mama never smiled,
was a raven statue
tethered to home.
when papa left,
mama’s eyes bloated to fat pearls
in currents of tears, and
the pines lashed each other
with their iron needles.
mama never smiled
when hattie held me at
night, in storms that ravished
our fields; when hattie,
swollen beneath summer aprons,
plucked cherries and returned,
damp with morning.
i remember the freckles on
her washerwoman skin, how
god stuffed her with water
and she birthed life again
from moss that burrowed
in her belly
and mama could
not weep; she had
had too much
of water.
Author notes
rebecca jones is actually a character from my novella, “amelia webb.” rebecca was mentally retarded (only mildly so) and died at the age of 25 in 1863. rebecca’s father disappeared in 1856; no one heard of him afterward, and he was thus presumed dead, although her mother was convinced he’d left. her mother sank into depression, and her younger sister hattie drowned herself in lake champlain in 1858 after an “incident” with thomas webb. there’s more to rebecca’s story, though i haven’t uncovered all of it yet.
i’m not sure if this is done or even decent, so i welcome all comments, preferably constructive ones. and i think "too much of water" is from shakespeare. probably is from hamlet, but i'm too lazy to go check.
A contest entry
- Personification Prompt by Cannonsfire.
650 points, ended May 20, 12 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - prewrites by Melissa Gayle.
500 points, ended July 11, 20 entries
Honorable winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
i love criticism.
Comments
1 - 20 of 20
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you are so right lol carl
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Oh I do like this very much
. Expertly written, with eloquence, and a clear sense of direction.! Great visuals, and ...basically, it's great twin 
Pt~
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Really like the opening image - it sets the tone of the piece.
This is a hard one to really critique, I think as a whole this is incredibly strong. The piece has a flow to it that works well.
The beginning and ending work, together but asethically in contrast to the other stanzas perhaps not so much. What would be my suggestion, absolutely no idea.
I think its a strong piece -
like this poem a lot as it is, but more i LOVE the last two stanzas on their own as a seperate piece. i don't know if it was intentional but you've got a neat rhyming scheme going with "washerwoman skin" and "birthed life again" that gave the concluding stanza a really blunt factual feeling. the contrast is excellent.
i have no qualms with the rest of it except for the repetition of hattie, it's such a remarkable name that it really sticks out amongst the gentler words around it (plus i'm neurotic about repetition.) just to put forth some suggestions, this is what i would write in place of the hatties:
"mama never smiled
when hattie held me at
night, in storms that ravished
our fields; the youngest daughter,
swollen beneath summer aprons,
plucked cherries and returned
damp with morning.
i remember the freckles on
her washerwoman skin"
i don't know hattie at all so i'm sure you could do that more honestly than i did, still i hope it was in some minute way helpful. really though this poem is like an edit away from being super muthafawkin mind blowin. also, novella?!?!?
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I found it hard to not repeat her name, since the narrator and her family are all female, and "she" would get so confusing. I am definitely considering your "youngest daughter" suggestion.
Your "freckles" idea is excellent; I completely forgot putrefaction is most prominent in surfaced corpses in areas of lividity (head, face, neck), so to someone mildly challenged like Rebecca, that could constitute as "freckles." And, of course, there's anserina cutis and skin maceration...
You are very helpful indeed.
And yes, a novella. It'll be posted here whenever I'm arsed to write more of it.
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Sorry I'm not in the mood to give criticism, but I can still tell you my honest opinion - and that is that I really loved this poem. The water motifs... the pearl tears... everything. It's in the imagery and the way you worded it, I guess. Great work, honestly.
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Wow. This is an interesting story type of poem that you have writtne in here. I guess I didn't see Hattie as the sister, but maybe more like a relative or a hired help kind of person. I really loved the stanza about her growing moss in her belly and birthing life. That was a really great image. You did a good job of expressing yourself here.
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you wrote a touching story of the life and made a scenario here with so much truth..I love this piece..wonderful indeed....
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Your poetry has always been REALLY hard for me to critique, but this should be a little easier than your other stuff. And I feel weird critiquing you, because I know that you would know better than me about all of this. But you asked, so feel free to disregard anything you see fit.
I actually like the first stanza. But it looks a little strange visually. My suggestion would be to take out one of the commas. The fragmented way it's written bothers me a bit, but I do that myself, so perhaps I'm being hypocritical. But my being hypocritical is irrelevant to making your poem the best that it can be. I like the use of tethered, but as for visuals, I might make it more like this:
mama never smiled,
she was a raven statue
tethered to home.
Yeah, I think I'd definitely prefer if that were a period. I think periods give some finality, and the three lines are aesthetically weak, so it's kind of necessary. To me. Maybe aesthetics don't matter, maybe this is stupid.
and when papa left,
mama’s eyes like fat pearls
bloated in currents of tears
and the pines lashed each other
with their iron needles.
The second line here reads very awkward. I might rearrange the whole thing:
when papa left
mama's eyes bloated up
to fat pearls, submerged in
currents of tears
and the pines lashed each other
with their iron needles.
By the way, I love those last two lines there. Just gorgeous. This stanza is tricky because I know that bloated and currents of tears need to be connected, it's important to what you meant, am I right? But I think bloated needs to be connected to fat pearls as well. I don't know, maybe it could be
when papa left
mama's eyes swelled into
fat pearls, bloated in
currents of tears
and the pines lashed each other
with their iron needles.
Or break lines wherever you want. I don't know. I'm just letting you see me think, because I like it so much when people do that for me.
In these next two stanzas you say "hattie" three times. I think it's too much. I think you need to take one of them out. And the two hads in the last stanza bother me a bit too. But I like that "too much of water." I like the allusion.
Whew. I'm surprised you could get this much out of me. Thanks for entering. -
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Thanks so much; seeing how you think is definitely helpful, and honestly, I should critique like this more often, since I try not to be subjective when commenting. But I see what you mean.
I like your suggestions for the second stanza; what do you think of "mama's eyes bloated to fat pearls / in currents of tears"? Noted about the repetition of Hattie's name, too.
Thank you so, so much for your honesty! -
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Yeah, I like that "mama's eyes bloated to fat pearls / in currents of tears." That seems to work.
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the backstory of this poem is extremely interesting, and tragic at the same time. is this story supposed to be from rebecca's point of view, or just a random outside point of view? i think it works best from rebecca's.
i love the line "storms that ravished our fields" & the end was really intense
GHOUL IN A CAPE!
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INSPECTOR GADGET IN KNEE-HIGH SOCKS!
It's from Rebecca's point of view, obviously not my own!
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OH I so enjoyed this. I would love to read the whole story. Wonderfully done.
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This is brilliantly done, it does indeed read like a small part of a chapter from a book. You have given her a life and ran with it. Well done. Love, C
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This is an excellent recounting. The use of words is origonal, but in a way, that it sounds like ideas all of us might have had before. The way you describe eyes, and the images of mama as a raven statue, is particularly vivid. I also like the way you related hattie. Most of all the birthed life again from the moss that burrowed in her belly. I'd like to see more of this story.
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Everything sounds perfect in this. I especially loved the moss bit of it. The images I get are so vivid and different. Your story sounds really good; is it posted on here? (I'll just go check anyway
) The only thing I picked out (which was really minuscule) was in stanza four, I think it would sound better if you replaced one of the commas with a period. Which one, it doesn't matter- they both work to me But that's up to you. And the only other thing (god, I feel stupid for saying this), what does the ending mean? I somewhat understand about the water, but I don't grasp it completely. I like to be reassured. Other than that, this is perfect, don't change it! If you don't win, I'll be mad. 
Jeanette*~
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Nah, not posted on here. I’ve barely started it, but I have plotted it. When I *do* finish a chapter, it’ll certainly be up on Allpoetry!
I knew this was from Hamlet, since I had it on in the background when writing this.. bad idea (“too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia / and therefore I forbid my tears”
. What I meant by Hattie and Rebecca’s mum’s (I haven’t given her a name other than Mrs. Jones) lack of tears when Hattie’s green and bloated body’s pulled from Lake Champlain was that her husband left on a rainy night and she cried so much after that, and then her younger daughter offed herself [and her unborn child] at 17 – and Hattie’s waterlogged death pretty much mourned in her stead. If that makes sense. I don’t think this is done; if I revise it, I’ll elaborate.
Aww, I love your comments. And I never win contests.
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Your name is now...
Rebekka -
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Thanks, will get to this tomorrow, it's midnight here
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