The Ways We Die

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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.

Pat

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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
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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.

dennis20
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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.

Pat

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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.

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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

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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.

Pat

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