This Poem was Submitted By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2005-02-16 14:25:07 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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Becoming Spring
This morning, I step into woods, climbing
over rutted mud past the trees’ soft caves.
Untried tracks find mallard duck twosomes
pressed heart-to-heart in dappled sunlight.
Modest hens glance over stippled shoulders,
drakes’ heads glisten bottle green. They chat
in quick quacks, perhaps planning ventures
past the pond or in it. Now I veer off the path
sliding on slippery muck left from morning’s rain.
River stones rise from softened earth’s wet fingers,
as if to see wake-robins turning shades of violet,
their shedding petals fallen from sultry seeds.
Soon, hungry fledgling birds will flutter
and wait-a-while weather once more slip away.
Green sprouts will germinate again this year;
as life renews, I’ll chant my joyful vision of it.
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Copyright © February 2005 Joanne M Uppendahl
Additional Notes:
A revision of "Pondering Spring" with thanks to all who have critiqued. I'd welcome
feedback on which poem readers prefer.
Dedicated to Mell.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rebecca B. Whited On Date: 2005-03-07 17:47:22
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.40000
Hi Joanne!
I am back with this version, the one I like the best! As always, you have filled your work with wonderful poetic devices and taken this reader on your outing with you!
"This morning, I step into woods" [in my opinion, this informs the reader that you are 'as one'with nature], "climbing over rutted mud" [this is very descriptive to me, I like the way it shows the reader that winter has not quite left yet, no frozen ground covered in ice, but no green grass either] "past the trees? soft caves." [now you really have my attention and have elicited such memories for me! When I was a little girl, I loved to search these soft caves and would sit for hours pretending they were my secret hideaway! There were these trees along the sidewalk that borered our playgroung at school, and I would spent my recess time sitting under those trees! Thanks for the memory.] "Untried tracks find mallard duck twosomes pressed heart-to-heart in dappled sunlight." [oh, what a vivid imagery of romance you pain, my dear!] "Modest hens glance over stippled shoulders, drakes? heads glisten bottle green." [Only you can give us a double whammy of imagery like this...glistening bottle 'green' for color AND the use of the work 'bottle' allows me to see the drakes in all their splendor as they crane their necks in their persuit of romance! GREAT!] They chat in quick quacks, perhaps planning ventures past the pond or in it[this doesn't bother me now, as it doesn't seem to be left dangling and is followed up with more, so as to draw the reader into your following steps which offer even more surprises!. Now I veer off the path sliding on slippery muck left from morning?s rain. "River stones rise from softened earth?s wet fingers," [ok, I am completely rapt in your imagery and personification!] as if to see wake-robins turning shades of violet,their shedding petals fallen from sultry seeds. Soon, hungry fledgling birds will flutter and wait-a-while weather once more slip away.['wait a while weather' [winter] giving way to erendepitous spring!] Green sprouts will germinate again this year;
as life renews, "I?ll chant my joyful vision of it." [I can't wait to hear your song!]
I likek this alot, Joanne! Whether you call it "Pondering Spring' or 'Becoming Spring' doesn't really matter, but I think I like 'pondering' better....or you could call it Summoning Spring, or Serenading Spring...call it whatever you like, it is a good write!!
As always, you delight me with your work!
Beck
ps...I got a little distracted in this crit, as my son came in and was telling me about his day! Will share details with you in a private email, if interested. LOL
This Poem was Critiqued By: Sandee L McMullan On Date: 2005-03-06 14:11:04
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.52381
Title: Becoming Spring
I sense from the title a metaphor, but not sure, so I seek the refreshing sense of spring that the title alludes, I read on with anticipation.
The concept here is a good one as the reader can be part of it very easily. However the execution needs a tad of help for clarity in this format. Perhaps it is the format that is giving the struggle here, not sure. If I may suggest pruning some areas; keep the original to refer back to. Hopefully, this will help show the bare bones of theme here and redirect importance of details.
3rd line, awkward, may I suggest a rephrase. “untried tracks” this is onomatopoeia for quack, interesting linguistic here. Um, suggest: mallard pairs, duck pairs (?) mallard is known as duck. “twosomes” the “s” stumbles me -- and it may be just me. I get the image, I like it very much and the representation it gives (mating for life, as they do is what comes to mind for me in their symbolism)
oO “heart-to-heart” mating? good one.
drake’s heads = drake-heads (?) glisten…
in quick quacks planning their ventures…I veer off the path
There are some repetitions in this piece which might be presenting some confusion, again not sure. Examples:
L1 “This morning” & L9 “left from morning’s rain”
> perhaps join these: After the morning rain, I step into the woods
This could set the scene from the outset.
3rd stanza brings the reader back to mud again, this from the first stanza’s opening. The words sliding and slippery are very similar to each other; perhaps the use of one of them:
sliding on muck >> slipped on muck
> my foot slips (might work here ‘?’)
I like what is happening to “River stones and wet fingers” One of the strongest parts of this poem, imo; it is a simile and the image can be used dramatically along the path. The reader takes notice.
“River stones rise from softened earth’s wet fingers,”
i.e. > river stones rise as wet fingers from the softened earth.
i.e. > river stones wear softened earth, fingers rising from… (or something like that).
L14: slip away = slips away
The conclusion is a comfortable, refreshing scene and emotes uplifting. I get a sense of the title here, birth of birds – becoming, and sprouts also from sultry seeds. “I’ll chant my joyful vision [of it].”
This was not an easy one to critique imo. I hope this helps; there is a gem hiding within; some polish will bring a shine.
. . .
regards
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne Duval Morgan On Date: 2005-03-03 16:03:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
I have no choice but to say whatever I read written by you makes my spirits rise. No preference Joanne either or. Actually I'm sitting here trying to comment and my nose is dripping all over my key board. Just my word or two, I ponder Spring also and can't wait for all the glorious feeling cited in this poem.
Everything on TPL stopped for me this month, terrible malaise has settled here, the weather if foul, the sun infrequent. Housebound unable to even jaunt out on the scooter. Winter doldrumsare assailing me badly, so you poem brings a measure of comfort and affirmation thatindeed Spring will be here shortly. Thank Goodness, I've been through a lot of winters but non that has taken it's toll like this one.
Hope you're well, and keep writing, I'm reading just unable to sit and concentrate enough.
God Bless, be well....Love, Jo (no critique really just commenting.)
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2005-03-01 09:13:17
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.71429
Love them both my dear friend.......the structure, word flow, the images, the beauty of the coming season is penned with anticipation within the above..........I am always pleased to find your work and enjoy reading all of it.......God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Troy D Skroch On Date: 2005-02-20 02:02:54
Critiquer Rating During Critique: Unknown
Joanne,
I do not think it's fair to treat your writing or the reader like this. I don't believe we can simply edit a poem after it has been communicated and return anything but a tranquilized facsimile of the original created and shared moment. Poetry is more than the manipulation of words, I trusted that you knew this and almost lost what little mind I have left when I chanced upon your revision. Shame on you Joanne M Uppendahl. HEHE That was a little harsh.
Honestly, it seems to me like you took your original work and flattened it out to be mounted in an old dusty botany book or something. And it tastes like you had to force yourself to do it. It's almost like it's been abused in some way. I'm calling a social worker right now. Are you ok? Why are you falling into the trap of the linear mind here and becoming explanatory in your writing. That's not how we think anyway. That's how people think that are afraid. They build structure into everything until they have nothing but a bunch of upside down images of themselves clapping in mindless applause. And when they finally find their perfect manufactured reality they stand around preening their egos until the stench of their cowardly selfishness makes me feel like I'm ship wrecked in one of those fascinatingly huge liquid manure tanks. Yahoo! Now I'm talking like a Texan!!! I hope you know that I wasn’t directing that comment at you by the way. It’s just that I get a little excited once in awhile.
I actually drove 827 miles yesterday.
LOL I guess I liked the original.
I'm sorry, give me a zero. This is probably going to drive me back into anonymity for awhile anyway.
...now mindless and mildly depressed he slips back into the semi-comatose state of slumber warding off bad dreams by pondering the coming spring as seven more inches of snow fall on the shivering tree frogs huddled beneath his window.
t
This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2005-02-17 16:48:01
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.93333
Joanne–I do believe you’ve started already,‘Becoming Spring.’ This simple
rendering of your walk in the woods has taken on a life of it’s own: Detailed
descriptions as only seen through a very few select eyes have placed this
reader smack dab in the forest;
“...climbing
over rutted mud past the trees’ soft caves.
Untried tracks find mallard duck twosomes
pressed heart-to-heart in dappled sunlight.”
Almost tongue twisting allits delve into intimacy of duck pair;
“They chat in quick quacks, perhaps planning ventures past the pond or in it (U talk nature-smile).”
I then catch myself glancing down at my improper shoes;
“...sliding on slippery muck left from morning’s rain.”
Yes, you’ve got my attention and I’m gonna hold you to your promise;
“...as life renews, I’ll chant my joyful vision of it.”
Thanks for this respite from the serious prose of late. TLW
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2005-02-17 14:38:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Joanne, I am beginning this quest with anticipation. I know, when I am done, I will be exhilarated, and fulfilled.
Becoming Spring - “Becoming Spring” a transitional title that acts both as the purveyor of heritage and the prophet for life.
This morning, I step into woods, climbing
over rutted mud past the trees’ soft caves. – It seems as you open, I am along with you, and the sights you see become a part of me as well. The “rutted mud” and “trees soft caves”, or such distinguishable presence, that to walk it is to have your state of mind altered, transformed, to that of nature.
Untried tracks find mallard duck twosomes
pressed heart-to-heart in dappled sunlight. – What a splendid scene, I guess the “dappled” is what sets the mood and motivation, but the vision of mallards “heart to heart” speaks to a union that only the best of recall may allow. “Twosomes” and “untried” speaks to the innocence of the coming rebirth, no matter the maturity of the moment.
Modest hens glance over stippled shoulders,
drakes’ heads glisten bottle green. They chat
in quick quacks, perhaps planning ventures
past the pond or in it. Now I veer off the path – How alive this stanza is, I am smiling and rereading the “chat in quick quacks”, the alliteration almost plays into the allusion of “ventures past the pond”. Simply a delectable stanza.
sliding on slippery muck left from morning’s rain. – Pictures please, let’s all watch the slipping and sliding!!
River stones rise from softened earth’s wet fingers,
as if to see wake-robins turning shades of violet, - Sweet analogy of river stones watching the awakening of the actual causation of their rise. Almost an anecdotal description that borders on paradoxical complicity!!
their shedding petals fallen from sultry seeds. – Oooh, the sexual/sensual side of nature, the reproduction of inanimate, transmitted as a “sultry”, chosen direction. And how I see this living world in just such a view. Excellent.
Soon, hungry fledgling birds will flutter
and wait-a-while weather once more slip away.
Green sprouts will germinate again this year;
as life renews, I’ll chant my joyful vision of it. – At least while you chant, I’ll be able to chant, by proxy of your verse, to the vision of it all.
Joanne, an alive translation of a living prime. A very enjoyable walk through the woods with you!!
This Poem was Critiqued By: Kelly Denise LaBeff On Date: 2005-02-17 12:22:16
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
"mallard duck twosomes pressed heart-to-heart"..Oh! That is so beautiful, I can see their necks stretched out just so and ever so slightly, but tenderly and lovingly they entwine as their chests beat against the other's! A sight...Real Beauty!
Joanne, you are so magical and thoughtful of creation, creating when you write like here for instance:
"rutted mud past the trees’ soft caves.
Untried tracks"
First off, you're intent on an adventure, seeing the beauty of nature that surrounds us all, but true to fact most of us are too busy for such a walk especially one that will require the scrubbing of mud off shoes that were the perfect footwear accessory to that cute little outfit bought at the mall last week, the one with the buttons around the waist, that one! Anyway, with all that going on, nature becomes obvilious! Then you go and masterfully use the word, "caves"...caves are dark and scary, a place only few dare to explore because they're scary and dark plus it's a place of musk, the unknown may very well dwell within and anyway you have to contend with all those spider webs, right? And so, at a distance caves are looked at or spoken of, but that's about all,,no,,,because then sharper than a knife you say "untried", which goes hand and hand with a cave in a sense,,,unexplored or untried, both the same. See, how genius you are! Let's continue our walk.
Oh, I caught that! How dare a "Modest hen" "plan a venture past the pond or in it"! Shame on those hens! Playful and imaginative, this is great! s glance over stippled shoulders,
I love the idea behind this phrase whereas "heads glisten bottle green",,bottle makes me think about "the neck of a bottle" and then I see one that's green like the antique or collector bottle I have in my window that catches the sun just right when it's shining bright and right through my window {it's so pretty and peaceful}, which is once again another perfect fit with your choice of wording, "a duck's green head" that's chatting in "quick quacks",,,creatively wonderful, bringing out the child in all of us - love it!
Continuing in unison, we are still sliding "on the slippery muck from morning’s rain"
Then you hand over: "earth’s wet fingers"! OMG, I'll never look at the ground the same again, this is brilliant, Joanne. Mother earth, her fingers - the soil that holds all things especially those of beauty like we are beholding within this verse. I now love that you bring to me a flower, a purple one! OH! How did you know? Although daffodils are my all time favorite, I do love florals with violet colors! I'm so glad among the mud and muck, we found flowers! Yes, then here come those hungry birds just like the ones making so much noise right now in the leaves below my window by the computer and its chair. They are noisy you would a huge person were stumbling about right outside the window in the back of the house, where no one should be! It scared me, but then when I saw little sparrows kicking big as them brown leaves up just a bit inasmuch to expose a little earth - that's moist and damply hides the little home of _____ {?}we all know especially the birdies, DINNER...what else, worms! It is so cute, I get lost watching those sparrows rustle leaves in their hungry search of food, little worms nipped into their tiny little beaks...all that for a worm! Sometimes, they fly away and come back, I know that mother bird must have divided with pride that little worm into little pieces for the babies in her nest, waiting in a tree somewhere nearby.
Okay, enough of me, on with you. In unison once again, we slip, but you must tired of slipping because this time you quill, "wait-a-while weather once more slip[s] away"...so now you're making the weather slip! Good for you, and wwwhat wwwonderful alliteration, it's another perfect fit using sound and wwwit to identify with the intention of the word, words, wording used. Great and creative again! Out with the old and in the new, I love your ending. As far as your note, although I've not critiqued it, I have gladly read that poem and so with that I say: In this poem, your revision of "Pondering Spring", the change at the end is what does the trick for me ... "Green sprouts will germinate again this year; as life renews, I’ll chant my joyful vision of it."I liked the other one saying something of a spiritual nature like I know who I will find in it"...remember I'm mental, but anyway I concur! I like, no, I love this ending much much better! Joanne chants and spring is definitely a chanting thing, a thing to chant-over! Brava poet, Let's go mudding, you had so much fun and saw such sights and I do thank you for sharing them with me! Kelly
Oh! I almost forgot, this verse also felt good to my tongue whilst I read it out loud,,,no stumble, no grumble, no fumbling either. Becoming Spring's rhythm/cadence was readably tongulicious! I'll be coming `round the .......... c u thanks again! Kelly
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jennifer j Hill On Date: 2005-02-16 22:06:30
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Joanne,
I love a good challenge and comparing your two poems is just that, with the emphasis on good.
These are both pleasing to the eye. I really like the way “Pondering Spring” is laid out. It has
an alluring look to it and flows nicely. But at the same time, “Becoming Spring” flows well also.
I think the former title is more fitting for the poem, because you are literally pondering spring as you walk.
“Rutted mud” has a kind of guttural sound that fits well here. Is the “trees’ soft caves” a reference to
the waterlogged hollows of the trees, or another reference to the mud? It comes across as the former
to me and gives a rustic image in my head. I like the way you cleanly end the sentence at the end of line two.
The crisp clean line breaks give the reader time to take in the images of the scene.
“Untried tracks” is a unique way to describe off the beaten path. I very much like “unfamiliar footpaths” too
because of the fricatives, but I lean more toward the unique “untried tracks”.
Gosh Joanne, this is almost too hard, because both poems have such euphony and wonderful wording.
You’ve replaced “find twosomes of mallard ducks chatting in spotted sunlight” with “find mallard duck twosomes
pressed heart-to-heart in dappled sunlight” and I have to say here that I adore all the “T”S in your original
line. “Chatting in spotted sunlight” is just over the top for this reader. But then now I see why you changed
it, because “They chat in quick quacks, perhaps” is breathtaking assonance nice alliteration as well. “Perhaps planning
ventures past the pond” leaves me pondering this spectacular scene.
Nice enjambment from S-2 to S-3 and the addition of “Now I veer off the path” lends itself well to the sliding.
“River stones rise from softened earth’s wet fingers, --I like the change to “rise” as if to try and see the flowers
as if to see wake-robins turning shades of violet,---and then you say as if---*smile* love it
their shedding petals fallen from sultry seeds.” -----nice combination of soft “E” assonance, “F” and “S” alliterations.
The wording in those lines is more tailored and I like the crispness here again.
“Soon, hungry fledgling birds will flutter ---addition of soon works to show spring really is comming
and wait-a-while weather once more slip away.—“wait-a-while weather!!!!!! That is awesome!
Green sprouts will germinate again this year;------the addition of these last two lines makes this ending so as life renews, I’ll chant my joyful vision of it.”---much more complete!
This new version is a winner. I love every word of it and feel like I was on that walk with you.
Hope it’s spring soon,
Blessings,
Jennifer
This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2005-02-16 17:54:21
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.85714
Harbingers of Spring all right.What a wonderful picture you have painted here. So far, here,
only the crocuses are showing. Dappled sunlight, bottled green leave an impression on my mind;
I can almost smell the "slippery muck"...hope you had a pair of gum boots on (rubber boots or
waders where you come from?).
and wait-a-while weather once more slip away...."slips"?...birds is plural so shouldn't this
be as well?
The sights, sounds, and smells come forth. My only thought is the title. Couldn't you come up
with something a little more original? Something totally Joanne?
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