Citrus Winter - a poem
I’ve been peeling a box of satsumas and my skin
smells like mandarins. The sticky oil has
stained my finger tips yellow and seeps
through my pores like garlic does
when you’ve eaten too much Italian.
Unexpected sweetness in December, when the gray sky
drops orange globes of fruit, I’m reminded of childhood
zing and the welcome of sunburst on my tongue.
Author Comments: I've been looking for another word for "welcome". Any thoughts?
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4 comments:
pattern perfect.
Life isn't the cookie cutters we've played with before.
It is the jagged pieces we mend to create our doors.
if a heart only broke one way we'd all be warm.
now dodging bullets like we've sworn.
which way do I lean?
are you gonna fire?
i get its a guessing game, but I don't wanna.
Because I think I could love you.
delivered on a silver platter
baggage and bones are no matter.
like a kite in the wind we should be together.
storybooks have said it forever.
which way do I lean?
are you gonna fire?
i get its a guessing game, but I don't wanna.
Because I think I can love you.
the space between clouds my view
wondering how I could get to you
which way do I lean?
are you gonna fire?
i get its a guessing game, but I don't wanna.
Because I think I can love you.
Wow Jill...I'm just a little bit impressed! Very powerful - I really liked it!!!
Author Comments: I've been looking for another word for "welcome". Any thoughts?
what about omitting the words "the welcome of"? that gets rid of two weak words and one you [possibly] don't even like. makes the ending stronger too, I'd say.
Is the enjambment in the second stanza intentional? I have no idea if it's formatted correctly on my screen. It reads like this:
... the gray / sky / drops orange globes of fruit, I’m reminded of / childhood / zing and ....
I'm only asking to see if that's what you meant.
drops orange globes -- nice. the "o"s really play off the fruit.
and the enjambment of the first line is remarkable. the first line really stands alone and gives a very haunting image of you peeling your skin.
the image of the garlic really took me out of the poem, though. you start with sweet, you end with sweet, but right stuck in the middle is a very "strong" flavor, but it's not sweet. instead of creating a metaphor for other things that seep through pores, have you explored other things that are sweet? or you could roll with the color yellow/pale orange elaborating on that?
that's all, I'm happy to read some more of your work!
-gregory
oh shoot, I should have made the compliment sandwich and put my critique between two good things... oh well, I haven't workshopped in a while.
Greg! Thank you for the critique. It's nice to get some feedback. I agree with everything you wrote. You'll have to post one of your poems on my blog and let other people critique YOU!
Muchos Gracias
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