After Dinner- now titled- Cast Iron
After Dinner- now titled- Cast Iron
2nd Revision-
Cast Iron
My orange goose down coat
and loose fitting ball cap
hang on a hook, obscuring
a somber grey scarf
worn by my father.
Black beans and onions
simmer in a pot,
corn bread is covered
with a red gingham towel.
Steam fogs the stove clock.
Time is an uncertain song,
a monotone a grief
consuming my patience.
I turn off the news,
discard a long held belief
that most men are good.
Dishes stacked in the sink
are a memorial of stones
in a flood of warm suds.
The kitchen door closes
behind me, a new fallen snow
is a delicate sheet for my eyes,
father’s itchy wool scarf
is turned around my neck.
Revision-
dale patterson
Posts 2,276
Member
06 Aug 2018 13:16 #1
My orange goose down coat
and loose fitting ball cap
hang on a caste iron hook
obscuring a somber grey scarf.
My wife stirs a pot
of black beans and onions,
covers hot corn bread
with a red gingham towel.
Grief is a monotone song
consuming my patience.
I’ve discarded a long held belief
that most men are good.
Dishes are stacked in the sink,
a memorial of stones
in a flood of warm suds.
The new fallen snow
is a delicate sheet for my eyes.
An itchy wool scarf
is turned around my neck.
Original-
Death’s itchy wool scarf
hangs on a cast iron hook.
My orange goose down coat
and loose fitting ball cap
cover it up.
My wife stirs a pot
of red beans and onions,
a square pan corn bread
cools beneath
a white cotton towel.
I have lost all my patience
for watching the news
and discarded a long held belief
that most men are good.
Grease is a film
on the kitchen wall clock.
Time is uncertain.
Our dishes are piled in the sink.
My wife is asleep in a chair
as I go for a walk.
This time of year
the weather is cold.
My scarf is wrapped around my neck,
a thin sheet of snow obscures the ground.
Cast Iron
My orange goose down coat
and loose fitting ball cap
hang on a hook, obscuring
a somber grey scarf
worn by my father.
Black beans and onions
simmer in a pot,
corn bread is covered
with a red gingham towel.
Steam fogs the stove clock.
Time is an uncertain song,
a monotone a grief
consuming my patience.
I turn off the news,
discard a long held belief
that most men are good.
Dishes stacked in the sink
are a memorial of stones
in a flood of warm suds.
The kitchen door closes
behind me, a new fallen snow
is a delicate sheet for my eyes,
father’s itchy wool scarf
is turned around my neck.
Revision-
dale patterson
Posts 2,276
Member
06 Aug 2018 13:16 #1
My orange goose down coat
and loose fitting ball cap
hang on a caste iron hook
obscuring a somber grey scarf.
My wife stirs a pot
of black beans and onions,
covers hot corn bread
with a red gingham towel.
Grief is a monotone song
consuming my patience.
I’ve discarded a long held belief
that most men are good.
Dishes are stacked in the sink,
a memorial of stones
in a flood of warm suds.
The new fallen snow
is a delicate sheet for my eyes.
An itchy wool scarf
is turned around my neck.
Original-
Death’s itchy wool scarf
hangs on a cast iron hook.
My orange goose down coat
and loose fitting ball cap
cover it up.
My wife stirs a pot
of red beans and onions,
a square pan corn bread
cools beneath
a white cotton towel.
I have lost all my patience
for watching the news
and discarded a long held belief
that most men are good.
Grease is a film
on the kitchen wall clock.
Time is uncertain.
Our dishes are piled in the sink.
My wife is asleep in a chair
as I go for a walk.
This time of year
the weather is cold.
My scarf is wrapped around my neck,
a thin sheet of snow obscures the ground.
-
- Posts: 1168
- Joined: 14 May 2011, 20:30
Re: After Dinner
IndiananaDP
I like the way you begin.Pat Death
Death’s itchy wool scarf
hangs on a cast iron hook.
and the way you end
My scarf is wrapped around my neck,
a thin sheet of snow obscures the ground.
I like the way you begin.Pat Death
Death’s itchy wool scarf
hangs on a cast iron hook.
and the way you end
My scarf is wrapped around my neck,
a thin sheet of snow obscures the ground.
-
- Posts: 2688
- Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Re: After Dinner
Good poem... remove these 2 lines since the closing 2 lines tell us it’s cold...
This time of year
the weather is cold.
This time of year
the weather is cold.
-
- Posts: 1619
- Joined: 01 Jun 2008, 09:17
Re: After Dinner
Dale. In my opinion, the heart of the poem is S3. The naivetee and optimism of youth yields to the bitter pragmatism of a life long lived.
I like the simple language, the domesticity of the poem.
But as much as the first and last stanza "tie it all together", I object to use of "Death" as overused in the realm of poetry.
I like the simple language, the domesticity of the poem.
But as much as the first and last stanza "tie it all together", I object to use of "Death" as overused in the realm of poetry.
Re: After Dinner
Thanks Siva- I am indeed looking to reintroduce the beginning into the end.
Re: After Dinner
Good call Bob, I am working on revisions and hope to post them in a few days.
Re: After Dinner
Yes indeed Ken, I agree, I’m trying to show how aging people grow tired of fighting the battle, how optimism turns to pessimism, yet they are at peace with it.
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- Posts: 2154
- Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57
Re: After Dinner
Hi Dale,
in the subtext of your title, my inner ear hears last supper - enriching to my read
"Death's" is too heavy
The itchy wool scarf
hangs on a cast iron hook
^^ Understated & sufficient
I like/admire the way the middle 2 stanzas shirts the editorial
I'm in accord w/ Bob re those 2 lines in the last stanza.
However, the 1st line of that closing couplet - "My scarf is wrapped around my neck," - as is, could read malevolent/suicidal.
my workshop-share
My scarf warms my neck,
a thin sheet of snow obscures the ground.
or
my scarf gives my neck a warm hug
my scarf lends my neck a warm hug
^^ a little more Christopher Robinson
who, too, grew old
but not weary
Jane Kenyon's poems "Otherwise" & "Let evening come" surface with reading your poem.
There comes a time - a right time - when earth no longer does it for us - we no longer belong here - we out-evolve this world, which is not the Lord's
kingdom, which is where we go.
Not DOA; instead forever AoA - Alive on Arrival
dying is not death - dying is an unburial - into Your hands, I commend my Spirit
not a tragedy - the ultimate exodus - liberation
we don't take a last breath - the Vision of Heaven so Wonderful, the Lord takes our breath away
and There
never a winter
always a Wonder
Michael (MV)
Re: After Dinner
Thanks Michael, I am posting a revision above that may address some of the issues.
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- Posts: 1987
- Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
- Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Re: After Dinner
Interesting work Dale, I've seen it elsewhere, but decided
to comment in detail here.
I liked elements of the first version
but also recognise improvement in some strophes.
The poem is about death of course and grief.
Michael may be right that 'death' in the first line
of the original is too much, for some readers
it may be needed.
L1-Do people in North America actually wear
goose feathered coats, and colour yellow?
Some might say too many modiiers in s1, but I like
descriptive passages and you enter them for a reason.
You spell cast as caste, you mean cast iron of course.
Modified S1 is preferable to the original s1.
prefer my somber grey . . .
2nd strophe leads us innocently into the details
of domesticity, we are happy up to now.
And then the heart of the poem shows, I think two brilliant lines
as they go together in my op.
I liked the next quote, but agree it doesn't fit the poem
not in a meaningful way, but brilliant lines.
it is running out for us all.
The next quote speaks about dishes
and then refers to memorial stones
which I think is very clever.
Maybe change to:
Dishes stacked in the sink,
memorial stones (of a meal enjoyed)
soak in a flood of warm suds.
A covering of newly fallen snow,
shrouds my eyes,
the itch of my wool scarf
reminds me I'm alive.
Very good poem, understated but effective
mataphors leads us inescapably to think
about death and grief.
The details of kitchen, warmth, wife,
home in conrast to the finality of death.
Best wishes
definitely an IBPC contender
to comment in detail here.
I liked elements of the first version
but also recognise improvement in some strophes.
The poem is about death of course and grief.
Michael may be right that 'death' in the first line
of the original is too much, for some readers
it may be needed.
L1-Do people in North America actually wear
goose feathered coats, and colour yellow?
Some might say too many modiiers in s1, but I like
descriptive passages and you enter them for a reason.
You spell cast as caste, you mean cast iron of course.
Modified S1 is preferable to the original s1.
prefer my somber grey . . .
2nd strophe leads us innocently into the details
of domesticity, we are happy up to now.
And then the heart of the poem shows, I think two brilliant lines
Prefer you blend the two lines after thisGrief is a monotone song
consuming my patience.
as they go together in my op.
I liked the next quote, but agree it doesn't fit the poem
not in a meaningful way, but brilliant lines.
And time used with clock leads us to thinkGrease is a film
on the kitchen wall clock.
Time is uncertain.
it is running out for us all.
The next quote speaks about dishes
and then refers to memorial stones
which I think is very clever.
Maybe change to:
Dishes stacked in the sink,
memorial stones (of a meal enjoyed)
soak in a flood of warm suds.
Maybe for the next strophe:Dishes are stacked in the sink,
a memorial of stones
in a flood of warm suds.
A covering of newly fallen snow,
shrouds my eyes,
the itch of my wool scarf
reminds me I'm alive.
I don't feel the scarf is in danger of suggesting suicide.The new fallen snow
is a delicate sheet for my eyes.
An itchy wool scarf
is turned around my neck.
Very good poem, understated but effective
mataphors leads us inescapably to think
about death and grief.
The details of kitchen, warmth, wife,
home in conrast to the finality of death.
Best wishes
definitely an IBPC contender
Re: After Dinner
Hi Frank, thanks for your crit.
I did battle with the word death, opting at first to go against my gut and for the sake of the reader include it, but after Michaels push deciding to cut it.
The goose down coat for me is a symbol of time passed. In the 1980’s I owned such a coat, so having still hanging around seemed important to the story, it hides the scarf a symbol for death.
You may be correct about the. Clock, I’ll consider bringing it. Back.
The dishes as a memorial of stones for me refers to when the Israelites crossed the Jordan river and Joshua then built an alter of stones. Of course crossing the Jordan often used as a description of passage.
I did battle with the word death, opting at first to go against my gut and for the sake of the reader include it, but after Michaels push deciding to cut it.
The goose down coat for me is a symbol of time passed. In the 1980’s I owned such a coat, so having still hanging around seemed important to the story, it hides the scarf a symbol for death.
You may be correct about the. Clock, I’ll consider bringing it. Back.
The dishes as a memorial of stones for me refers to when the Israelites crossed the Jordan river and Joshua then built an alter of stones. Of course crossing the Jordan often used as a description of passage.
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Re: After Dinner
Dale, bring back death by making the associations more personal... tie the clothing to a dead father or uncle, perhaps.
Re: After Dinner
Thanks Bob, that may be a good solution.
Re: After Dinner- now Cast Iron
New revision, hopefully getting closer.
-
- Posts: 2154
- Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57
Re: After Dinner- now titled- Cast Iron
Hi Dale,
workshop-sharing re-aligning (and punctuation) in these 3 passages:
My orange goose down coat
and loose fitting ball cap
hang on a hook, obscuring
a somber grey scarf
worn by my father.
^^ and eliminating "once"
I turn off the news,
discard a long held belief
that most men are good.
The kitchen door closes
behind me. A new fallen snow
is a delicate sheet for my eyes.
The itchy wool scarf
is now around my neck.
^^ and an workshop alternative for the last 2 lines
workshop share for this stanza 3:
Steam cataracts the stove clock.
Time is an uncertain monotone,
a grief that consumes
all my patience.
Michael (MV)
IndianaDP wrote:2nd Revision-
Cast Iron
My orange goose down coat
and loose fitting ball cap
hang on a hook
obscuring
a somber grey scarf
once worn by my father.
Black beans and onions
simmer in a pot,
corn bread is covered
with a red gingham towel.
Steam fogs the stove clock.
Time is uncertain,
a monotone song,
a grief that consumes
all my patience.
I turn off the news,
discard
a long held belief
that most men are good.
Dishes are stacked in the sink,
a memorial of stones
in a flood of warm suds.
The kitchen door closes
behind me,
a new fallen snow
is a delicate sheet for my eyes,
my itchy wool scarf
is turned around my neck.
Revision-
dale patterson
Posts 2,276
Member
06 Aug 2018 13:16 #1
My orange goose down coat
and loose fitting ball cap
hang on a caste iron hook
obscuring a somber grey scarf.
My wife stirs a pot
of black beans and onions,
covers hot corn bread
with a red gingham towel.
Grief is a monotone song
consuming my patience.
I’ve discarded a long held belief
that most men are good.
Dishes are stacked in the sink,
a memorial of stones
in a flood of warm suds.
The new fallen snow
is a delicate sheet for my eyes.
An itchy wool scarf
is turned around my neck.
Original-
Death’s itchy wool scarf
hangs on a cast iron hook.
My orange goose down coat
and loose fitting ball cap
cover it up.
My wife stirs a pot
of red beans and onions,
a square pan corn bread
cools beneath
a white cotton towel.
I have lost all my patience
for watching the news
and discarded a long held belief
that most men are good.
Grease is a film
on the kitchen wall clock.
Time is uncertain.
Our dishes are piled in the sink.
My wife is asleep in a chair
as I go for a walk.
This time of year
the weather is cold.
My scarf is wrapped around my neck,
a thin sheet of snow obscures the ground.
Re: After Dinner- now titled- Cast Iron
Thanks Michael, I’ve incorporated some of your suggestions.