My Laughing Mom

[Bar22do]

No matter what she’d say,
even when, helpless, she whispered,
during her last chemos, Mom
spoke only in rhythms and rhymes.
A puppeteer in tangle with her brain chemistry
directed her tongue and mouth.
She'd attempt, almost heroic,
"See? on a drip,
one's in their… grip"
and drop, blushing up to where once was her hair;
then, again, softer:
"It’s late, go home,
Dad’s left all... alone."
Beaten, with a shrug of submission she'd giggle,
we'd both burst into laughter and laugh
laugh to tears on a tide of meter and rhyme.
That was my practice for later,
for when to sob, prosaic.

(echoing Dafydd's poem on laughter, with thanks)

[Hawkman]

Sweet Bar,

Your poem revives memories of my mother's final days. She wasn't a rhymer though, she was a great film fan in her day and quoted her favourite lines...

I felt she was using these as communication just for me, a sort of code. The other members of the family just looked blank, after all, what would you think if someone said , "No more goat soup." to you? But I knew she loved that line from the 1999 film, "The Mummy".

So thanks for stirring the embers of a life for me.

Ever yours, Hawk.

[dafydd manton]

Bar, I am deeply, deeply flattered by that. It is a gorgeous poem, of somebody who maintained their dignity and humour even under the worst of circumstances. It's a lovely piece of work, which I shall treasure. Thank you.

[blank|verse]

What a painful, heart-rending poem, Bar.

The incongruity of the rhymes, the ellipses before the inevitable second rhymed word is spoken, the collapse into laughter, the image of the pupeteer (sadly), and the literary reference in the ending all make for a beautifully poignant poem. It sounds autobiographical, so you have our sympathies if that is the case.

In terms of the poetry, this longer line stuck out a bit:

and drop, blushing up to where once was her hair;
and could possibly be tightened to:

and drop, blushing to where her hair was;
I'm not sure about 'after' in the penultimate line, because of the internal rhyme with 'laughter'; I think you should keep rhyme just to those lines spoken by the mother.

But it is quietly beautiful.

[lacadalet_]

tears hidden in the smile
even the title
is
amazing
Thank you

[hillwalker]

A marvellous memory, I'm sure, Bar.

This line

A puppeteer in tangle with her brain chemistry

I felt was particularly powerful as it describes so poignantly the gradual loss of physical co-ordination coupled with the clarity of mind (and persistence of personality) that are often the last to let go.

H

[Haunted]

Reminds me of my mother's last days in this world, except that she couldn't articulate at all and I could only cry. There's a lot of pain in this piece even with intervals of giggles. Nothing prosaic about it.

[Delta40]

oh Bar, this is a most gentle piece of poetry - your love woven through every line.

[dafydd manton]

What a beautiful analogy! Delta, you've done it again! That's a lovely thought!

[angliholic]

Thanks, Bar, for sharing this great piece with us!
It's a beautifully poignant poem as Blank Verse said!

[hack]

Bar,
This is heart wrenching. I am so sorry dear.
It is a fine poetic moment, this memory of
a most difficult time. You have my deepest
sympathy...peace...

[Song of Mercy]

So good

[lallison]

I just loved this the first time I read it. Can't thank you enough for posting it. It's a very, very thought-provoking work.

[PrinceMyshkin]

How strong and at the same time vulnerable! And with what humble, self-depreciation it ends:



That was my practice for after,
for when to sob, prosaic.

[Bar22do]

I feel spoiled by so many reactions to this poem rather difficult to take... therefore naturally, I'm immensely grateful to you all, Hawk, Dafydd, B/V, laca, hill, Haunted, Delta, angli, hack, S.of Mercy, lall and PMyshkin. It means a lot to me.

B/V, you're right, this is autobiographical, though occurred many years ago, alas. My Mom's last months were awful and speaking in rhymes a hell.
You're absolutely right re the changes. It escaped my attention that "after" echoed "laughter". My intention was just as you said, rhyme only the lines spoken by Mom.
I also think the whole poem can benefit from some shortening (perhaps the last two lines aren't needed), what do you think? (pls see below).

Hawk, your story is poignant, "no more goat soup", how sad... thanks for sharing!

Dafydd, in a way your poem on laughter brought this memory to the surface... Thank you.

hill, clarity of mind to the last minute... both tragic and beautiful. Thanks for your kind words.

laca, the title was the hardest piece and yet the only option. Thanks for noticing.

Delta, love's what remains, eternally.

Thanks all so very much and here is the revision, if you care to re-read and give opinion:

My Laughing Mom

Helpless, during her last chemos,
Mom spoke only in rhymes.
A puppeteer in tangle with her brain chemistry
directed her tongue and mouth.
She'd attempt, almost heroic,
"See? on a drip,
one's in their… grip"
and drop, blushing to where her hair was;
then, again, softer:
"It’s late, go home,
Dad’s left all... alone."
Beaten, with a shrug of submission she'd giggle,
we'd both laugh
laugh to tears on a tide of rhyme.


Thanks all again, Bar

[dafydd manton]

Dearest Bar, this will go down as one of Litnet's Greats, a poem so charged with emotion and memory, that all of us have been touched by it. Your dear Mum would be so proud to know that she had inspired so much love. Thanks again.

Dave

[blank|verse]

Hi Bar - to be honest, there are bits of each poem I prefer! I think I liked the original, slightly longer opening more; but I did wonder about the ending. I liked the mention of 'prosaic' but perhaps the original last lines just needed a bit of work. It's hard to read this version without them now; something seems missing and the end is a bit too neat.

I'd be tempted to make the first four lines of the new version one sentence, and change 'directed' to 'directing'; and I think 'heroic' should be the adverb 'heroically'. (I also wondered about the original typo of 'chemios', but kept quiet as I don't have a good track record as far as medically-related words are concerned! :blush5: )

I also think the syntax isn't quite right with this line:

A puppeteer in tangle with her brain chemistry
I'm not sure about 'in tangle' - you can say 'in a tangle' or 'entangled'.

But of course, all these are minor touches to the larger masterstrokes of the poem.

[Bar22do]

Dearest Bar, this will go down as one of Litnet's Greats, a poem so charged with emotion and memory, that all of us have been touched by it. Your dear Mum would be so proud to know that she had inspired so much love. Thanks again.

Dave

Thanks Daf, though you overestimate my meager possibilities.


B/V thanks a million again, I'll think of what you've pointed out and how to revise better. You're irreplaceable.

I'm so relieved you all liked this little poem. Bar

[Bar22do]

... if you could kindly go over it and share your thought (with thanks in advance)

My Laughing Mom

No matter what she’d say,
even in a whisper,
on her last chemos Mom
spoke only in rhyme –
a puppeteer twisting in her brain
handled her lips and tongue.

She would attempt, boldly,
set to manage,

See? on a drip,
one's in their… grip

and drop, blushing
to where her hair was;
then, again, softer:

It’s so late, go home,
Dad’s left all... alone.

Next, with a shrug of submission
she'd giggle, we'd both burst
into laughter and laugh,
laugh to tears
on a tide of meter and rhyme -

this was practice
for later, for when
to cry, prosaic.

[hack]

Bar,
This edit is so good
and so painful. Thank
you for the tenacity
to make this what it
has become...peace...

[dafydd manton]

Bar, the original was painfully good, the revision even more so. I was very effusive about the first one, and if it wasn't going to cause embarrassment I would do so even more. For the sake of good taste, I won't. The silence will say more.

[Delta40]

beautiful. I especially love

A puppeteer in tangle with her brain chemistry
directed her tongue and mouth.

[Bar22do]

this poem's latest revision, if you could kindly go over it and share your thought (with thanks in advance)

My Laughing Mom

No matter what she’d say,
even in a whisper,
on her last chemos Mom
spoke only in rhyme –
a puppeteer twisting in her brain
handled her lips and tongue.

She would attempt, boldly,
set to manage,

"See? on a drip,
one's in their… grip"

and drop, blushing
to where her hair was;
then, again, softer:

"It’s so late, go home,
Dad’s left all... alone."

Next, with a shrug of submission
she'd giggle, we'd both burst
into laughter and laugh,
laugh to tears
on a tide of meter and rhyme -

this was practice
for later, for when
to cry, prosaic.



Thanks a lot for your feedback hack, Daf and Delta (Delta, I actually chose an alternative to the two lines you loved -
"a puppeteer lurking in her brain
handled her lips and tongue." - how do the new ones read?)

Cheers to you all.

[Delta40]

I think you must use the word tangle, entangle somewhere as it strongly suggests string pulling chaos

[Hawkman]

Sweet Bar,

There are a couple of things here that grate slightly. I feel that the line breaks and stanza division are detracting from the fluidity of the piece which niggle when reading.

Firstly I'd change "on her last chemos, back to During her last chemos, which is more grammatically correct. I would also insert a comma before Mom. I would prefer tangled, to handled too. I would excise set to manage as it is unnecessary. I would combine from "She would attempt boldly to the line about her hair but I would change that to, "To her hairline." and "drop," which doesn't quite make sense (drop what?) to stop. this is much clearer in indicating her frustration in linguistic expression. I would then combine the next three lines as one stanza.

I would excise the needless repetition of "...and laugh, laugh" which weakens the impact of the thought and I would tidy the line breaks of the final stanza to:

"this was practice,
for when to cry, prosaic."

Although I don't like prosaic used like this, as gramatically it should be prosaically, but this does not fit the metre. Is there another word one might use here? Anyway, what you'd end up with is set out below for your consideration :D I still love this poem, Bar.

"No matter what she’d say,
even in a whisper,
During her last chemos, Mom
spoke only in rhyme –
a puppeteer lurking in her brain
tangled her lips and tongue.

She would attempt, boldly:
See? on a drip,
one's in their… grip,
and stop, blushing
to her hairline.

then, again, softer:
It’s so late, go home,
Dad’s left all... alone.

Next, with a shrug of submission
she'd giggle, we'd both burst
into laughter, to tears
on a tide of meter and rhyme -

this was practice,
for when to cry, prosaic."

Live and be well, your Hawk.

PS After a couple of hour's sleep it occurs to me that you might replace prosaic with, in ernest and then lose the comma after cry. Just a thought, H

[blank|verse]

My Laughing Mom

No matter what she’d say,
even in a whisper,
on her last chemos Mom
spoke only in rhyme –
a puppeteer twisting in her brain
handled her lips and tongue. - I think 'handling' is worth considering.

She would attempt, boldly,
set to manage, - I'd think about removing these two lines and going straight into the quote.

"See? on a drip,
one's in their… grip" - with this and the other quote, maybe drop the last word onto a new line (something I don't often recommend, but I think appropriate here).

and drop, blushing - 'drop[s]' her head, I read this. Seems obvious enough and I don't think needs changing.
to where her hair was; - this reads much better!
then, again, softer:

"It’s so late, go home,
Dad’s left all... alone."

Next, with a shrug of submission
she'd giggle, we'd both burst
into laughter and laugh,
laugh to tears - maybe one too many 'laughs' here.
on a tide of meter and rhyme -

this was practice - I'm not sure I like 'practice'.
for later, for when
to cry, prosaic. - I do like the mention of the word 'prosaic' but I think it has to be handled with care. I'm not sure this quite works. It's difficult not to fall into cliche here though. My thoughts eg. 'Later, without her, | my tears fall | prosaically.' perhaps fall into that trap!

Overall, I liked the introduction of the stanza breaks, which give the poem a more hesitant, disjointed feel, which suits the subject and the narrator who one imagines would not find this easy to articulate.

A great poem though, Bar; well done for perservering with it. And only you know when it's complete. b|v

[Bar22do]

B/V, Hawk, Delta, as I returned to revise this poem, I noticed I never thanked you for your thoughts and solid comments. Which I do now, belatedly and - so repentant. Am truly sorry for this offensive omission.

I kept the two "laugh", needed to feel a time stress. I left "handled" not to repeat the verbal action..

Here is the best I could do with it, hopefully it works:

My Laughing Mom

No matter what she’d say,
even in a whisper,
during her last chemos mom
spoke only in rhyme –
a puppeteer twisting in her brain
handled her lips and tongue.

She’d attempt,

See? on a drip,
one's in their…
grip

and stop, blushing
to where her hair was;
then, again, softer:

It’s so late, go home,
Dad’s left all...
alone.

Next, with a shrug of submission
she'd giggle, we'd both burst
into laughter and laugh,
laugh to tears
on a tide of meter and rhyme -

this was practice for later,
for a prosaic cry.



Be well, All!

[Delta40]

I think all versions relay the same message here Bar. great work

[Bar22do]

Thanks so much, Delta for you feedback. Be well.