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This Poem was Submitted By: Erin E Roland On Date: 2004-02-20 00:36:12 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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east ore

moonrise over the ridge first night alone under her light we will both be gone tomorrow I´ll be in John Day county full of dust and old rocks off the roadside summer peaches Kimberly nature´s gold snatched with only a ladder oasis in a scrubland of juniper and sage sunbeaten and white land of ministers, marshals, and old men.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Elaine Marie Phalen On Date: 2004-03-07 21:51:43
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Erin, I've been enjoying your work and meant to post some critiques but then the site crashed! You have a decided gift for immediately-accessible imagery; we read and can instantly visualize what you're describing. The comparison of the peach harvest [or maybe theft?] to the process of gold mining is apt and fresh. "Oasis in a scrubland" offers a quick take on the irony of orchards amid such dryness. I don't know where John Day County is located (I'm Atlantic Canadian and, for me, the whole concept of dusty sage is quite novel). But I don't need to know because your poem is rooted in a strong sense of place, even if the name means little. The terse, brief lines enhance this piece, I think, because they suggest the patterned quality of day-to-day migrant farm work, shifting like footsteps and ladders from tree to tree. Or, again, one can interpret the poem in the light of two runaways, or lovers, hiding out in the open air and stealing from orchards for survival. "Snatched" culd be used to support this perspective. There would still be the quick, furtive movement. The metonymies at the close are also effective, as well as being pleasantly alliterative. This is a staid, law-abiding landscape. If indeed the spaker is going to swipe some fruit, s/he'd best be on the lookout for both temporal and spiritual law-enforcement, as s/he's breaking one of the Commandments as well as committing a minor theft. But I doubt there will be any chance of reprisal because old men don't run fast. Heh. I think I'll go with the idea of the migrant harvesters ... and will be interested in seeing your own identification of these two. Nicely done. Brenda

This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2004-03-07 11:11:22
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.69565
east ore Er1n, i already critique dhtis lovely poem once an dlost it so i will try to do it again before my computer crashes so please excuse my typos./ moonrise over the ridge first night alone under her light [real neat orphan rhyme] we will both be gone tomorrow [mysterious and telling at the same time] I´ll be in John Day county [is there really a John day "county?" Should it perhaps be country?]o full of dust and old rocks off the roadside summer peaches Kimberly [love the way you personify these peachs by naming them on a separate line! nature´s gold [a little ordinary for this extrordinary piece] snatched with only a ladder [great hard"a" assonance] oasis in a scrubland of juniper and sage [lovely] sunbeaten and white land of ministers, marshals, [-and] old men. You capture both the desolation and the wonder of the land with these last imags. Wonderful evocative writing.------------------------------------------------------------------------

This Poem was Critiqued By: Regis L Chapman On Date: 2004-03-02 11:03:01
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.17857
This reminds me of the place where my dad lives. Your poem's title clearly states that it's maybe relating to a mining town, but my dad's county is a orange and sugar cane town, but it sounds very much the same. It also reminds me on many towns I rode through in 1989 when I rode my bike across the U.S. I went through many industrial and farming towns. It's amazing what these towns are proud of. Coming into town, you will often see a huge billboard proclaiming that townvilleburg to be the capitol of something you ave never even heard of. I learned that people are proud of their stump fences, 5th largest basal smelt factory in the U.S., World's Largest (Insert your wooden creature/person here), etc. It's rather amazing. It seems these towns are filled with people from another time- like the 1940's. Lots of Rotary/Elks type clubs around too. All of this says nothing about the construction of your work, but it does ina way since it was evocative enough to bring out these memories to me. Thanks for that. Thanks, REEG!

This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2004-02-24 11:57:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.62791
Hi Poet: Nice structure with good word flow bringing forth images as one travels on.....Kimberly peaches......can you smell the aroma as they fill the air? Sure can......it seems to me that someone within the lines is trying to survive, make some extra money perhaps and thus they are picking peaches....not being from where peaches are grown nor know much about how its all done it does seem to me that you are allowing me a glimpse of what life is like there.......you do paint a rather bleak image of the County which seems to be "full of dust and old rocks" which are super descriptors giving me just enough of a peak at the scene. "snatched with only a ladder" seems to me makes work not very pleasant and perhaps more then what they offer in pay......thanks for posting and sharing with us, be safe, looking forward to more of your work and God Bless, Claire

This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-02-23 14:18:07
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.70000
Hi Erin, After several readings of this piece I believe you are speaking of Kimberly peaches. Also I think this is a young person just trying to survive and perhaps earn extra money picking peaches. There seems to be some saddness about the words or maybe just disdain for..."ministers, marshalls, and old men"..which are not too attractive to a young person. However, that is her plight for now. I am not familure with John Day county but from your wonderful words it paints rather a bleak picture..."full of dust and old rocks" great descriptors and just enough to give us a peak at the scene. Also I like "snatched with only a ladder"..what back-breaking work that is...."Oasis in a scrubland of juniper and sage, sunbeaten and white"...I have seen much of this where I live...have never heard it described as a scrubland before but that is exactly what it is..only a poet would think of it as such! Good job on this one...hope you like TPL enough to stay with us! Blessings..Marilyn

This Poem was Critiqued By: Wayne R. Leach On Date: 2004-02-22 11:38:28
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
In this piece, I'd suggest altering the line lengths just a bit to create a better flowing rhythm. It just appears to have too much of a staccato effect with the single word lines. This can be very effective and give strong emphasis when not overdone. Only one other little question. "Kimberly" seems vague out there all alone, undefined to the reader. Otherwise, I like this piece of art very much. Best wishes. Keep writing.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2004-02-20 13:05:43
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.20833
I assumed after several readings that Kimberly was a type of peach and not a peach of a girl. I did a search: it's a peach named after the area around Kimberly, Oregon http://thomasorchards.com/about.shtml and through it runs the North Fork of the John Day river. I don't know if you intentionally spelled "county" c-o-u-n-t-y or if you meant to say "John Day/ countRy, because the county's name (in which this Kimberly, OR is planted is in Grant County (I think). WHo was John Day? Some guy who was stripped of all possessions and clothing by the natives near this river in Oregon. He was on an outing to establish a trading post or something like that in the area of the Columbia River. So you're saying that you're mining the eastern "ore" a gold that hangs in trees, is eaten and can be reached with a ladder, and that this ore is like any ore, gotten of hard work, and from a land you'd probably not visit if it weren't for the ore...ministers, marshalls and old men. So you must be young and full of piss and vinegar, working at menial jobs, like picking peaches in the summer, waiting for your next chance to be with your Mate under the light of the mooon - and perhaps the love that you seem to emit here, like the moonbeams as she rises in the East, another ore, can be mined at a later date. Best wishes and welcome to TPL. tom

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