Palmer Park

[Mcfair]

Palmer Park
 
Always a paper bag tucked in Grandma’s sideboard
where she saved hard crusts of bread.
For those days when all of the money was spent,
and it meant Grandpa was home
full of undiluted energy
and he’d take me for a walk to Palmer Park. 
Five long blocks of countless cracks
and somewhere along the way
the houses got bigger, fatter
with pillared porches, guarded
by lions or giant stone pots,
overflowing with store-bought geraniums.
At the park, we’d sit side by side
on a sunny bench and divide the tidbits
from Grandma’s paper bag.
Take turns tossing overhand arches
of bread gone hard and good for aiming
to feed the smaller ducks and little birds.
 
Burnt toast, stale saltines,
and popovers leftover
after the roast was gone. . .

[Achebe]

and somewhere along the way
the houses got bigger, fatter

is incisive.
another sweet, atmospheric poem. I'm becoming a fan.

minor cribs:
1) from Grandma’s paper bag. --> the ownership of the paper bag is clear from L1, and I don't think there's anything gained from repeating 'Grandma's'. Reads better without this line
2) after the roast was gone. . . --> as a general rule, I am not fond of ellipses. A simple fullstop should be enough here.

[Mcfair]

and somewhere along the way
the houses got bigger, fatter

is incisive.
another sweet, atmospheric poem. I'm becoming a fan.

minor cribs:
1) from Grandma’s paper bag. --> the ownership of the paper bag is clear from L1, and I don't think there's anything gained from repeating 'Grandma's'. Reads better without this line
2) after the roast was gone. . . --> as a general rule, I am not fond of ellipses. A simple fullstop should be enough here.

Thank you, I'm so glad you enjoyed this.  You make a very good point on the second Grandma, it may be too sentimental, and I know you are right about the ellipse, I will be leaving that out.  Mcfair

[MAE27]

I really like the sense of nostalgia and memory you get from this poem. I wonder if it would be improved by deleting all reference to Grandma/Grandpa as I think the reader can infer (through things like the geraniums etc.) that this is a poem about somebody old/ somebody missing family (grandparents probably). I think the reader would relate to it more and the name Grandpa/Grandma makes it too personal to you. I would like to journey through the poem and make my own mind up about the people you are missing and who they were to you.

Palmer Park
 
Always a paper bag tucked in Grandma’s sideboard
where she saved hard crusts of bread.
For those days when all of the money was spent,
and it meant Grandpa was home
full of undiluted energy
and he’d take me for a walk to Palmer Park. 
Five long blocks of countless cracks
and somewhere along the way
the houses got bigger, fatter
with pillared porches, guarded
by lions or giant stone pots,
overflowing with store-bought geraniums.
At the park, we’d sit side by side
on a sunny bench and divide the tidbits
from Grandma’s paper bag.
Take turns tossing overhand arches
of bread gone hard and good for aiming
to feed the smaller ducks and little birds.
 
Burnt toast, stale saltines,
and popovers leftover
after the roast was gone. . .

[mcauburn]

I really enjoyed the visuals you painted with your poem. "Five long blocks of countless cracks..." That brings back great memories of walking on the sidewalk and jumping over the cracks, so I wouldn't break my mother's back . Love the sharing, on the bench" moment as well. Who hasn't spent a special moment sharing a goodie with grandpa on a bench, chair etc... Thanks for sharing.

[roggi]

A snapshot of social commentary, I like the theme and observations of wealth and impoverishment.  Nicely put together, but not sure if it's too brief, maybe it could engage more with description of the protagonists. I'm keen to see more.

[browtm7]

Another beautiful piece Mcfair.

Time spent making good memories beats out all other riches.

Not sure you need "hard" in the first sentence as it reads clearly and beautifully in:

Take turns tossing overhand arches
of bread gone hard and good for aiming
to feed the smaller ducks and little birds.


Thanks for sharing it.
TB

[Beat Eater]

This poem is not so in your face, but it sinks in deep.

I also like the nostalgic feeling I got when reading.
Here is what I have speculation on:

"For the days when all the money was spent". This made it seem like Grandma was saving the old bread to eat for lack of money to buy food, but then later it's being fed to ducks and birds, which makes sense. Why is the stale bread saved for when there is no money? I don' feel this was clearly expressed.

"And it meant Grandpa was home".
What meant Grandpa was home? Was the bag of bread in the sideboard a sign that Grandpa was home because he liked feeding the birds with his grandchild? How would a bag of stale bread indicate this?

The last thing would be the punctuation. It felt a little inconsistent, although that could just be my own lack of knowledge on the subject. It seed like you used line breaks and commas for pauses. It gets a bit confusing as a reader.

Great poem!
It was very enjoyable to read.

[The anti-anthropocentrist]

I have read this a few times now, each time it has come across with flying colours.

I really do like the imagery involved.

"Five long blocks of countless cracks
and somewhere along the way
the houses got bigger, fatter
with pillared porches, guarded 
by lions or giant stone pots, 
overflowing with store-bought geraniums."

This part in particular is very nice indeed, except for the last word. In my eyes it is a little jarring and 'out of beat'. I can't really tell you much more, as that is limit of my critique.

Thank you.

[UselessBlueprint]

I've looked at this poem a few times each day trying to find a way to respond to it. This has not been easy. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or not. As far as critique goes, I'm really only questionable on some of the line breaks, as I can't find a reason for them to be one way instead of another (lines 9-11). Possibly, the fact that I can't reason on those line breaks might be why I see this piece as just memory. If that's primarily what this poem is, then I see nothing wrong with it, nor would there be anything I think needs much improvement.