, you comin'back?

I'm definitely coming back! Got to have another stab at this...

[amacash]

Hi Grace Gabriel, Nick Pierce (and anyone else!),

I've been working on my poem this evening and have found your comments about meaning extremely helpful. But I am struggling a little with meter. I just re-wrote it with a consistent rhythm throughout, and I hated it - it sounded like a limerick! So I am not too sure about how to get the right balance. Do you have any thoughts/tips or any suggestions as to who I read to get a better sense of this?

I've had a go at the last verse, as well as changing a few things which might have perhaps helped the meter?! I'd love to know what you think.

Thanks!

[Grace Gabriel]

Hi amacash,

My suggestion would be to put it to one side.

Write it again without the shackles of verse - concentrating on your word craft. Don't worry about line breaks and construction - just focus on being vivid and succinct.

When you have the two versions - compare them. Trust me, they'll be completely different. You will either recognise one as your finest expression - or you'll amalgamate components of both to create your finest expression.

It's great that you're enthused but a more lasting and valuable tool is to help you see for yourself what works. There is always an audience somewhere that will clap mediocrity or send you a cash prize. Once you get a strong instinct for what is your best - you'll never be content delivering anything less.

I think specific critique is often damaging because people start re-hashing a piece with all the heart of doing homework corrections - and end up with something they don't recognise. If it's not spontaneous - it died on the operating table. Go with your own judgement.

Would you say "I ran away with full might" in natural conversation?

I felt the ground beneath my feet. From the top of the Eiffel Tower, I looked down below me

Grace x

[amacash]

Thank you Grace! This is amazing advice.

[Grace Gabriel]

Pleased you found it helpful amacash.

In the meantime, spend some time on the site reading and commenting. You'll grow in confidence and ability just by hanging out and interacting with other writers - and make some great friends.

Hell, I love you already.

[Grace Gabriel]

Originally Posted by amacash

I'm definitely coming back! Got to have another stab at this...

Did you do anything with this Amacash? x

[KBR]

Wonderful imagery, but I didn't like it being cast a scene. In particular, the hands and where they were and the movements of the two was distracting.

As an exercise to try and rethink the poem, I sometimes pare back the whole thing and only pick the words that convey intent. It will be very sparse and kind of angular when you do this. I've done a strip down or your poem to demonstrate this approach. Your pare back would be so much better because you know what you intend. But for me, this kind of austere beginning helps me to focus on keeping only the words matter that convey meaning or intent. Then, gradually add back the connective tissue that puts the muscle on the bones. But wonderful start with lots of potential.

Hope this helps!

place the gun
exposed alone
her breath shaking
we stand

White knuckles pushchair
eyes now wide
desperate
worlds collide

bright moon empty stage
wings weighted down
soft sobs empty seats
coldness wraps

Hands fumbling off jewels
Heavy golden glare
reach to her
places with care

gun binds us
mountain peak
dark valley
looks with hate

My eyes the child now
blanket pulled up near
soft and young
filled with fear

we part
I run
ground below me
she exits right