Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Grateful for Glenda. (Thanks)

Submitted by wesley snow on Thu, 2015-11-05 13:40

The first we ever did was dance.
The studio was where we met.
The teacher: I, the student: her.
And Arthur Murray’s was the site

We danced an hour twice a week.
We danced for months until I left.
I’d drunk myself near unto death
and could no longer right remain.

I drank the last check from the shop
and knew the rent was due in days.
What did I care, my life was done
and then she came and took me home.

The struggle still remained in me.
It threatened to unravel us,
but somehow she was always there.
In rage and love despite disgust.

Upon a time when I’d returned,
for I was gone in stupor raw,
she told me what she’d tried to do.
She shut her mind away from me.

And then the words she said to me
were branded on my drunken thought:
“I cannot get you from my mind.”
It broke my heart that will not heal.

Psychiatrist and counselor
and drugs and drugs we struggle on.
I’m still a wreck, but with a love
that failsafe aids in all I do.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
This is only the second love song for my wife. It is hard to get feelings like that out on "paper" as I'm sure everyone knows. It is a structured western poem. It is written in iambic tetrameter with blank verse.
Editing stage: 
Editing - polished draft
Contest: 
THANKS

Comments

Rula

Fri, 2015-11-06 08:29

Rula's picture
Volunteer badge

that reflects much love - which is a merited one I'm sure.
Isn't this supposed to be an entry for Nov. contest?

I know this is a polished draft, but thought changing the 'she' to 'you' might give a more intimate touch to the poem. Just a thought, you know.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Please follow me on Instagram
https://instagram.com/poetry.jo?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

judyanne

Fri, 2015-11-06 08:12

judyanne's picture
Volunteer badge

And a great entry for the contest.
it is hard to write blank verse and keep the musicality with only the rhythm to work with, so, well done

Good luck in the contest
love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

ThEdges

Sat, 2015-11-07 20:22

ThEdges's picture

This is an amazing piece showing great love and devotion! You two are very lucky to have each other! Quite awesome!

Best always,
Laura

wesley snow

Sat, 2015-11-07 16:38

wesley snow's picture
Volunteer badge

It's one of those that wrote itself.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

author comment

ThEdges

Sun, 2015-11-08 02:31

ThEdges's picture

those are my favorite. ...I thought maybe this was one of them. ..it seemed to flow utterly effortlessly.

Best always,
Laura

Esker

Sat, 2015-11-07 13:41

Esker's picture

I saw many.....beautiful people submerged in addictions
I cared to know of their history
and heard it
youth going above and beyond in bravery
flew too close too the sun
right hand of god/s of man...whom were removed
what then but to wander....tailored only for that hand

I was always enamoured of the wrecking yards
the men had the most beautiful daughers
their wives gorgeous
the boys strong from the work and
knowledged of value in rarity and scrap value

dancing......wow....I missed all of that
the asthma...sports...my body never learned
how to move like my mind
why I stayed sober and loved the bars
and now...why I love my mountian bike
and shape...

today..saw this beautiful blonde..professional
and tall sending me ahead.
her girls were still foraging in the store
I dress well though I have like a dollar fifty
in my pockets...
So I gave her my grey eyes
she is magnificent
good posture....good with her girls
me...Im there buying my milk and sin
my escape....
ghost appeasement

they know me
the womens intuition
..
still it was so great
we were a foot apart
in passing

which is about what you are
in dancing
dancing is great
we took this in public school
and now with dancing with the
stars etc........
and or the youthful club scene
naughty as this is.....
its all grinding and sex in the
bathrooms
ha

too much for this old man

the struggle though.....
and how some can just love us
see through our faults
for a fault is just an uneven
balance
through great beauty

this poem says much..
not blaming
not stooping to self pity
or blame...telling it
like it is
honesty

thank U

wesley snow

Sat, 2015-11-07 16:40

wesley snow's picture
Volunteer badge

I'm blown away that you would take the time to check in on one of my poems, much less the discussion. Good to see you.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

author comment

Esker

Sat, 2015-11-07 20:13

Esker's picture

I keep tabs on all poets here....
I like U becase U are like the sandwhich board poet
throwing it out there..
and me..Im the schmoozer..
wait till dark to climb the fence and bring back expired
chips..ho ho.not very brave

I think U have a lot to say and are very brave
I look up too you a lot Westley!
U do good work here...

and your poems are sweoms...Im just busy
and have a hard time wiith personal
poems oft to say whatabout them

but Im working on it...

I see you as a neopoet bud!!

keep up the good work for our poet buds here...

thanx

wesley snow

Sun, 2015-11-08 14:35

wesley snow's picture
Volunteer badge

Thank you for the vote of confidence.

Now, go write a ballade like everybody else.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

author comment

wesley snow

Sun, 2015-11-08 14:36

wesley snow's picture
Volunteer badge

Thank you for the vote of confidence.

Now, go write a ballade like everybody else.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

author comment
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.