Florida Girl (Edit 1)

[Elizazile]

Thank you everyone for the feedback so far! Here is version two

Edit 1:


Warm oozes in
through the wooden backbone
of your mostly concrete home;
concrete and wood,
the anthem of here.
Day-old plazas
appear classic at sunset,
crumbling docks
perched at water's edges, resting sleepy and uneasy
to be scrapped away next hurricane season
or maybe
stand their ground another year.

Unchanging as our seasons,
Florida girl, you never thought you'd be
our most fiery defense
nor unwilling hostage
yet here you are,
clinging to steamy sidewalks,
radiating through the soles of your Vans
("my body wasn't made for this!").

Unchanging, you are, as the Florida fall:
making a season from scratch
with spirit, with cider and cinnamon sticks,
avocado vomit from a jack-o-lantern mouth
your friend dressed up as her 'ideal self'
your ex and me in the same pumpkin T-shirt
(whoops).
Florida's fall
has little to do with Florida at all
And you pull it in close like a hug.

Unwavering as those few weeks
of still, wet, winter air
biting down in spite of a sky that smiles blue,
happy to host this
traffic of touristing cardinals,
woodpeckers and northern pintails,
flocking to greet you like the old friends
who, too, roll in around this time.

Unceasing as the spring and summer showers,
some torrential, blurring away 
what once seemed near
but just for now,
rain-smacked mud puddles
splash themselves on the wet engine-heat
of cars who've learned to drive straight through this
half-blind, for a moment.
Or the cloudless kind,
sprinkles from nowhere,
God flicking Her wet hands from above;
Where do these happy tears come from?

And where do you think you're going,
Florida girl?
Cupping in your hands a life
that pools up, is full, spills out again,
ever unchanging in the staleness and the newness
it brings you and then
lets seep away.
My favorite in all this:
One of those soft Florida hands
left to drip-dry
reaches out 
for one of mine.











Original:

Unchanging as our seasons
Florida girl you never thought you'd be
our most ardent defender
nor unwilling hostage
but here you are.

Clinging to steamy sidewalks,
radiating through the soles of your vans
("my body wasn't made for this!").

Warm seeps in
through the wooden skeleton
of your mostly concrete home;
Concrete and wood,
the anthem of here.
Concrete plazas,
somehow glowing in the sunset,
crumbling wooden docks
perched at water's edges, resting sleepy and uneasy
to be scrapped away next hurricane season-
or perhaps stand strong-
Walked on by all manner of gulls,
pelicans, egrets and spoonbills
in the meantime.

Unchanging, you are
as the Florida Fall:
putting forth the effort fall here requires
in spirit, in cider and cinnamon sticks,
avocado vomit from a jack-o-lantern mouth
your friend dressed up as her 'ideal self'
your ex and me in the same pumpkin shirt
(whoops).
Florida's Fall
has little to do with Florida at all
And you pull it in close like a hug.

Unchanging as the spring and summer showers.
Some torrential,
everything but two feet ahead
obscured for now,
mud puddles danced in by rain
splatter themselves on the wet engine-heat
of cars who've learned to drive straight through this
half-blind.
Or the kind without a cloud in sight,
sprinkles from nowhere,
God flicking her wet hands from above;
Where do these happy tears come from?

And where do you come from
Florida girl
Unchanging as those few weeks
of still, wet, winter air
biting down in spite of a sky that smiles blue,
happy to host this traffick
of touristing bluebirds,
cardinals, woodpeckers and northern pintails.

Cupping in your hands a life
that pools up, is full, spills out again,
ever unchanging in the staleness and the newness
it brings to you and lets seep away.
My favorite in all this
is when you take one of those Florida hands
let it drip dry
and reach out to hold mine.

[dukealien]

Unchanging as our seasons
Florida girl you never thought you'd be
our most ardent defender
nor unwilling hostage
but here you are.

Clinging to steamy sidewalks,
radiating through the soles of your vans
("my body wasn't made for this!").

Warm seeps in
through the wooden skeleton
of your mostly concrete home;
Concrete and wood,
the anthem of here.
Concrete plazas,
somehow glowing in the sunset,
crumbling wooden docks
perched at water's edges, resting sleepy and uneasy
to be scrapped away next hurricane season-
or perhaps stand strong-
Walked on by all manner of gulls,
pelicans, egrets and spoonbills
in the meantime.

Unchanging, you are
as the Florida Fall:
putting forth the effort fall here requires
in spirit, in cider and cinnamon sticks,
avocado vomit from a jack-o-lantern mouth
your friend dressed up as her 'ideal self'
your ex and me in the same pumpkin shirt
(whoops).
Florida's Fall
has little to do with Florida at all
And you pull it in close like a hug.

Unchanging as the spring and summer showers.
Some torrential,
everything but two feet ahead
obscured for now,
mud puddles danced in by rain
splatter themselves on the wet engine-heat
of cars who've learned to drive straight through this
half-blind.
Or the kind without a cloud in sight,
sprinkles from nowhere,
God flicking her wet hands from above;
Where do these happy tears come from?

And where do you come from
Florida girl
Unchanging as those few weeks
of still, wet, winter air
biting down in spite of a sky that smiles blue,
happy to host this traffick
of touristing bluebirds,
cardinals, woodpeckers and northern pintails.

Cupping in your hands a life
that pools up, is full, spills out again,
ever unchanging in the staleness and the newness
it brings to you and lets seep away.
My favorite in all this
is when you take one of those Florida hands
let it drip dry
and reach out to hold mine.

Gentle and well-observed.  In mild to moderate critique, first a few punctuation notes.  In S3 L3-4, "Concrete" should not be capitalized after semicolon; also S3 L10-11 there should be no capitalization after the em dash.  And (one of my favorite, but still active archaisms) S4, last two lines, "her" refers back to God and should therefore be capitalized (and the following line should not be capitalized, again following a semicolon).

With those nits picked, a few phrases approach cliche - "ardent defender" and "putting forth the effort," for example.  Think of different ways to express these ideas:  you have a gift for original and arresting phrases such as "resting sleepy and uneasy," "avocado vomit," and "God flicking [H]er wet hands."  There are others.

Finally, the rhythm is a little jumbled - quite fitting for theme and subject, but (in my view) harmful in spots.  For example, I can't help being slightly dissatisfied with the last line:  can't find an aloud reading of it that matches what it's saying.  Could be the phrasing:  a break after "out" seems to help.

Other critics will, no doubt, recommend removing some material, and they're right.  But there is about the present length a certain laziness (in a good way) that fits the theme.  Perhaps it needs a different organization or sequence of its ideas.

Playful and pleasant:  looking forward to edits.

[Elizazile]

hi dukealien,
Thanks so much for your feedback! I definitely see what you are saying about the jumbled rhythm, it's something I struggle with in longer poems (which I rarely write so it's funny this one got away from me like this). And the last line is what I want in my *mind* but agreed that it's not satisfying spoken aloud. Going to work on re-structuring some things and hopefully update with an edited version in a bit!

[Richard]

Hey Elizazile,
I like some of the imagery in this piece. My biggest suggestion would to be more economical with your language in spots. I'll go into more detail below:

Unchanging as our seasons
Florida girl you never thought you'd be -I feel like this line would make a stronger title. You could even play around with the first line connecting to this title. That would mean rearranging this first stanza a bit, but it would be worth it. Your current title isn't terrible, but it just feels like it's missing something to me. 
our most ardent defender
nor unwilling hostage
but here you are.

Clinging to steamy sidewalks,
radiating through the soles of your vans -This is one of the images that I quite like. It's the type of line that made me stop and reread it over and over in a good way.
("my body wasn't made for this!"). -I suggest writing the lines like this in italics. That would create the desired effect.

Warm seeps in
through the wooden skeleton
of your mostly concrete home;
Concrete and wood,
the anthem of here.
Concrete plazas,
somehow glowing in the sunset,
crumbling wooden docks -My main concern here is the repetition of the words "wood/wooden" and "concrete". I don't feel like they're important enough to warrant the emphasis from the repetition, so I would suggest rewording or omitting some of them. 
perched at water's edges, resting sleepy and uneasy
to be scrapped away next hurricane season-
or perhaps stand strong-
Walked on by all manner of gulls,
pelicans, egrets and spoonbills
in the meantime.

Unchanging, you are
as the Florida Fall:
putting forth the effort fall here requires
in spirit, in cider and cinnamon sticks,
avocado vomit from a jack-o-lantern mouth -This is my favorite line in the whole poem. It's a vivid image that works with what you're saying here.
your friend dressed up as her 'ideal self'
your ex and me in the same pumpkin shirt
(whoops).
Florida's Fall
has little to do with Florida at all
And you pull it in close like a hug. -This is the strongest stanza in the entire piece. I love the imagery here. My only suggestion might be to think about starting the poem with this because it's so strong.

Unchanging as the spring and summer showers. -The word "unchanging" is important to what you're saying in this piece, so the repetition is warranted. I just wonder if you could play around with using a different word? Just a thought.
Some torrential,
everything but two feet ahead
obscured for now,
mud puddles danced in by rain
splatter themselves on the wet engine-heat
of cars who've learned to drive straight through this
half-blind.
Or the kind without a cloud in sight,
sprinkles from nowhere,
God flicking her wet hands from above;
Where do these happy tears come from? -I'm unsure about the "happy tears". It's an image you might consider expanding on.

And where do you come from
Florida girl -I'm not sure if it's correct grammar, but I feel like you should end this line with a question mark. Maybe a comma? 
Unchanging as those few weeks
of still, wet, winter air
biting down in spite of a sky that smiles blue,
happy to host this traffick -traffic
of touristing bluebirds, -I like how you play with the word "tourist" as an adjective. Personally, I feel like you could expand on the birds here. It feels like a potent image you could get more out of. I hope that makes sense.
cardinals, woodpeckers and northern pintails.

Cupping in your hands a life -I find the start of the last stanza a bit unclear. Is the "life" here one of the birds or the rain water? If it's the water, then this stanza should follow that one.
that pools up, is full, spills out again,
ever unchanging in the staleness and the newness
it brings to you and lets seep away.
My favorite in all this
is when you take one of those Florida hands
let it drip dry
and reach out to hold mine. -I like the last four lines. They make me wonder who the speaker could be.

I think you have a good start here, and I look forward to seeing where you take this piece from here.

Thanks for the read,
Richard

[Knot]

Hi Elizazile,
I'm largely in agreement with duke, particularly as regards rhythm.
My main punctuation nit would be the lack of a comma after either 'seasons'
or Florida girl' in the opening verse (there are others, but they are easy fixes).
Not convinced by S2, though maybe it is in the wrong place?
Some thoughts/suggestions.
(I think S3 would make a stronger start, so...)

Warm seeps through the wooden skeleton
- ('Warm seeps' is a little flat, given what follows,
also, maybe the softer 'frames' for 'skeleton'?)
of your mostly concrete home; concrete
and wood, the anthem here. Concrete
- (I think you need to make more use of 'anthem',
where is the music in the rest of the verse?)
plazas, glowing in the sunset, somehow.
Wooden docks, perched at water's edges,
crumbling, sleepy and uneasy, [beneath
a chorus] of gulls, pelicans, egrets
and spoonbills,[waiting] to be scrapped away
next hurricane season.  In the meantime...

Unchanging Florida
girl, you never thought
you'd be our most ardent
defender, nor unwilling
- Again, I'm with duke, 'ardent defender' is rather weak.
hostage. But here you are.

Unchanging, as the Florida Fall,
putting forth [all] the effort fall requires;
in spirit, in cider, [in] cinnamon sticks,
[and] avocado vomit from a jack-o-lantern mouth.
Your friend dressed up as her 'ideal self',
me and your ex in the same pumpkin shirt
(whoops!) Florida's Fall
has little to do with Florida at all,
[but] you pull it in close like a hug.

Unchanging as those few weeks of wet
winter air, still, biting down in spite
of a sky that smiles blue, happy to host this
- like 'biting down in spite of a sky that smiles'
and 'traffick of touristing' (though perhaps
without the 'k'?)
traffick of touristing bluebirds, cardinals,
woodpeckers and northern pintails.

Unchanging spring and summer showers.
Some torrential, everything but two feet ahead
- like summer/some
obscured for now, rain danc[ing in] mud[,]
puddles splatter themselves on the wet engine-heat
of cars driv[ing] straight through this[,] half-blind.
[Others,] the kind without a cloud in sight,[then]
- nice sonics in these last two lines.
sprinkles from nowhere, God flicking her wet hands.
Where do these happy tears come from?
- It's almost parenthetical, do you need it?

[In the meantime...]
Cup your hands. Life that pools up,
is full, spills out again, ever unchanging
in the staleness and the newness it brings
to you and lets seep away.
My favorite in all this is when you take one
- bit lost on 'my favourite in all this' (you favourite what?)
Would it work if it was
My favourite, Florida girl, is when you take one ?
of those Florida hands let it drip dry
and reach out to hold mine.
- Very nice ending.


Enjoyed the read.


Best, Knot.

[dukealien]

I like edit 1, it cleans up and clarifies without actually explaining.  Good!

As expected, other critics press to economize on words.  That would be beneficial, however the many words (but watch actual repetition) are a part of the poem's spirit and character so don't go to extremes.  Patter is patter, and while ideally every word should be necessary, sometimes two words are better than one, hence necessary.  Even repetition can be necessary repetition   .

But see (for example) which stanza is least necessary; could extracts of it in another stanza work just as well?

[Knot]

Hey Eliza.

Edit 1.

S1
Day-old plazas
appear classic at sunset,
- Nice image, but 'classical' for classic?
crumbling docks
perched at water's edges, resting sleepy and uneasy
- perhaps 'rest' for resting'

S2.
Weakest verse still. Obviously just me,
but I don't think it add anything.
(Reads like an alternate ending)

S3
Unchanging, you are, as the Florida fall:
- I find the syntax a bit intrusive, a bit harsh.
Even 'You are as unchanging as the Florida fall:'
seems to flow a bit smoother.
making a season from scratch
- really nice change! Lifts the whole verse up.

S4
who, too, roll in around this time.
- don't think 'too' works.
(Bit close to, 'they do too roll in')

S5
but just for now,
rain-smacked mud puddles
- perhaps
but for now, just ?

S6
As with all the verses, I don't think you're
making the most of your line breaks, and
the switches from the (very) long lines
to the one or two word ones are visually
unappealing (somewhat ragged), to me
at least.

All that said, I enjoyed the read, and
again I agree with duke, you've improved
the piece.


Best, Knot

[nozaki]

Warm oozes in--oozes... on the fence 
through the wooden backbone
of your mostly concrete home;
concrete and wood,--I can't say I'm in love with how these lines are phrased, nor how they work as an opener. 
the anthem of here.
Day-old plazas--think you could do better than day-old. 
appear classic at sunset,
crumbling docks
perched at water's edges, resting sleepy and uneasy--would cut 'resting'
to be scrapped away next hurricane season
or maybe
stand their ground another year.--much stronger second half. having read over the entire poem, I think this is the least lyrical stanza. 

Unchanging as our seasons,
Florida girl, you never thought you'd be
our most fiery defense
nor unwilling hostage--interesting lines, but vague when put up against the snapshots of life. 
yet here you are,
clinging to steamy sidewalks,
radiating through the soles of your Vans
("my body wasn't made for this!").--small, but I would capitalize 'my'

Unchanging, you are, as the Florida fall:
making a season from scratch 
with spirit, with cider and cinnamon sticks,
avocado vomit from a jack-o-lantern mouth
your friend dressed up as her 'ideal self'
your ex and me in the same pumpkin T-shirt
(whoops).
Florida's fall
has little to do with Florida at all
And you pull it in close like a hug.--would cut this last line. also, some weird capitalization/punctuation going on these last few lines 

Unwavering as those few weeks
of still, wet, winter air--commas completely confuse me, what even 
biting down in spite of a sky that smiles blue,--beautiful 
happy to host this
traffic of touristing cardinals,--awkward couple of words
woodpeckers and northern pintails,
flocking to greet you like the old friends
who, too, roll in around this time.--I understand 'too' but am nonetheless flummoxed by its placement 

Unceasing as the spring and summer showers,
some torrential, blurring away 
what once seemed near--songlike, lovely 
but just for now,
rain-smacked mud puddles
splash themselves on the wet engine-heat
of cars who've learned to drive straight through this
half-blind, for a moment.
Or the cloudless kind,
sprinkles from nowhere,
God flicking Her wet hands from above;--Her? Unexpected. 
Where do these happy tears come from?

And where do you think you're going,
Florida girl?
Cupping in your hands a life
that pools up, is full, spills out again,
ever unchanging in the staleness and the newness
it brings you and then
lets seep away.--my favorite part of the poem is this first half of the last stanza. You have a touch for easy flow. 
My favorite in all this:
One of those soft Florida hands
left to drip-dry
reaches out 
for one of mine.