homeless veteran-*revision #12 (4-21-08)

[Marion Poirier]

*Revision 11 - Chgs in Verses 3, 4, 8, and 9
Revision 12 Chg. in V2, L1. V3 added (his) to L1.
Thanks for all your help. Comments/questions
always welcomed.
Note: Please go to Page 2
for more responses when you get to bottom
of this page. Thank you. M

homeless veteran - modern free-verse senryu series


morning rain
on scarlet and yellow tulips
scent of wet grass

white threads scroll
across steel-blue
birdsong in the cypress

his scratchy voice
mars my reverie -
change to spare?

the beggar squats
sipping mcdonalds coffee -
mud-splattered jeans

flag emblem
stitched on khaki sleeve -
nicotine breath

dark glasses
hide his identity
whose son is this?

rusty can
a plea for help -
the stench of poverty

pocket money
buys a cheap lunch
he blesses me

walking ahead -
a gold-domed building
overlooks the gardens

high-flying flags
cast a long shadow
on city streets

M. A. Poirier

4-16-08

--------------------------------------------------------


Man Without a Face - Original


Morning rain left a scent
of wet grass in the public park.
Fresh scarlet and yellow tulips
lined flower beds, grown
in Boston's greenhouses.

A shaft of sun poked
through the lavender sky.
Birdsong induced a light
aura for reborn spring -

until a hoarse voice rippled
the tranquil atmosphere.

Ma'am, can you spare some change?

A man slumped on a bench
sipping Starbuck's coffee,
mud-splattered jeans
and a jacket too large for
his sparse frame.

Dark glasses partially covered
hollow cheeks in muted light.
A heavy stubble of beard
and stringy, unwashed hair
ensured anonymity.

A swarm of civil servants
from the park's subway station
scurried at the crosswalk
to a gold-domed building.

I fumbled through pockets
for loose change -
placed a contribution in a rusty can
on the bench - oddly embarrassed
by the stench of poverty.

God bless you.
Bless you, he mumbled

as I hastened toward
the work place,
its high-flying flags
in clear view

and wondered at it all -
the inexplicable irony.


M. A. Poirier

[mfwilkie]

Marion,

On a first read through, I like your revision.

Back later.

Maggie

[alfredo]

A few ideas (took me 15 minutes to work out the meaning and relevance of “map” old chap)

Faceless in the park


morning rain
leaves its scent
wet grass
and freshness about
the scarlet and yellow

shafts of sun
through lavender skies
aura
for spring reborn

and then
hoarse across
the tranquil

from a jacket
too large
a voice
“change to spare?”

dark discs over
hollowed cheeks
above the stubble
anonymity
stench of poverty

I cascade coins
and glance away

at civil servants
scurrying to a gold-
domed place

“God bless you"

the work place,
its high-flying flags
across the clear view

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you, Alfredo, for your suggestions and version
of the work. It certainly sounds more poetic and less
of a commentary. That is what I was striving at - not
to sound like a newspaper article. I actually like your
version better. I like your title also.
There is just one little glitch in that parts sound
disconnected - it needs a better transition
between some of the lines; however, I'm sure I will
use some of your ideas.
I like the change to the present tense and tightening
in places.
Thanks so much, Alfredo for your time.
Another step forward for this one.
Marion

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you, Maggie for taking a look at this.
I'll be anticipating your comments
and feedback. I appreciate your time.

Regards,
Marion

[alfredo]

sorry some stanzas unintentionally cut in half ..should look like this



and then
hoarse across
the tranquil
from a jacket
too large
a voice
“change to spare?”

dark discs over
hollowed cheeks
above the stubble
anonymity
stench of poverty

I cascade coins
and glance away
at civil servants
scurrying to a gold-
domed place

etc

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you Alfredo for taking so much time
and thought with this. I am thinking now
of writing it in haibun style - so it will be
part prose and part poetry - haiku/senryu style
as many of your ideas seem to fit the pattern
that can be molded easily into Japanese verse.
Although you do have to be sure that the lines
are connected at least two out of three, else
it will read like a list. I'll have to rewrite this
and see how it works- different strokes for
different folks - God bless our differences!
I like a lot of your ideas. Thanks again, Alfredo,
for the inspiration. I'm always ready to listen
and accept suggestions.

Best regards,
Marion

[mfwilkie]

Marion,

I prefer the series you just posted.
It has the intent of your original with tighter language and stronger images.

Maggie

[MichaelFirewalker]

I agree with Mags, and ejoyed this very much----the images in the series at the top are both sharp and tight, which gives the whole thing a clarity that relaxes the reader's awareness-----my only stumble was here:

fumbling through pockets
for loose change -
he blesses me

it is unclear to me, because of how this is written, who it is that is fumbling through pockets, you or the beggar?

love,
michael

[pelos]

Marion
I do indeed see the irony - well done my friend - love it. Can't offer any critique
it seems with all you've had you have turned this into a real piece of work.
Great work I must add. pelos

[Nan]

Marion,

Perhaps you didn’t want to send this one to the top again, but I felt compelled to comment. The time and work you've put into this piece truly shows. This poem is incredible. I love the haiku/senryu format. Each haiku/senryru may stand alone, yet collectively they tell a profound story and bring awareness to the homeless dilemma. Bravo, Marion!

Nan

[ramadevi]

I'm glad Nan sent this forward because i enjoyed the read very much. It is unusual to tell a story in this style. You've don it well.

I especially loved the line "Whose son is this?"
(BRILLIANT)
and the closing line as well.

WARM REGARDS,

rama devi

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you, Michael, Mags, Pelos, Nan, Rama and
of course, Alfredo for the idea to change the format.


By all means, comments are welcome; I'll wait until
I receive final comments to thank you all again.

Poetically yours,
Marion

[Marion Poirier]

revision 3- changed the order of last 4 stanza's etc.
Comments always welcomed.

Thanks,
Marion

[Jonathan Morey Weiss-Namaste47]

I like what you've done with this edit, Marion. The haiku/senryu format lets the reader embrace each triplet individually, allowing the scene to slowly expand, keeping the reader focused on the content within each.

I'm glad to see you posting again, after what seems like quite a long absence. Welcome back.

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you for your comments, Jon.
Always good to hear from you.
Thank you again, to all who offered suggestions
and comments, improving the quality of this poem.
I appreciate it and enjoyed my visit.

Good Luck!
Marion

[mfwilkie]

Marion,

does this work for you?

wispy clouds scroll
across steel-blue—
birdsong stirs the cypress



wispy clouds scroll
across the steel-blue sky
birdsong stirs the cypress

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you, Mags. I like the way you are thinking.
That line in S2 - too heavy as it was. I'm getting
drunk on these word changes. LOL!

I changed the last 2 senryus also.
There should be one fragment among the three lines;
however, sometimes they all fit together-not the
best way IMO but acceptable.

I appreciate the help.
Warm regards,
Marion

[mfwilkie]

I was paying attention in class, Marion.
Quiet, but paying attention.

In your last line, what about saying:

irony walks with concern

or

irony and concern walk with me

Something like that anyway.

Maggie

I walk toward
high-flying stars and stripes -
what irony

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you, Maggie for your input.
I was kinda plagiarizing Issa in my last take
on the ending senryu; however decided to go
with strictly show; though you can tell
in a senryu when making a statement; but
this poem is irony at its extreme. An email
I received this morning complaining about all
the benefits able-bodied people receive
who *have no intention of working, led to
my revision - well - the poem tells it all.

Yt,
Marion

*I decided not to mention a specific group or groups
as it may be considered inflamatory - nor any
country or city; this problem is everywhere in
the world and well-publicized.

[LynnDoiron]

Interesting poem, Marion. I especially like where it leads, how it ends. Nice work. My only quibble is one you probably should ignore because it has to do with Starbucks and the cost of a cup of coffee, regular, with no fru-fru latte or mocha-chocolateh or frappe nonsense. Putting a homeless person, vet or otherwise, sipping starbucks coffee makes me think the person has money to throw away rather than being hard up. [My adult children get so tired of hearing me complain about Starbucks -- it's sad, really, the way I go on about it!]

Anyway -- thanks for the poem; enjoyed.

lynn

[mfwilkie]

A thought, Marion.

(a) scratchiness ripples
through my distance—
change to spare?

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you Lynn. Your point is well taken.
I've never had a cup of Starbuck's coffee. Mcdonalds
is more my price range. Thanks for pointing that
out. I didn't know it was so expensive - now I am
forewarned-except if somebody else is paying. lol!
I will certainly change the brand. Another thing is
that he has nicotine fingers-but no matter how poor
some people are they still smoke-mostly other
people's cigarettes-especially those suffering from
nervous conditions.
Thank you for the heads up on the coffee.

Warm regards,
Marion

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you, Maggie,

There is validity in your suggestion.
I like ripples through my distance-
better than reverie.
I was thinking of my mind being in a
state of daydreaming-like it often was
on my way to work before my third cup
of Mc'Donald's coffee. lol!
Reverie does not seem to fit here with
the tone and mood of the poem.
I'm not that fond of scratchiness - it sounds
kind of awkward to my ear - maybe I'll use
it another way. I was thinking of scratchy
partly because of his nicotine fingers, previously
had hoarse voice in one of my revisions.
I'll give it more thought. Thanks a bunch!
Thanks for coming back to this one.

Warm regards,
Marion

[purplejacket]

I like the ending very much, and the more I read it, the more I like the rest of it too.

At first, the opening images didn't seem to belong in this poem, but now I see they're there for contrast.

[mfwilkie]

I like that a lot, Marion.

the beggar scratches
through my distance
change to spare?

Maggie

[mfwilkie]

Just thinking about this after readiing it again:


I fumble in pockets
for a donation -
he blesses me

What about:

an exploration
of pockets
returns a blessing

Maggie

[pelos]

Marion, what atransformation this has taken - me thinks the - after steel blue- is needed as
it seems you want the reader to think the bird song is part of the sky - I like the way you
ended this with the irony in tact with out spelling it out - me only pic is leave homeless out
of the title - Maybe use A Vet sits (somewhere)- homeless is so obvious that
to give it away in the title is a let down. Just me thoughts friend, just me thoughts. pelos

[Nan]

Marion, wow, this one has gone through some transformation since my last visit! I like the changes.

My only nit, and not that it matters much are stanzas 4 & 8.

a beggar squats
sipping mcdonalds coffee
in mud-splattered jeans

I share pocket money
for today's caffeine
he blesses me

Apparently, he was drinking caffeine in stanza 4. Well, who says he only entitled to one cup a day .

Perhaps you can use "future", "tomorrow" or completely ignore my statements, for the poem is solid and well-written as is.

Nan

[LynnDoiron]

he scratches
through my reverie
change to spare?

Marion, I wondered about replacing "through" with "scars" ?

he scratches
scars my reverie
change to spare?

One reason I offer that suggestion is that, as a reader, I feel the impression left by this homeless vet is not one that goes away, that, yes, he scratches through a reverie, but that scratch remains in the mind of the poet/voice -- like a scar, in a way. Just a thought I had when reading your revisions. And scars carries a sort of double-duty as a word, because of the scars vets carry, both visible and unseen . . .