Description: soap shavings, caught in the carvings of a ring.
thoughts, as usual. EDITED: for suggestions
strange to remember you -------------------------------------------
sifted remains in the underside
of her onyx and gold ring,
held up clean and ivory-bottomed
to the thinning daylight.
gather and melt into
almost forgotten face held between
happy winter-mittened hands
of lover-years before.
petal and wilt in soft curtains to become
brown eyes that believed
the tips of the flames in the fireplace
were fey plans of mischief,
crackling wisps and bathing the air
with faded magik laughter.
the only kind to use against her skin;
she's complete and 23, in a place
where long silences are a joy,
pitch darkness is a blessing and
his love is a release
from the weary weapons of the days.
writings that have a random subject but brought down to a deeper meaning makes me confused. slow reader. slow at understanding. so i read this a couple of times. i think my idea of what this is about is wrong. soap = discovery? hmm. figuring out how to explain. soap showing the REAL inner beauty.
scented shavings gather and melt into a smiling, almost forgotten face held between happy winter-mittened hands of lover-years before.
the soap showed her the smile she never showed. her true face was shown.
i liked it though. was something new to me. i know i looked at it completly wrong.
Interesting. I seem to be saying that a lot today. It's starting to sound cliché. . . like me. . . he he he. Okay, I'm really not that weird. Anyway, I love the metaphor of this poem. I love poems that use random subjects like this to describe something deeper anyway, though soap shavings is definitely one of the more unique ones that I've heard here lately. I don't quite see the connection but there you have it, I'm weird that way. I wear rings all the time and never take them off, at least one of them anyway. This was pretty cool. Not really sure where you were trying to go with it but I liked it nonetheless. -Secret
This is awesome Grace. I liked the way each stanza zoomed in a little further on the shaving-and in turn the enhanced image gives even more details of the shavings and the memories and thoughts they evoke. The second stanza where you add "scented"started this bittersweet chain of successive images with the shape-a curved smile-it is my favorite I think- "scented soap shavings gather and melt into a smiling, almost forgotten face held between happy winter-mittened hands of lover-years before" I found that a very poignant blend of love and loss, very beautifully presented.
Then the scent becomes "Gardenia" and another layer of imagery blends together sweet scented flowers fading and turning to flames and a hearth shared by two lovers-so another intimate layer of of feeling washes over the reader. This sequence-with the pictures fading and blending together has a dreamy surreal quality which again underscores the deep yet delicate emotions here.In that stanza i felt there should be a pause, comma, dash-something -after "mischief"-as that line runs onea bit awkwardly into the nest. When I read it with a pause there, it seems to flow better.
Then the deeply touching final stanza, the cerulean shavings and the thoughts voiced there, allow us a glimpse into the personality of the young woman-" she's complete and 23, in a place where long silences are a joy, pitch darkness is a blessing and his love is a release from the weary weapons of the days." These lines convey a sweet and flexible strength, a self confidence and the essence of the soothing, healing nature of love-where even the thoughts of the beloved create a peaceful refuge from the rest of the day. I find this extraordinary, that you elicit so many touching images -in an ever more evocative spiral-and it all begins with the soap residue. You snare the reader into web of idle daydreams , a web that would shame Arachne's handiwork. Bravo. Silver
i loved this poem. soap shavings are almost like flower petals in a way. i always love it when the soap gets widdled on down, and i just bathe in the leftover petals. great imagery, and even better observations on what most people take for granted. excellent write.
it amazes me that you could write such a poem about something as simple as soap shavings! that is truly a talent, my friend! this did have that wistful air about it. my favorite stanza is the one about gardenia soap shavings..."petal and wilt in soft curtains to become/brown eyes that believed..." simply beautiful. well done!
Always a picture that gets clearer as you go. Each first line giving us more is a clever device and the more being soap by stages is oddly mundane yet captivating. I've been on a consideration kick lately - that is the consideration a writer shows their reader. I like that you always consider what you're giving us. Everyone is a winner as a consequence. And the language is bathroom steam and visions of mirrors that are of no practical use. Each verse, oddly sad and complete in its own right compliments the next or previous. Well told tales of the small things being the most evocative. Like rioja stained napkins... K
It should be 'long silences are a joy', if you're bothered about grammar.
This is a sweet piece of description, if a bit sentimental for my taste in parts... One pet hate of mine is the word 'magik'. ? Why? What's wrong with 'magic'? Why? Why? Why? Why? but that's probably just me. The sound of the phrases flow together very nicely... a tranquil, reflective poem... Becky
i love the happy winter mittened hands...i was hoping when i got the message that you had posted the one from your journal..not that i don't like this one..just i liked that one better:P but us writers and our self-confidence;)
also i was trying to think of the format where you do the repetition of the first line of each stanza...but i'm dumb..so i'll just say that it works really good here.
It's interesting how you took what was just an ordinary observation and expanded it into a wave of nostalgia. The unusual premise makes it one I liked reading. Also, I really like the last paragraph, it sort of made the rest a little easier to understand.
This feels like the thought process of someone older than 23, but as you wrote, quite a complete person in themselves. A rare quality. I might think of the shavings as softened remains in L2 rather than sifted, but I'm possibly not understanding. Love cerulean, I'm not sure how long "we poets" will be able to use that one before getting attacked for making it cliché'. Very peaceful, and now you have #10! Dave
Pardon the long absence...i've really missed reading your stuff...i wish i could tell you what i like about this piece, but it would reduce me to babbling incoherently "mmakd...brilliant...ddesl...aaimagesburningdullinmyheadaa...andsoft...dusky fading memories shining too bright for morning eyes..." It is just an excellent piece...i've always really liked how you write (not a very eloquent comment from someone who fashions themselves a writer)...but i do...the rythms, the word choice, the soft and tearing nature just gets me to the point where a thorough examination of it would probably just diminish it...chord structures, melody construction, 4/4 time, do not make a song...so to avoid losing the forest, i'm gonna keep my eyes off of the trees for awhile...thank you...
I have yet to find out how you guys make such God-like reivews, I mean their huge, insightful, and informative! Unless you guys all have jobs as critics here, I'm at lost. well on to my lousy skills at giving feedback.
I really like this one, I've been reading some of your other ones, and they're all very beautiful This one was almost too perfect, the way you started out made me think for a bit, then wince. But I love love, the third stanza, it was whimsical!
I reall have no critique, I'm not good at theat kind of stuff, ecspecially with people better than me, Extraordinary work!