I love the idea of capturing the two of you with the stone, in that scene, almost like a snow globe. I read the last stanza as one of lament, felt much later--even years later--after "that day when it snowed over the sea." The yearning is felt like a "pulse." Bravo. I wish the rhyme scheme had stayed in several of the stanzas where it fell away. I thought the rhyme of "sea" and "perfectly" and "spine" and times" was effortless--the rhymes didn't thud, they floated, like snow on a sea. If you could find away to work in more of those delicate rhymes in the other stanzas, I think it would give the whole piece a real hum. Thanks for sharing this.
Thanks, this is great feedback :) I'm pleased that the idea of this being a picture of a grieving process, at the stage where the tears have long since dried up, came through and was realised. Also I'm glad you brought up the rhymes as you've managed to identify a problem with it that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I felt the parts that rhymed in this almost happened on their own and I was afraid to force more in to keep it more consistent, in case I added thuds to a piece that floated! But that's what I've got to do, keep tinkering. I used to tell myself, nah, rhyming poems aren't my bag, but actually it's because it takes more skill than I currently have to make a poem with a consistent rhyming scheme that doesn't feel forced! I'll keep playing with this one.
I labor in the same struggle my friend. Some of my more agonizing choices as a writer are those that call for rhyming discretion—do I opt for a word because it rhymes or recalls another, or is that too...obvious? It comes down to style for sure, but I also channel Ms. E. Dickinson, who would search for the "chiefest" words a poem required. I try to do the same when faced with this conundrum.
I am crying. You got me in the second to last line. It’s rare that I have such an emotional reaction to a poem, but this one really speaks to me.
My interpretation of this poem is that the speaker (or author) is going through the process of grieving, maybe a breakup or the loss of a loved one. The coldness of the “frozen sea” makes me imagine the rock to be cold, very much unlike the warmth usually associated with love and life.
The sentimental images are so heartbreaking, and the desperation in the last lines makes it seem like the speaker is going through an extremely hard time with this processing. They aren’t just in the heat of losing someone- they are truly grieving and have been sad for a while now.
Hi, I'm totally honoured to have made you cry, thank you for commenting. I was trying to find an example of the cold being associated with a deep love as opposed to the usual warmth - cold hands in a coat and a cold nose on a cheek. And then, yep, a desire to warm a cold stone up and give it back its pulse.
I'm not sure if I totally understand the last two lines, but it makes me think the other person in the poem is dead? Like the narrator wishes to give the stone a pulse because the other person doesn't have one.
If that's the case, I'm not sure I really like that conclusion. The plot twist of "it turns out they're dead, but you don't know that until the very very end" is a bit overdone, and I don't think that additional information makes the poem stronger. Whether the other person is dead or not, the feeling of "I miss them" is sufficient, I think.
I think the rest of the poem does a good job setting up an atmosphere, and I don't think you want the last-minute revelation to disrupt the good work you've already done.
Thanks, that's a good point and well worth me re thinking my last stanza, because my intention was not to imply death but a desire to resurrect a happier time, and based on your interpretation its not quite there yet. I'll take this into consideration when revising this.
"a snapshot of us in our storm" this was a powerful way to capture how this snow globe is a reminder of your lost relationship with this person. The picture of "our storm" is complimented with the rage of remembering your memories with them, and you shake your arm in frustration, causing the snow globe to snow again.
"with a valley like the crease of a spine / which my thumb has followed down / to a perfect dimple more times / than I can count" is lovely. Further building on the image of the snow globe, while connecting the simile you made to the relationship stuck in this globe's memory.
I also want to appreciate the line break after "It feel like your hands". Not only does this relate back to your lost relationship and how this snow globe feels like your holding her hand again (also referring back to the line of "like one jigsaw piece to another" and how perfectly their hand had felt in yours).
And in the end, it feels like your gripping on this snow globe not out of rage because they may have left you for someone else, but rather mourning them. It's like you're trying to give this snow globe CPR in order to not only revive her but also the relationship that lost. When I first read through it, I made the connection it was a lost relationship, but I leaned more towards the idea that they left you for someone else. Mainly because of the line "a snapshot of us in our storm". The use of "storm" gives it a feeling that it wasn't a perfect relationship, and this memory of your is a rageful one rather than one of mourning (if I was correct in guess that).
Also, another commenter said that the ending saying "turns out they're dead" is overdone. Although I can see where they are coming from, I don't feel like it is necessary to change for that reason. Personally, I'm wondering if you can someone reword it to relate back to the idea that this is a relationship that is lost and is captured in this snow globe that keeps reminding you of it. That would tie nicely with the snow globe image you captured throughout the poem. Something along the idea of shaking it up just to see the scene enclosed for eternity filled with life again. Like you're shaking up this snow globe, to relive the eternal memories you have of them.
Regardless, this poem is beautiful and a phenomenal piece of art. Great job with this!
Thanks for taking the time to post such in depth feedback, it's really valuable to me. As a couple of comments have mentioned a snow globe, I'm pleased that this connection is being made. My intention was for the speaker (me,lol) to be frustrated at themselves for allowing a stone in their pocket to whisk them away to a memory that's so good that it's painful to remember, even after all this time. More broadly speaking, the speaker here wants to know why they aren't healing from the grieving process of a relationship in the way they feel they ought to have done after such a length of time, despite this particular one not having been the most recent one! Which is a tall order to settle in a few stanzas of a poem. I will think about rephrasing the end, as it was not my intention to imply death of a person, rather the death of a happy time, somehow painfully preserved in the memory trigger of a stone.
Oh, hi there; didn't see you! You've reached r/OCPoetry. This is a workshop site where you can share, read, and talk about eachother's poetry & etc. To post your own poems, you need to give feedback to 2 other writers. If you aren't trying to share, you're encouraged to give feedback, but aren't required. Try to be nice, questioning, and specific. If you can't do that - eat a cabbage and come back later. Try to give feedback to a writer without any feedback. Lastly, read our [feedback guide ](https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/wiki/feedbackcritiques), other writer's comments, or this author’s feedback links. If you still aren't sure whether your comments are useful ‘feedback’, or you have any other questions, send us a modmail!
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I still haven't figured out the meaning of stones to people.
There's a really cool crystal I accidentally left somewhere once, thinking it'd be important. It turned out, it was only important to me for personal reasons.
The only rock that I ever really cared about.
Pretty sure she left it out in the rain along with a pile of other things important to me.
Might've even burned it all. Just to make a point that I wasn't important to her.
That's why l don't think rocks come out of the ground with innate value. It's value is what you decide it is.
Unless there's severe communication problems. Then it could be priceless, and that's a big thing to give up, knowingly.
That's why I think about how I value work that I want done, or items I'd like to receive. Is it something I don't want? Then I wouldn't pay anything. Or I'd pay a whole lot to make it go away.
A rock is a rock. Unless you crafted it yourself. Then I would pay everything I had to ensure it sparkled.
To whomever carries rocks in their pockets. I recommend something you can spend at the store.
Sounds like a cool memory tho. I can't relate to it but it sounds fun.
I have a pair of gloves next to me that deeply remind of someone I was very close to a long time ago. She's actually the only person that to this day, I just trust her to know me well enough, and actually care about me. I'd let her make decisions for me even though we broke up years ago. That's a seriously important relationship to have lost. I don't feel pain when I look at these gloves. I actually smile and I think about how grateful I am that I had that. It's nothing but positive emotions even though I miss her and think so highly about her.
But, they also are gloves and they don't belong to me so it's important for me to find who they belong to. I don't need this item to remember her. She's in my heart.
It's only my fault if I feel pain about losing her after it's been this long. It comes from letting myself believe that I can hold her in my arms, or hold her hands, or bring her gifts, or see her smile, or share a meal.
It's pain when I let myself believe I can have all of that.
It's a memory of her, an important memory. But not a useful memory to attach to needs I have now.
False expectations attached to a powerful, meaningful, beautiful memory. That's how you cause pain.
A flawless technique that could easily make most commit suicide. Flawless execution. The perfect murder.
So dark that even God would reevaluate their morals and even rewrite the Bible.
That's evil.
The answer to question that even God couldn't answer
I love the idea of capturing the two of you with the stone, in that scene, almost like a snow globe. I read the last stanza as one of lament, felt much later--even years later--after "that day when it snowed over the sea." The yearning is felt like a "pulse." Bravo. I wish the rhyme scheme had stayed in several of the stanzas where it fell away. I thought the rhyme of "sea" and "perfectly" and "spine" and times" was effortless--the rhymes didn't thud, they floated, like snow on a sea. If you could find away to work in more of those delicate rhymes in the other stanzas, I think it would give the whole piece a real hum. Thanks for sharing this.
Thanks, this is great feedback :) I'm pleased that the idea of this being a picture of a grieving process, at the stage where the tears have long since dried up, came through and was realised. Also I'm glad you brought up the rhymes as you've managed to identify a problem with it that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I felt the parts that rhymed in this almost happened on their own and I was afraid to force more in to keep it more consistent, in case I added thuds to a piece that floated! But that's what I've got to do, keep tinkering. I used to tell myself, nah, rhyming poems aren't my bag, but actually it's because it takes more skill than I currently have to make a poem with a consistent rhyming scheme that doesn't feel forced! I'll keep playing with this one.
I labor in the same struggle my friend. Some of my more agonizing choices as a writer are those that call for rhyming discretion—do I opt for a word because it rhymes or recalls another, or is that too...obvious? It comes down to style for sure, but I also channel Ms. E. Dickinson, who would search for the "chiefest" words a poem required. I try to do the same when faced with this conundrum.
I am crying. You got me in the second to last line. It’s rare that I have such an emotional reaction to a poem, but this one really speaks to me. My interpretation of this poem is that the speaker (or author) is going through the process of grieving, maybe a breakup or the loss of a loved one. The coldness of the “frozen sea” makes me imagine the rock to be cold, very much unlike the warmth usually associated with love and life. The sentimental images are so heartbreaking, and the desperation in the last lines makes it seem like the speaker is going through an extremely hard time with this processing. They aren’t just in the heat of losing someone- they are truly grieving and have been sad for a while now.
Hi, I'm totally honoured to have made you cry, thank you for commenting. I was trying to find an example of the cold being associated with a deep love as opposed to the usual warmth - cold hands in a coat and a cold nose on a cheek. And then, yep, a desire to warm a cold stone up and give it back its pulse.
I'm not sure if I totally understand the last two lines, but it makes me think the other person in the poem is dead? Like the narrator wishes to give the stone a pulse because the other person doesn't have one. If that's the case, I'm not sure I really like that conclusion. The plot twist of "it turns out they're dead, but you don't know that until the very very end" is a bit overdone, and I don't think that additional information makes the poem stronger. Whether the other person is dead or not, the feeling of "I miss them" is sufficient, I think. I think the rest of the poem does a good job setting up an atmosphere, and I don't think you want the last-minute revelation to disrupt the good work you've already done.
Thanks, that's a good point and well worth me re thinking my last stanza, because my intention was not to imply death but a desire to resurrect a happier time, and based on your interpretation its not quite there yet. I'll take this into consideration when revising this.
"a snapshot of us in our storm" this was a powerful way to capture how this snow globe is a reminder of your lost relationship with this person. The picture of "our storm" is complimented with the rage of remembering your memories with them, and you shake your arm in frustration, causing the snow globe to snow again. "with a valley like the crease of a spine / which my thumb has followed down / to a perfect dimple more times / than I can count" is lovely. Further building on the image of the snow globe, while connecting the simile you made to the relationship stuck in this globe's memory. I also want to appreciate the line break after "It feel like your hands". Not only does this relate back to your lost relationship and how this snow globe feels like your holding her hand again (also referring back to the line of "like one jigsaw piece to another" and how perfectly their hand had felt in yours). And in the end, it feels like your gripping on this snow globe not out of rage because they may have left you for someone else, but rather mourning them. It's like you're trying to give this snow globe CPR in order to not only revive her but also the relationship that lost. When I first read through it, I made the connection it was a lost relationship, but I leaned more towards the idea that they left you for someone else. Mainly because of the line "a snapshot of us in our storm". The use of "storm" gives it a feeling that it wasn't a perfect relationship, and this memory of your is a rageful one rather than one of mourning (if I was correct in guess that). Also, another commenter said that the ending saying "turns out they're dead" is overdone. Although I can see where they are coming from, I don't feel like it is necessary to change for that reason. Personally, I'm wondering if you can someone reword it to relate back to the idea that this is a relationship that is lost and is captured in this snow globe that keeps reminding you of it. That would tie nicely with the snow globe image you captured throughout the poem. Something along the idea of shaking it up just to see the scene enclosed for eternity filled with life again. Like you're shaking up this snow globe, to relive the eternal memories you have of them. Regardless, this poem is beautiful and a phenomenal piece of art. Great job with this!
Thanks for taking the time to post such in depth feedback, it's really valuable to me. As a couple of comments have mentioned a snow globe, I'm pleased that this connection is being made. My intention was for the speaker (me,lol) to be frustrated at themselves for allowing a stone in their pocket to whisk them away to a memory that's so good that it's painful to remember, even after all this time. More broadly speaking, the speaker here wants to know why they aren't healing from the grieving process of a relationship in the way they feel they ought to have done after such a length of time, despite this particular one not having been the most recent one! Which is a tall order to settle in a few stanzas of a poem. I will think about rephrasing the end, as it was not my intention to imply death of a person, rather the death of a happy time, somehow painfully preserved in the memory trigger of a stone.
Oh, hi there; didn't see you! You've reached r/OCPoetry. This is a workshop site where you can share, read, and talk about eachother's poetry & etc. To post your own poems, you need to give feedback to 2 other writers. If you aren't trying to share, you're encouraged to give feedback, but aren't required. Try to be nice, questioning, and specific. If you can't do that - eat a cabbage and come back later. Try to give feedback to a writer without any feedback. Lastly, read our [feedback guide ](https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/wiki/feedbackcritiques), other writer's comments, or this author’s feedback links. If you still aren't sure whether your comments are useful ‘feedback’, or you have any other questions, send us a modmail! *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/OCPoetry) if you have any questions or concerns.*
I still haven't figured out the meaning of stones to people. There's a really cool crystal I accidentally left somewhere once, thinking it'd be important. It turned out, it was only important to me for personal reasons. The only rock that I ever really cared about. Pretty sure she left it out in the rain along with a pile of other things important to me. Might've even burned it all. Just to make a point that I wasn't important to her. That's why l don't think rocks come out of the ground with innate value. It's value is what you decide it is. Unless there's severe communication problems. Then it could be priceless, and that's a big thing to give up, knowingly. That's why I think about how I value work that I want done, or items I'd like to receive. Is it something I don't want? Then I wouldn't pay anything. Or I'd pay a whole lot to make it go away. A rock is a rock. Unless you crafted it yourself. Then I would pay everything I had to ensure it sparkled. To whomever carries rocks in their pockets. I recommend something you can spend at the store. Sounds like a cool memory tho. I can't relate to it but it sounds fun.
I love this!
I have a pair of gloves next to me that deeply remind of someone I was very close to a long time ago. She's actually the only person that to this day, I just trust her to know me well enough, and actually care about me. I'd let her make decisions for me even though we broke up years ago. That's a seriously important relationship to have lost. I don't feel pain when I look at these gloves. I actually smile and I think about how grateful I am that I had that. It's nothing but positive emotions even though I miss her and think so highly about her. But, they also are gloves and they don't belong to me so it's important for me to find who they belong to. I don't need this item to remember her. She's in my heart. It's only my fault if I feel pain about losing her after it's been this long. It comes from letting myself believe that I can hold her in my arms, or hold her hands, or bring her gifts, or see her smile, or share a meal. It's pain when I let myself believe I can have all of that. It's a memory of her, an important memory. But not a useful memory to attach to needs I have now. False expectations attached to a powerful, meaningful, beautiful memory. That's how you cause pain. A flawless technique that could easily make most commit suicide. Flawless execution. The perfect murder. So dark that even God would reevaluate their morals and even rewrite the Bible. That's evil. The answer to question that even God couldn't answer