Ode to Sophisticated Mama (edit, new title)

[brynmawr1]

no title yet


Sophisticated Mama come dance with me.
Swing free in the ropey jungle of my arms,
let me float away on the ocean of your hips;
didn’t we get lost in the mountain pass?

Sophisticated Mama wasn’t this how it was?
Those years, lazy yawning blooms of Spring;
lilac, honeysuckle, plump buds of red, red rose.
Then that Summer heat, those thunderstorms,
electric peels of light that split the sky—
didn’t we get wet and wild! 

Sophisticated Mama didn’t those bright colors
of spring and summer, now, seem to last only
those two ticks of the clock?  I’ll tell you,

Sophisticated Mama, some fear the fall 
into the long greying, thinking only of fading
colors.  I’ve been waiting and waiting more 
to hold you before the hearth of our smoldering
fire, relishing the lazy grey of evening’s warmth
spent against winter’s inevitable chill. I’ll tell you,

Sophisticated Mama, when we fall down 
the long slope of winter’s first night, I hope 
we dance; two flakes of snow twirling again
through the mountain pass to land upon a
child’s mitten, melting together under her
laughter, happy only that it is snowing.

I think you are tricking me with the form.
I only rearranged it like this to read it better, some of the enjambment in couples distracted me.  Especially the mountain pass at the end while there's a mountain pass at the beginning.

The couplets are interesting though, the imagery throughout is lovely.  I don't understand the last phrase happy only that it is snowing, probably on me.  I also don't mind the repetition of S.M. but the couplets throw me off, like I want there to be a form, but also if it is a form I want to be off cause it is interesting

So I don't know what else to say,  thanks for sharing

Hi CRNDLSM,
Thanks for reading and commenting.  I wish I were clever enough to be tricky.  The couplet form was a last minute change as I was editing and it just sort of fell into it.  I do really like your rearrangement.  It pulls out some nice emphasis. still thinking about edits but will take your perspective into account.
Thanks again
Bryn

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no title yet


Sophisticated Mama come dance with me.
Swing free in the ropey jungle of my arms,
 
let me float away on the ocean of your hips;
didn’t we get lost in the mountain pass?
 
Sophisticated Mama wasn’t this how it was?
Those years, lazy yawning blooms of Spring;
 
lilac, honeysuckle, plump buds of red, red rose.
Then that Summer heat, those thunderstorms,
 
electric peels of light that split the sky—
didn’t we get wet and wild! Sophisticated Mama
 
didn’t those bright colors of spring and summer,
now, seem to last only those two ticks of the clock?
 
I’ll tell you, Sophisticated Mama, some fear the fall
into the long greying, thinking only of fading colors.
 
I’ve been waiting and waiting more to hold you before
the hearth of our smoldering fire, relishing the lazy grey 
 
of evening’s warmth spent against winter’s inevitable chill.
I’ll tell you, Sophisticated Mama, when we fall down
 
the long slope of winter’s first night, I hope we dance;
two flakes of snow twirling again through the mountain
 
pass to land upon a child’s mitten, melting together
under her laughter, happy only that it is snowing.

In general I feel that some of these words would do better if they were your words - phrases like wet and wild feel like substitutes for something more meaningful and subtle. 

Other parts of this are quite beautiful and evoke great imagery - I hope we dance - two flakes of snow twirling again.

Hi JVD,
thanks for taking the time to read and comment.  You aren't the only one to find that part lacking.
Looking forward to returning the favor,
bryn

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bryn,

What a puzzle. It’s lovely to read. I’m soft-dodging into my thoughts because the other crits didn’t read what I read. Since you didn’t bracket “no title yet,” I assume that’s the title.

This poem can be read one of two ways, and I think you should pick one.

This is either (1) a poem about a union over years that bears a child. It feels like an enagagement proposal, a eulogy, and a present contemplation. And each turn avoids cliche.

If this is a poem meant for a specific person in your life or someone’s life, pseudonymously “Sophisticated Mama,” you don’t need to change a word.

On the other hand.

(2) If Sophisticated Mama is the screen name of an online companion, and surely it is, then this poem is a lot harder to assess. Emotionally harder. Structurally harder. Poetically dramatically harder. Harder. 

Certainly more intriguing.

I don’t like this as a poem that keeps me guessing. If that’s what you’re going for, make it longer. But then, of course, making it longer would give away the game. So, if you’re wanting this to be a light read that upon close reading raises questions, maybe break the rules and say so. If not, a title like, “Sophisticated Mama Love” or something would determine the nature of it.

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I might be miscued by several aspects. Rereading, there’s a past and a future and no present. Paired with a nom d’screen like “Sophisticated Mama” it feels like there’s a false relationship.

Hi Crow,
Sorry, I wasn't aware of the convention for the title, so it really doesn't have a title, but then maybe...  Again, sorry to disappoint, but going for more of option 1, though, as you allude in your final comments I am undecided on the exact nature of the relationship between N and SM.
Thanks for commenting,
bryn