This Poem was Submitted By: Stormy D Morris On Date: 2004-01-30 18:08:28 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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A Day Awake
Roll out of my ball
Dress
These shoes make me look tall
Run
Into the stall
Bounce
Onto the wall
Ring
I can't take another call
Wink
Let's meet in the hall
Drive
I have to get to the mall
Sigh
Slowly to bed I crawl
Smile
Into your arms I fall
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Copyright © January 2004 Stormy D Morris
Additional Notes:
I wrote this poem in the middle of a really hectic day. I think I wrote it just so I wouldn't go crazy. My husband often says I have a "don't have time to bleed" attitude, I think I just like to be busy. What I'm hoping to gain from posting here is the knowledge of differences between certain kinds of poetry and if they have different names. I took some poetry classes in college but I can't remember much about them. Does this kind of poem belong in certain category? Any feedback would be appreciated!
Enjoy!
Stormy
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2004-02-02 08:05:00
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.54795
like the easinest of this poem, sweet....direct. Your day seems to involve waking, working, errands and home again but the best part is the ending when you fall into his arms again......sweet, lovely making the entire say worthwhile....good form, easy read, nice word flow, images and emotions felt within the lines short as they might be.......
there were times I had to smile for this reminded me of my own hectic day......not of late though since i have not worked in three years but still..........taking care of a 92 year old mother now is quite hectic.....thanks for posting and sharing with us......no suggestions reads and stands well on its own. be safe and God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-02-01 21:10:43
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.55263
Hi Stormy,
I don't usually critique at this time of month...am more apt to wait for new poems
but I have to comment on this one. In reading it I noticed myself begin to smile and
by the end....'slowly to bed I crawl' I was just delighted. I have three children and
when we were raising them I also had a full time job and what you have written here
personifies every one of my days from start to finish. In this terse poem you have
managed to describe a whole day for a busy wife, mother, cook, maid, accountant, nurse,
laundermat, window washer, bill payer, craft maker, and whatever else comes up that
needs tending to or fixing. I don't know that it falls into a paticular poetry category
but you have written about what you know and what you experience...which to me is the
best poetry of all. Some poets infer rather than make their meanings clear to the
reader and that can become work instead of pleasure to read...or maybe that is just me and
I am lazy or unappreciative. I like all kinds of poetry but some that I read on this
site can be compared to the old masters it is that good. Also this is a wonderful place
to learn your craft and TPLers are always happy to teach and help us poor newbies along!
I like this one and so will any busy person as we all labor through each day and jump up in
the morning only to do it all over again!
Blessings...Marilyn....keep writing!
This Poem was Critiqued By: Sherri L Smith On Date: 2004-01-31 12:58:26
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.32000
Dear Stormy,
You sould like a very busy person. I like your one word lead in, then right to the explanation line. It was a very effective way of taking us through one of your busy days. I found as I grew older, that it is much healthier to try to slow down, enjoy eeach day, take time to read, play with your kids, and love your family. This was a good read.
Sherri
This Poem was Critiqued By: Regis L Chapman On Date: 2004-01-31 02:18:41
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.34615
I like the simplicity of this poem, as it comes off as sweet and direct. The development of the day as it goes along seems very mundane in one sense, until the last 2 lines, which makes the poem. I wish that you were in fact able to sleep as well as this poem implies, however. Eeek!
I don't know that you need to feel somehow that there are a group of people out in this forum who are going to be anything but supportive. I find most people here aren't so book learned about poetry, but then again some are!
REEG!
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2004-01-30 21:46:39
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.70588
Stormy-
Nice to see a husband/wife team on the site.
I think I whiffed on your first submission. I will try to attend to each of your submissions as they arise/arrive. I am not a school-trained poet. I may not even be a poet. I just know what sounds good to me. So take what I say with a large grain of something.
This poem is what I'd call a personal expose' (that's an accent, not an apostrophe). This is one type of poetry. We all write personal stories. This is a great place for you to start. Accomplished poets write about things that are seemingly very removed from the self. See Mark Scheffer's work for some examples of this. There are poems about nature. About things. About anything. About nothing. They all work in one way or another. But, common to them all, is a language of thought. That language, typically, is one based on metaphor. The words and phrases bring to mind images and ideas that allow us to paint a mental picture, or create a mood, or intercept you at the pass and redirect your thinking in a new direction. Metaphor is so malleable, so liquid, so vulnerable that the possibilities distilled from a poetic metaphor are nearly unlimited. The goal of the poet is to craft these metaphorical references into a composite that anneals the images into one large image that you interpret as something meaningful.
Unfortunately, many of us fail in this regard. Too often our metaphors are weak or ineffectual or misunderstood. We write about love and it comes out mush. We write about mush and it comes out breakfast. So we lean on reality a bit more, and leave the metaphorical stuff to the real poets. The rest of us craft prose into poetry. Which is a great accomplishment for most of us here. There are very few who crack through the ceiling into the realm of the greats.
I think the hardest thing about writing in any genre is to find your own voice. To do that, you need to have great faith in two things: your story, and your verbal ability. Once you have something to say, experiment with words, phrases, images, thoughts, structure of line and stanza, etc. Play. Experiment some more. don't be afraid to leave a word hanging all by itself. everything is legal in love, war and poetry.
looking forward to reading your mind.
tom
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