hand of experience

[motherhubbard]

this is just the start of a thought, but one that has been on my mind.

Perched on the edge of her bed
she tucks her robe in between her boney knees.
Weary and tired she looks down
Seeing, as if for the first time her bent finger
and is swept back in time
to the pail smooth skin of her youth.
These hands were once agile, nimble.
They knew the pleasure of touching a man,
or a babies soft skin, or herself.
They were graceful and brightly adorned.
These hands learned to work,
were pinked in hot soapy water, and
calloused by a garden’s hoe.
Now they lie bent and misshapen,
Her thin aging skin showing spots from the sun
holding nothing,
but full of memories.

[Sweets America]

I enjoyed this poem, Tonya, the way you make the reader experience the life of a woman through the description of her hands. And the sadness that goes with the fact that those are only memories now. Though I sense something positive in the ending of the poem, and I love those last two lines, they are beautiful.

[TheFifthElement]

This is an interesting poem, the theme is quietly powerful, but I feel it would benefit from some pruning/tidying up to make it pack more of a punch. I hope you don't mind me nitpicking a little - I got the impression from your opening comment that this is just a first draft. I wouldn't propose editing the whole poem, but some suggestions which perhaps might serve as an illustration:


Perched on the edge of her bed
she tucks her robe in between her boney knees.

could be:

"On the edge of her bed,
robe tucked between bony knees"

Which conveys the same image but with less narrative.


Weary and tired she looks down

Weary and tired? I don't think both are needed here, as they effectively mean the same thing. Same comment applies for this line:


These hands were once agile, nimble.

and this line :


Now they lie bent and misshapen,

with the repetition of 'bent' from earlier on. It may be that this was your intention, in which case ignore this comment.

Line 6 - do you mean 'pail' or 'pale'? I wasn't sure, but actually I like the concept of 'pail smooth'.

I loved these final lines


holding nothing,
but full of memories.

Which say alot, with so little.

I hope that wasn't too brutal, and that it helps a little in refining the poem the way you want to. I definitely think that this could be a powerful poem, but it would benefit from a little work to get it there.

[Sweets America]

This is an interesting poem, the theme is quietly powerful, but I feel it would benefit from some pruning/tidying up to make it pack more of a punch. I hope you don't mind me nitpicking a little - I got the impression from your opening comment that this is just a first draft. I wouldn't propose editing the whole poem, but some suggestions which perhaps might serve as an illustration:



could be:

"On the edge of her bed,
robe tucked between bony knees"

Which conveys the same image but with less narrative.



Weary and tired? I don't think both are needed here, as they effectively mean the same thing. Same comment applies for this line:



and this line :



with the repetition of 'bent' from earlier on. It may be that this was your intention, in which case ignore this comment.

Line 6 - do you mean 'pail' or 'pale'? I wasn't sure, but actually I like the concept of 'pail smooth'.

I loved these final lines



Which say alot, with so little.

I hope that wasn't too brutal, and that it helps a little in refining the poem the way you want to. I definitely think that this could be a powerful poem, but it would benefit from a little work to get it there.

I see what you mean with that

"On the edge of her bed,
robe tucked between bony knees"

but I personally prefer the first version because the 'she' disappears in your version, and I thought it was important to put that in an active form, to underline the woman's point of view in this poem. I'm not sure that what I say here makes sense, but it is how I feel.

[TheFifthElement]

I see what you mean with that

"On the edge of her bed,
robe tucked between bony knees"

but I personally prefer the first version because the 'she' disappears in your version, and I thought it was important to put that in an active form, to underline the woman's point of view in this poem. I'm not sure that what I say here makes sense, but it is how I feel.

I understand your point Sweets America. Ultimately neither your preference nor mine are particularly relevant, but rather that of the poets. No doubt motherhubbard will decide how she wants to shape the poem, once she's digested the feedback given. What I proposed was a suggestion, which merely serves as an illustration of how the poem could be trimmed, without losing value or meaning, if that's what motherhubbard wishes to do.

[Sweets America]

I understand your point Sweets America. Ultimately neither your preference nor mine are particularly relevant, but rather that of the poets. No doubt motherhubbard will decide how she wants to shape the poem, once she's digested the feedback given. What I proposed was a suggestion, which merely serves as an illustration of how the poem could be trimmed, without losing value or meaning, if that's what motherhubbard wishes to do.

Yes I agree with you. I think it is fine that everyone can propose suggestions, that is always interesting and that can help the author to grasp other views on the feelings conveyed by the poem.

[motherhubbard]

What good advice and the first time I've heard from you Element, thank you. And thank you Sweets for your comments and encouragement and thought. I’ve been stuck lately. It seems I’ve been thinking more in pictures than in words.

How is this?

Perched on the edge of her bed
robe tucked between boney knees.
She looks down wearily
seeing, as if for the first time her own hands
and is swept back in time
to the pale smooth skin of her youth.
These hands were once agile, nimble.
They knew the pleasure of touching a man,
or a babies soft skin, or herself.
They were graceful and brightly adorned.
These hands learned to work,
were pinked in hot soapy water, and
calloused by a garden’s hoe.
Now they lie in her lap misshapen by years and illness,
her thin aging skin showing spots from the sun.
They hold nothing,
but are full of memories

[ampoule]

I love your poem no matter which one you choose. I look at my hands so often and though I don't particularly like the looks of them, I certainly like what they can do and have done but realize they are just as delicate as they are strong. My friend, who plays beautifully, can no longer play her guitar. Thank God for those memories.

[Pendragon]

One suggestion Mother H. Go with the second version. It's the better one. I would make one minor change.

Now they lie in her lap misshapen by years and illness,
her thin aging skin showing spots from the sun.
They seem to hold nothing,
but are full of memories...

You make take it as usual with a grain of salt or if you chose, use it freely. A most lovely poem. Granny must be a wonderful woman...

Pen

http://i94.photobucket.com/albums/l108/AbsalomKane/CallMe.gif

[motherhubbard]

Thank you Amp and Pen. Pen I do like the seem in there. I was thinking about a friend of mine in high school saying that I would be a good mother because I had strong hands and then I was thinking about a sculpture I think by Georgia O'keeffe of her own hands. they were so strong and feminine. Then I was thinking of the work women do with their hands and how we come to know so much through the things we have touched or worked. My mom's hands are still very young and strong, tan with straight fingers and long painted nails -so not about her yet.

[motherhubbard]

Perched on the edge of her bed
robe tucked between boney knees.
She looks down wearily
seeing, as if for the first time, her own hands
and is swept back in time
to the pale smooth skin of her youth.
These hands were once agile, nimble.
They knew the pleasure of touching a man,
or a babies soft skin, or herself.
They were graceful and brightly adorned.
These hands learned to work,
were pinked in hot soapy water, and
calloused by a garden’s hoe.
Now they lie in her lap misshapen by years and illness,
her thin aging skin showing spots from the sun.
They seem to hold nothing,
but are full of memories

[Granny5]

Thank you Amp and Pen. Pen I do like the seem in there. I was thinking about a friend of mine in high school saying that I would be a good mother because I had strong hands and then I was thinking about a sculpture I think by Georgia O'keeffe of her own hands. they were so strong and feminine. Then I was thinking of the work women do with their hands and how we come to know so much through the things we have touched or worked. My mom's hands are still very young and strong, tan with straight fingers and long painted nails -so not about her yet.

Thank you for making that clear.:lol:
It reminds me of my Granny and Aunt Cordie.
Now that I think about it, Auntie too.