For My Grandmother

[J.D. Sparks]

For Dorothy E. Babin (1938-2008)

When I was four, or slightly more,
my grandmother bought me a quilt.
I was convinced it was soft as minx,
rose-patterned, and gold thread gilt.

I would lie, all sleepy-eyed,
while she smiled at me from the door.
I watched cartoons, while the drowsy moon,
played shadow puppets on the floor.

..............

When I was ten, or so,
my grandmother said that the blanket must go,
and, for the first time, I told her staunchly,
NO.

She pointed to the corners fraying,
but I insisted on its staying.

I smiled when she relented,
while she heaved a sigh
that circumvented anger.

I gathered the cotton in my arms,
marvelled again at its bauble-pattern charms:

swarming pinks and spattered gold,
so ugly they could even repel
the ghostly cold
of northern nights.

.............

When I was eighteen,
I took my TV to the pound.
I asked the pawnbroker
to help it find a good home.

I needed space for
all my academic texts,
newly acquired;
and a blanket,
recently immigrated.

............

I am twenty, now.
It’s been almost two years
since my grandmother died.
Some days go by,
and I don’t think of her at all.
Other days, I rise,
brushing a cotton tuft off my cheek.
If she could only see the blanket now,
oh how she’d roll her eyes.

[Hawkman]

I really like this poem. It has a touching innocence in its reflective tone. However,

"I was convinced it was soft as minx," did you mean mink? A minx is a cheeky girl or disreputable woman! Or am I missing some dark subtext here? ;)

Seriously though, good poem.

H

[Delta40]

I love the simplicity of this. you poetically underline the love of a grandmother without referring to it.

[J.D. Sparks]

Thank you, Delta.

Hawkman, I did have similar concerns when I wrote it, and I checked the plural of minx and found that it could be spelled either minks or minx. Now, I don't know what sketchy dictionary I was using before, because when I re-checked, Oxford is informing me otherwise. Although, I have now learned that minx can also refer to small pet dogs (albeit the usage is antiquated), so I guess that would work..... But perhaps I should change it nonetheless! Hmmmm.

[MorpheusSandman]

I love the concept and I think you have a lot of great content here that's actually quite moving without being sentimental. But this is also a piece that could be improved with a bit more thought. One interesting thing you could've done, which you kinda evoke in the first section, is to mimic the age with the form and language. The first, which begins when your four, has a sing-song quality to it like a children's rhyme. But I think after that the pattern breaks a bit, like how "circumvent" wouldn't be in the lexicon of most 10-year olds. I also think it would've been interesting to move from sing-song rhyme to a more reflective sobriety later on. I do like the dryness of the "eighteen" section, though.

[lallison]

This is a wonderful tribute to your grandmother. I love the rhyme and rhythm you have going at the first part. The second part of your poem I felt was inferior to the first four stanzas. And, I don't think they really contribute anything new. I would cut off the end completely and leave it like this:


For Dorothy E. Babin (1938-2008)

When I was four, or slightly more,
my grandmother bought me a quilt.
I was convinced it was soft as minx,
rose-patterned, and gold thread gilt.

I would lie, all sleepy-eyed,
while she smiled at me from the door.
I watched cartoons, while the drowsy moon,
played shadow puppets on the floor.

When I was ten, or so,
my grandmother said that the blanket must go,
and, for the first time, I told her staunchly,
NO.

She pointed to the corners fraying,
but I insisted on its staying.

I think this is truly all that needs to be said. The rest just waters down the great language you use with this. You could also go on and create another verse in this same style referring to the tattered condition of the blanket today, or even, for metaphorical purposes, imagine that you lost the blanket anyways. Either way, it's Nice poem. I enjoyed it!

[J.D. Sparks]

Morpheus Sandman: Well, interestingly, that was actually my intent. Hence why the sing-song rhyme scheme become staggered rhyme, becomes no rhyme. What you might be recognizing as out of sync with this pattern is the fact that the final stanza has some kind of rhyming in it, but I wanted this there because it seemed to me to be tying up loose threads, as it were, so I wanted it to have a bit of imperfect rhyme to kind of reconcile the different forms that had come before. Which is also why the tone seems to have changed, as I try to find a medium between that child-like dreamyness of the first part, and the utter dryness of the eighten-year-old part. (As for circumvent not being in the lexicon of ten-year-olds...well, you never heard the lexicon of my ten-year-old self.)

Iallison: Hmm, that's an interesting suggestion, but I really wanted this poem to encompass the span of my relationship with my late grandmother. I just don't think that a tableau of my four-year-old self, juxtaposed with a snapshot of my current self will quite cut it, since what was important to me was the progression of attitudes and feelings throughout the relationship. Whether my adolescent self was duller and imaginatively inferior to my child self is entirely debatable (and I might argue as you do), but it still seems important to the poem, since my goal was not just to represent one cute little memory. I can see how you might, for instance, think that the fifth and six stanzas could simply be cut out, but then you would miss the fact that the speaker's consciousness has changed (i.e. I realize that the blanket is in fact ugly, there is a kind of breakdown of the idealizing that happens in the first stanza, and the momentum of that continues, and tries to resolve in the last stanza, to what effectiveness I am not sure).

Thanks everyone for the comments and suggestions, they have really forced me to reconsider this piece.

[MorpheusSandman]

Probably what (ironically) happened was that I recognized that element/intent in the poem unconsciously and then thought that it would be interesting if you included that in the piece when you already did! The human mind is truly a wonder.

[RaoulDuke]

I'd like to echo the comments that the rhyme and rhythm of the first stanzas of the poem make it so easy to read, over and again. I understand why you changed the rhythm, but I almost think it was a shame to drop it. I do however love the way this line cheekily trips the reader up:



I smiled when she relented,
while she heaved a sigh
that circumvented anger.

[PrinceMyshkin]

I don't want to weigh in on the various debates that have been aired here, but I loved the innocence of this, the spontaneity of it and sharing in the experience of someone giving voice to her unadulterated love.

What a gift people make us when they present us with the opportunity to love them!

Here's to you, Dorothy E. Babin, and to you Ms Sparks!

[J.D. Sparks]

Morpheus Sandman: If that's the case, then I am impressed by your subconscious mind!

RaoulDuke: Haha, to be honest, I was kind of sad to see it go as well.

Prince Myshkin: Thank you, as always, for the kind comments.