Poetry / Memory's Birth

What a powerful first memory! Solid writing, imagery, diction, structure. I could really get inside the narrator’s point of view. Powerful stuff. I was unsure at first of whether the grandfather was a sympathetic character because of the second stanza, compared with the others. Of course, even if your grandfather is a mean old man, it’s hard to keep your emotions untangled in regards to him.

It came together at the end nicely. The quote is powerful. Pinch, Twist and Fire, I think you are refering to that pain when you get your arm jerked and there’s that burning? I don’t like that last 3 lines. I’m not sure why, is it anticlimatic, is it too abrstract for such a texture piece, I’m not sure it just seems out of place. But on the whole I realy like what you done here, those who can relate can probably put a face on it.

Nice simile ”...like a steel and rubber leech…”

I’m sure neurologists have some explanations as to why pain reinforces longterm memory-maybe evolutionary in that it increases survival to have memory of pain reinforced?

What I especially like about this poem is that the vivid description is like a commentary on the ultimate point: memory was indeed born in pain as the poem is born in specifics of description…

One other thing: I’m not sure the adjective “viscous” is right for a description of scrambled eggs; they don’t really flow enough to have the sense of a viscosity…

Overall, a good, evocative job

I am left with the overwhelming sense that this is what poetry should be. A snapshot of a single moment in time, combining image with emotion in both the singular and universal sense. One suggestion – I wasn’t quite sure what was going on during the actual moment of the pinch. I think it was the word “Fire”, it made me think guns or shooting or something and it threw me for a second. But man, this is pretty much gold.

I though that this was absolutly excellent! The imagery that you use to express the surroundings in the first few paragraphs are simply amazing- it was as if i could almost see the steam emerging from the eggs! I loved the complexity as well that you added- you took a relatively complex topic and ou didn’t try to simplify it; more often than not, dumbing down poetry just makes it bad to read. I did not at all expect the ending, and the slight shock of what happened was entirely enjoyable. I loved this poem- kudos! And thank you for the beautiful art.

Very clear, very potent.  I could feel the awe, the pain, and the hurt of experiencing deception and pain from someone who should have cared.  Made me cringe and cry at the same time.  Good emotion.

I love this. The story told maintained itself throughout the piece. You did a marvelous job of taking us frame by frame and bringing the story to completion. I know its a poem but poems are microcosim of a bigger story. Well done.

As I understand it, this is the narrator’s first memory?  I like this very much.  One thing I think would improve it is to make sure the grammar and punctuation are up to par if you want this published.  As it is, the over-abundance of commas is disconcerting.  Other than that, you have done quite well.  The second stanza really adds depth to this by contrasting the memory with the present reality.  This is not too sentimental, not too nostalgic, but very evenly presented.  Well done!

Wow. Can’t say all of us have our memories start out like that. That was pretty friggen awesome. The vivid imagery made it seem like I was there, seeing things as you did. That was incredibly cool. Thanks, and once again, Wow.

Very nice language, imagery, verse structure, evocative language, etc.   I just loved the first two thirds or so and I also liked the rest BUT it seemed to me that there were maybe two different poems here.  I suppose you want the arresting moment when all that wonderful morning innocence is flattened into pain and the birth of memory, but IMHO, there’s a complete Birth of Memory poem in the first 3 or 3 1/2 verses (ending with READY TO CLIMB DOWN…and remember the world before me).  Those first 3 verses are just top notch – they are the birth of memory – a complete precise and beautiful poem.  The remaining verses are the birth of a different kind of memory, the kind that lingers, the kind that picks a person up (at whatever age) and puts them on a path with a particular direction.   It’s your poem, so WTFAI (who/the/fuck/am/I) to tell you there’s two poems here, but that is my very strong impression.