Ode for Midwest Winters (revision)

[determinedtofail]

Ode for Midwest Winters (revised Version)

Perhaps I am
squeezing into the back seat laughing
like a bowling pin
toppling over the shoulders of the night.

Moving to-wards some foreign party,
while these unbound windows
hunger insensately for our breath.

Exiting the car
with music, snow,
and an unnamed pressure
that leaves me wondering
if that's how her kisses would feel.

This house has a familiar smile,
held up by the guts of old walls,
painted over too many times.

A plastic nozzle hits the metal drum
as I offer a cup.

Quarters bounce off these dirty tables
and we all make wishes
lasting longer than crowded hallways,
where the conversations brush against you,
leaving you searching for the restroom.

The bathroom greets me
with expressions in the mirror
feminine laughter, scissors
and the sound of wet hair on the floor.

Before I flush,
a bathroom monologue says,
Just like that
It feels much lighter now.

The toilet roars
the sink hisses
mirrors move,
and I have to go outside
with a pocket full of lighters
to see if the moon still exists.

----Austin 9/20/09

Ode for Midwest Winters (origional Version)

Perhaps I am
squeezing into the back seat laughing
like a bowling pin
toppling over the shoulders of the night
moving to-wards some foreign party.

We blow smoke
out intermittent windows;
and as I slide out of the car
with the sound of
music and snow under me feet,
I feel the same pressure
leaving me wonder
if that's how her kisses would feel.

The house has a familiar smile,
propped up on the guts of old walls
painted over too many times.

A plastic nozzle hits the metal drum
as I hold
what I hope is my cup.

Quarters bounce off these dirty tables
and we all make wishes;
lasting longer than crowded hallways
where the conversations brush against you
and leave you searching for the restroom.

The bathroom greets me
with expressions in the mirror
feminine laughter, scissors
and the sound of wet hair on the floor.

Before I flush,
a bathroom monologue says,
Just like that
It feels much lighter now.

The toilet roars
the sink hisses
mirrors move,
and I have to go outside
with a pocket full of lighters
to see if the moon still exists.

----Austin 9/20/09

[Jarlsbane - Michael Ray Cotner]

This is good. I like the familiarity of it. I've been at this party and you slice it up nicely. I have a few nits as I think this could be tightened with a few better word choices...


We blow smoke
out intermittent windows;

I really paused at the use of intermittent... I got your meaning but this seems to awkward a use to describe the windows- I paused to long so it lost poetic effect.

and as I slide out of the car
with the sound of
music and snow under me feet, (me feet = my feet)

Quarters bounce off these dirty tables
and we all make wishes;
lasting longer than crowded hallways
where the conversations brush against you = great line!
and leave you searching for (more than just) the restroom.


The toilet roars
the sink hisses
mirrors move,
and I have to go outside

= this line could be more descriptive, -- I weave my way outside something like that which uses better adjectives

with a pocket full of lighters
to see if the moon still exists. Good ending lines!!

Been there- done that! Nice job on this piece. -Jarls

[Marion Poirier]

Hi Austin -
some suggestions to trim, etc. Also,
I'd cut down on the first person pronouns
particularly I and my.
Good poem. Marion



Perhaps I am
squeezing into the back seat laughing
like a bowling pin
toppling over the shoulders of the night
moving towards some foreign party.

We blow smoke
out intermittent windows; (intermittent means occasional)
and as I slide out of from the car
with the sound of
music and snow under (me) feet, don't think
you need any pronoun here.
I feel the same pressure
leaving me and wonder
if that's how her kisses would feel.

The house has a familiar smile,
propped up on the guts of old walls
painted over too many times.

A plastic nozzle hits the metal drum
as I holding
what I hope is my cup.

Quarters bounce off these dirty tables
and we all make wishes( no punctuation here
lasting longer than crowded hallways, comma
where the conversations brush against you, comma
and leaving you to searchsearching for the restroom.

The bathroom greets me
with expressions in the mirror, comma
feminine laughter, scissors
and the sound of wet hair on the floor.

Before I flush,
a bathroom monologue says,
Just like that
It feels much lighter now. Italics

The toilet roars
the sink hisses
mirrors move,
and I have to go outside
with a pocket full of lighters
to see if the moon still exists.

----Austin 9/20/09

[mfwilkie]

I like the V in this poem, and your use of intermittent windows.

I cold see Michael's point, but I think its awkwardness was more line construction than image and message.

The transition from being in the car and then getting out isn't as smooth as it could be.

i cut out the excess and went right to the meat of your draft
which has some great imagery.

What a lines holds is important. Don't make them to short because you think it's stylish.

You're telling a story here.

Nice stuff.

Maggie

PS

I'm going to ask Ron to come take a look at this.

[Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47]

I like Marion's edits to this fine piece of artistry. Good flow with powerful figures of speech.

[mfwilkie]

I don't know what happened to these suggestions in my original post.

So here they are again.

Maggie



Perhaps I am squeezing into the back seat,
toppling over the shoulders of night
like a bowling pin. I am laughing

We blow smoke out intermittent windows;
our best intentions moving towards some foreign party.

And I wonder if her kisses come from the pressure
of music, or are they a cold compliment to the snow
as I slide from the car.

In a house propped up on the guts
of old walls painted over too many times
a plastic nozzle hits the metal drum as I hold
what I hope is my cup.

Quarters bounce off dirty tables
and we all make wishes lasting longer
than crowded conversations that brush
against me searching for the restroom.

The toilet roars
the sink hisses
mirrors move,
and I move, outside,
with a pocket full of lighters
to see if the moon still exists.

[determinedtofail]

Jarls, thanks for pointing out (me) bad spelling.

Also intermittent was not working and a changed it up with some new words and stanza breaks as some suggested. Also trimmed a few prep phrases down. May trim some more to get, "At the meat of it."

Let me know how this sits with your eyes. Was glad that some of my words connected with some others' experiences. Thanks again you guys. Very helpful comments all around.

Cheers,

Austin