The Last Friday

The Last Friday is a poetry editing group. Once a month, we post a poem and then offer feedback to the other poems on the Forum. We're a friendly but honest group. We value each other deeply and desire for every poet to be published or become famous.


    The Ways We Die

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    Pat

    Posts : 630
    Join date : 2011-09-12

    The Ways We Die

    Post  Pat on Fri Jun 26, 2015 6:42 pm

    A fairly short poem for me. . . but I think I need to cut a line . . . .or two.  Just not doing it until you see it like this.  Appreciate your help. 

    The Ways We Die

    This morning,
    I listen to the learned doctors
    in clean, white coats
    go on and on
    in a public seminar
    about symptoms of
    heart attack, cancer, stroke.
    I think about my sister.
    Never once does anyone
    mention heartache,
    bone loneliness,
    or that pinched darkness
    that increases with every breath,
    slowly squeezing
    the life out of you.
    What about all that?

    Later, I drive over mountains
    toward Sylamore Forest,
    looking forward to
    a dog on the porch
    that cannot resist
    snapping her teeth
    at flying wasps.
    avatar
    tsukany

    Posts : 592
    Join date : 2011-05-21

    Nice offering

    Post  tsukany on Sat Jun 27, 2015 5:48 am

    Pat.

    I like it.  I think the adjectives around "doctors" needs tightening.  I would like to see the poem end with "darkness."  

    Though I do like the last image of death, it is not as emotional as the first two.

    Todd

    dennis20
    Guest

    A good wasp is a dead wasp

    Post  dennis20 on Sat Jun 27, 2015 9:19 am

    Pat,  I like the last picture of the "calm" of back home and the dog snapping at wasp.  It is the snap of the fingers that brings the reader back to reality.  Taking one to the edge of dispair, looking over into the abyss, and then being able to come back to the here and now is a talent. I think you have done that here.  In spite of what life may bring out in the world, we need a sanctuary to come back to at the end of the day.

    Pat

    Posts : 630
    Join date : 2011-09-12

    Pasting a new version

    Post  Pat on Sat Jun 27, 2015 12:51 pm

    I knew it needed some help.  Glad two of you like it.  Thanks.  


    The Ways We Die

    This morning,
    I listen to
    learned doctors
    talk on and on
    at a public seminar
    about symptoms of
    heart attack, stroke, cancer.
    I think of my sister. 
    Never once dies anyone
    mention heartache,
    bone loneliness,
    or pinched darkness.

    Later, I drive
    toward home,
    looking forward to
    a dog on the porch,
    snapping her teeth
    at flying wasps.
    avatar
    Karen

    Posts : 287
    Join date : 2014-10-25
    Age : 64
    Location : North Little Rock

    Re: The Ways We Die

    Post  Karen on Sat Jun 27, 2015 8:26 pm

    I like the tightened version.  I want to suggest one more cut: "I think of my sister." 

    I know that's the crux, the heart, the very meat of the poem.  It will always be there in the subtext for you.  If you leave it only in your personal, unshared version, it opens the poem to everyone's sister, brother, parent, friend, or to the reader's very self.

    Strong stuff.

    Dewell H. Byrd

    Posts : 356
    Join date : 2012-01-05
    Age : 87
    Location : Central Point, OR

    The Ways We Die

    Post  Dewell H. Byrd on Sun Jun 28, 2015 1:24 pm

    I like the poem all except the title.  Was that really what the seminar was about? Remorseful?
    It took me to a darker place than the poem did.  Last stanza is a fine reality check and left me sitting on the porch with the dog licking my hand.
    In line 9 ... is dies the wrong word.
    Great contrast between the two stanzas.
    (Elsa likes this poem, too.)
    Dewell

    Pat

    Posts : 630
    Join date : 2011-09-12

    That's what I thought......

    Post  Pat on Sun Jun 28, 2015 1:28 pm

    What I thought someone would say, but I left it. . . .so you'd see where I was coming from. 

    Thank you.  Appreciate your telling me.

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