Here’s a new poem for which I’d like some honest feedback.

[hozbreak]

Drought

Milo’s scavenged everything. Holed up in his cave

he’s surrounded by Mr Clever Clog’s detritus—

a wishing well of missed opportunities,

crimes against friends and family,

memories of love affairs sucked dry as tinder—

while Mr Clever Clogs is out there dying of thirst

on a mindless plain of exposed rock and sand.

 

It hasn’t always been this way for Mr C.

Trouble is he’s forgotten the drought of 76.

He’s forgotten the apple orchards of childhood.

He’s forgotten the sand castles and bunting, and his first kiss.

He’s forgotten his wife and kids, now just distant memories.

He’s forgotten all the bad things, and most of the good.

All that’s left is this Gobi of emptiness.

 

At night his dreams are of the same dry climate,

rocks and the distant mirage of laughter.

Behind him he sometimes senses a shadow.

He doesn’t know it’s Milo waiting to snare a memory.

When he whips round he never catches a glimpse

of Milo’s face or sees what’s stashed in Milo’s cave.

He only wakes with a start, weeping, with no idea why.

11 responses

  1. Okay.

    I think the metaphor works very well but is perhaps overdone here and there.

    Now that I’ve read it many times I have something radical to offer. Ahem.

    I really like ‘love affairs sucked dry as tinder’ and think it would be great as a stanza ending. But this leaves a problem – how to show us Mr C dying of thirst. Perhaps then the first stanza should belong to Milo and the second to Mr C. Now stanza 2 contains ‘dying of thirst’, ‘mindless plain’, ‘exposed rock and sand’, ‘drought of 76’, ‘Gobi of emptiness’. Could some of these be cut?

    And so to Stanza 3 featuring both Milo and Mr C. Could it lose lines 1 & 2, d’you think? And, so that we can make sense of the final line, could the new line 1 (former line 3) begin ‘In dreams he sometimes senses a shadow.’ And could the final line lose ‘with no idea why’ because ‘weeping’ is such a strong image to end on?

    Having said all that I think it’s a great poem, lovely to see Milo again. Get it sent off!!

    1. Thanks Robbie. You are quite right about it being over-egged in places. I’ve revamped it with your comments in mind, so it’s now shorter.

      Drought

      While Mr Clever Clogs is dying of thirst
      that scavenger Milo’s holed up in a cave
      surrounded by Mr Clever Clog’s detritus—
      a wishing well of missed opportunities,
      crimes against friends and family,
      memories of love affairs sucked dry as tinder.

      It hasn’t always been this way for Mr C
      among the rocks and distant mirage of laughter.
      He’s forgotten the apple orchards of childhood.
      He’s forgotten the sand castles and bunting, and his first kiss.
      He’s forgotten his wife and kids, now just distant memories.
      All that’s left is this Gobi desert of emptiness.

      At night his dreams are filled with torment.
      Sometimes he senses a shadow behind him
      but doesn’t know it’s Milo poised to snare a memory.
      Sometimes he whips round to try and catch a glimpse
      of Milo’s face and see what’s stashed in Milo’s cave
      only to wake with a start, weeping.

  2. I liked the beginning of the first draft better. I liked the first draft’s ‘never catching a glimpse’ in the final stanza. I think I preferred ‘dry climate’ to ‘torment’.
    I liked ‘Gobi of emptiness’ – I know the Gobi’s a desert.
    Oh dear. I suppose I’m saying that, while the first draft over-egged it a bit, I enjoyed its voice.

    1. Well, reading the second version a day later I have to say I prefer the original even though it’s a bit OTT in places. But then many of my Milo poems – there are 22 of them now – are OTT. I think I will retrace my steps and just tone down the first version. Thanks though Robbie, it was worthwhile trying out your suggestions. Maybe someone else has some ideas. Who hates it? Who likes it?

  3. How about this version?

    Drought

    Milo scavenges everything. Holed up in his cave
    he’s surrounded by Mr Clever Clog’s detritus—
    a wishing well of missed opportunities,
    crimes against friends and family,
    memories of love affairs sucked dry as tinder.

    Mr Clever Clogs is out there dying of thirst
    in a mindless desert with mirages of laughter.
    He’s forgotten the apple orchards of childhood.
    He’s forgotten the sand castles and bunting, and his first kiss.
    All that’s left is this Gobi of emptiness.

    In dreams he sometimes senses a shadow.
    He doesn’t know it’s Milo waiting to snare a memory.
    When he whips round he never catches a glimpse
    of Milo’s face or sees what’s stashed in Milo’s cave.
    He only wakes with a start, weeping.

  4. I like the feel of the original even if it’s a bit OTT. Perhaps its OTTness is appropriate for the protagonist’s state of mind! Version 3 works well, although, given ‘mirages’ and ‘Gobi’, the phrase ‘in a mindless desert’ seems redundant (and I’m not sure what it means anyway!). I find ‘only’ in the last line awkward. Why not omit it?

    1. Thanks Martin. Point taken about ‘mindless desert’ and ‘only’ in the last line. I imagine ‘mindless’ is there because Mr C and Milo are related by mind. I’ve got a couple of dozen Milo poems now that have appeared over the last five or six years. Lately Mr C has been uncovered as well, offering a new perspective.

  5. This comment is a bit late, sorry. Yes, I like the third version. I agree with Martin, you could ditch ‘only’. Maybe ‘mindless desert’ could go too… I take Martin’s point about ‘mirages’ and ‘Gobi’.

    1. Thanks for the comments Robbie and Martin. Here’s the final (?) version. It now conforms to my prime number rules.

      Sucked dry

      Milo scavenges everything. Holed up in his cave
      he’s surrounded by Mr C’s detritus—
      a wishing well of missed opportunities,
      crimes against family friends,
      memories of old love affairs sucked dry as tinder.

      Meanwhile Mr C is out dying of thirst
      in a mindless desert with mirages of laughter.
      He’s forgotten the apple orchards of his childhood.
      He’s forgotten sand castles, bunting, and his first kiss.
      He’s forgotten his wife and kids, now lost memories.
      He’s forgotten all the bad things, and most of the good.
      All that’s left is this Gobi of emptiness.

      In dreams he sometimes senses a shadow behind him.
      He doesn’t know it’s Milo waiting to snare another memory.
      When he whips round he never catches a glimpse
      of Milo’s face or sees what’s stashed in his cave.
      He wakes with a start, weeping.

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