In my mind's eye,
hills breathe
lofty sentiments with their
celery skin:
volcanic bumps of burning green
locking lips with erstwhile travelers.
The sun genuflects at the sight of
friends writing homage to their
past, spilling
red rain onto their faces.

Words
echo to the art
of strolling feet:
unfilled vases, cameos,
inside jokes,
carry weight in the form of jargon.
A gentle breeze sighing,
promising to be
a vestige besting nature fairly.

I circle nature with memories
molded by kinship itself,
cleaving onto the hills
With its velvet-stubbed heart.
memories softly welding
human touch
out of wind:
a hill scattered with sun showers,
pools of yesterday pinching grass fibers.

In my mind's eye, hills breathe
love with their celery skin:
volcanic bumps of burning green
locking lips with erstwhile travelers.
Sun genuflects at the sight of
friends writing homage to their
past, spilling
red rain onto
their faces.

Greetings about
unfilled vases, cameos,
inside jokes,
carry weight with jargon.
A gentle breeze sighing,
promising to be
vestige of sharing.

My mind's eye draws nature
with kinship itself
clinging onto the hills
with love struck words.
Memories softly weld
human touch
out of wind,
delicacy woven into
afternoon debris:

Faces dabbed in sun showers,
yesterdays caressing grass fibers.

I like this, the longer lines flow really well. I especially love "celery skin", I'm glad you kept it in the second draft. I don't understand the"jargon"bit though... Good start, I look forward to more!

kylebank wrote:

I like this, the longer lines flow really well. I especially love "celery skin", I'm glad you kept it in the second draft. I don't understand the"jargon"bit though... Good start, I look forward to more!

I'll change the "jargon" bit. Maybe I'm misunderstanding the definition of the word "jargon." Perhaps I can think of another "word-related word" that would fit more appropriately. I don't know what to change after that, and I've just started.

How else should I fix this?

......

...

In my mind's eye,
hills have celery skin,
volcanic bumps of green
locking lips with erstwhile friends.
Sun genuflects before them
writing homage to their
past, red rain patting
their figures as they speak.

Greetings about past days
clogged with gardening;
excitement laughing loudly
at their young piano hands.
A gentle breeze sings
a youthful cadence
caressing grass valves
soaked in lukewarm dew.

My mind's eye draws
kinship clinging onto
hills, love struck words
filling chocolate skies.
Memories reconcile
into my skull and say:
friendship is the song
welding the Earth.

"friendship is the song welding the earth" - amazing. keep that!

I really like what you did with the first stanza here. By eliminating the hills breathing love and lofty sentiment, it becomes a clearer image - I just see the hills now, and I don't have wonder why or how they are breathing lofty sentiment. In fact, you've cleaned up a lot of those parts - no more vestiges or jargon. Those words just got in the way for me, of what you are trying to show, and this version seems to present a clearer vision.

Keep going!

kylebank wrote:

"friendship is the song welding the earth" - amazing. keep that! I really like what you did with the first stanza here. By eliminating the hills breathing love and lofty sentiment, it becomes a clearer image - I just see the hills now, and I don't have wonder why or how they are breathing lofty sentiment. In fact, you've cleaned up a lot of those parts - no more vestiges or jargon. Those words just got in the way for me, of what you are trying to show, and this version seems to present a clearer vision. Keep going!

Yes, "vestige" and "jargon" got in the way for me, too. Thank you a lot for your help! I added the word "the" before "earth." Do you believe I should keep the word "erstwhile" or do you think it makes the sentence sound odd?

On the below post, does "breaths seep through palladium heights"make sense, or do you think it should be something along the line of "breaths sore" or even "voices?" To me, this makes sense, but I am not sure for anyone else.

In my mind's eye,
hills have celery skin,
volcanic bumps of green
that archaic friends tread.
Sun bows before their
homage to the past,
red rain patting their
faces as they speak.

Past vows lit anew:
erstwhile days of
drawing rings in the soil,
finding animal clouds.
Breaths seep through
palladium heights,
grass petals soaked
in lukewarm dew.

My mind's eye digs
into the pores of hill
as love-struck words
fill chocolate skies.
Memories reconcile
into my skull and say:
friendship is the song
welding the Earth.

I like "voices" rather than breaths. When you say "seeped through" it gives me a sense of falling, coming down. When if you say "soar" or something along that line (fly, ascend, scale) it gives the impression of going upwards, which fits in better with what you are doing.

I love where your second stanza is right now - drawing circles and cloud searching is such a rich childhood activity!

What about in the first stanza where you say "archaic friends". Do you mean "old friends"? To me, and others may disagree, archaic means old fashioned, out of use, not relevant anymore. Not just old, but out of date and useless - which may be what you mean to say? I see them as old friends, shared childhood, a loving memory....

Keep going!

In my mind's eye,
hills have celery skin,
volcanic bumps of green
that old friends tread.
Sun bows before their
homage to the past,
red rain patting their
faces as they speak.

Past vows lit anew:
erstwhile days of
drawing rings in the soil,
finding animal clouds.
Voices soar through
Styrofoam heights,
grass petals soaked
in lukewarm dew.

My mind's eye digs
into the pores of hill
as love-struck words
fill chocolate skies.
Memories seep through
my skull and say:
friendship is the song
welding the Earth.

Okay. Thanks. What else do you think I should fix? I'm trying to make this as sound as possible.

It is marvellous to see the poetic process here. the work between you and kyle is exactly how things ought to proceed on forums. Great job.
One thing: "palladium heights?"

gailw wrote:

It is marvellous to see the poetic process here. the work between you and kyle is exactly how things ought to proceed on forums. Great job. One thing: "palladium heights?"

Thanks! I appreciate it! I used 'palladium' because I thought it was white...I changed it to something more known...Styrofoam...does this make more sense? The term "heights" in this poem means the clouds or the horizon. I am trying to put a whiteness above the hills.

In my mind's eye,
hills have celery skin,
volcanic bumps of green
that old friends tread.
Sun bows before their
homage to the past,
red rain patting their
backs as they speak.

Past vows lit anew:
erstwhile days of
drawing rings in the soil,
finding animal clouds.
Voices soar through
Styrofoam heights,
grass tails soaked
in lukewarm dew.

My mind's eye digs
into the pores of hill
as love-struck words
fill chocolate skies.
Memories seep through
my skull and say:
friendship is the song
welding the Earth.

I changed "palladium" to "Styrofoam", because, to me, it invokes a whiter image; I changed "faces" to "backs," because it would seem more evident that the sun would be on the person's "back" from the outsider's perspective; and I looked up "grass petals" and images of petals on the grass were shown--white flower petals and such, so I changed "grass petals" to "grass tails."

With that said and done, I wonder if "grass tails" or whatever should be "grass stems", "grass heads", or "grass" in general. I am trying to read the poem as I am living in another person's head. Living in another person's head, I might see "Styrofoam heights" as alabaster clouds or a very unusual horizon.

I don't know if I like the lines "my mind's eye digs / into the pores of hill." To me, it reads very awkwardly, like there is a fungus growing outside of the hills or something. Do you get a neutral image of a hill when reading this, like the outsider is envisioning a regular green hill (that looks like celery skin), or do you see a lot of weird holes or fungus-like designs growing out of them?

In my mind's eye,
hills have celery skin,
emerald slopes
that old friends tread.
Sun bows before
their greeting feet,
rays patting their
backs as they speak.

Vows spark again:
days of drawing
rings in the soil,
mammal clouds.
Voices touch
cotton heights,
grass tails soaked
in lukewarm dew.

In my mind's eye,
love-struck words
are prisms drenched
in dragon wings.
A soft-spoken day
speaks a wise verse:
friendship is the song
welding the Earth.

I like the final edit. It was fun watching this evolve. Kyle gave great suggestions.

agreed^^ the final edit is great.