In the Green Waters of Death

[LynnDoiron]

I don't know what to write here. Powerful poem. Incredible write. And I am so sorry for your loss.

[Tina (Firefly)]

Thanks so much, Lynnie. Indeed, Mel was a good friend, a former Navy pilot and officer, and an optimist to the last breath. Tina

[Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47]

The repetition of the rhyming verbs at the beginning of each line, and the rhymes in the reprise of the final lines caught me.
The flow was unimpeded as the reader caught a glimpse of Mel coming and going.
This is fine work and I don't think I'd add or take away a word.
Now, the question is--when are you going to publish. i set a date for myself....sometime this year......

Your writing continues to evolve....as you do. Love, Jon

[MichaelFirewalker]

I love this love that is you, this roundhouse punch of a love that is you----and I love all the things that let me see your heart, like this poem does----there is a starkness to this piece, a complete absence of romance, and of any mushy view through a rose-colored lens---- that naked truth of life as it spits in the face of death is what makes this poem so damned alive for me...good job, my friend...

michael

[mfwilkie]

Tina,

Some suggestions to tighten flow and imagery, and heighten the character of the friend you introduced to us so clearly in the first stanza.


Mel said he wouldn't die—adamantly told us all
his illness was temporary, then ordered an 2008
teal-blue Jag coupe with tan leather heated seats.
Mel lied.

Thursday morning I sat next to his friends while
Rev. Horne preached about eternity. During the
twenty-third psalm, I thought about green
pastures and the shadow of death.

Mel cried that day I visited him at the hospital.*

*I think this line steps out of the poem, T.


Pictured in his navy whites, I saluted the officer
inside the man who lay before me; my friend
who tried to hold back the waves at high tide.

His ship was headed across the bar.

I sighed.

Mel sounds like just the kind of guy to take on a road trip.

Sorry for your loss, T.

Maggie

[LynnDoiron]

I dunno. I think those clipped opening phrases with lied, died, cried [coupled with what follows each] handles grief by way of voice style. There's almost like a punchy denial going on. I get this voice; says as much about Mel as it does about T, for me anyway. Just had to butt back in . . . lynn

[mfwilkie]

I dunno, c.b.b. I think the 'Mel lied.' belongs at the end of the first stanza, even if T doesn't revise the rest of it. It puts wonderful emphasis on the character of the person, and what he did with just two words.

To me, its impact gets lost after the line break.

I understand what you're saying about the rhymes at the beginning, using them to allay grief with v-style, but I think T does a marvelous job with her use of humor in the first stanza in describing who Mel was to his friends.

Coming back to it a few more times tonight, I like the sound of the rhymes internally, they're less obvious.

Mel cried the day I visited with him at the hospital—
his ship was headed across the bar and all I could
do was sigh.

Pictured in his navy whites, I saluted the officer
inside the man who lay before me; my friend
who tried to hold back the waves at high tide.

Mugs








Mel cried that day I visited him at the hospital.
I looked at the picture of him in his Navy whites
and saluted the officer inside the man who lay there.
His ship was headed across the bar.

Mel tried to hold back the waves at high tide.

I sighed.

[Tina (Firefly)]

Mel died. He said he wouldn't--
told us all his illness was temporary,
then ordered a teal-blue Jag coupe
with tan leather heated seats.

Thursday morning I sat next to his friends
while Rev. Horne preached about eternity.
I said the twenty-third psalm and thought
about green pastures and the shadow of death
Mel lied.

Mel cried the day I visited him at the hospital.
I looked at the picture of him in his Navy whites
and saluted the officer inside the man who lay there.
His ship was headed across the bar. Mel tried

to hold back the waves at high tide.
I sighed.