I started off writing about my experience making cooter soup when I made a realization. I realized that the reason I found cooter soup so interesting in the first place was because of my deeply rooted Southern heritage. In particular my mother and the deep southern roots that run through her blood. Then I took it a little farther and began thinking that if The South ran through her blood then it ran just as strong through mine maybe even stronger. With my family living in the low country of Georgia, and the bayou's of Louisiana, my blood is as southern as it can get. My mother has always been a prevalent figure in my life and through the years people have always told me that I am the mirror image of her. It wasn't until recently that I realized that it was true, the more I age, the more I become more like her. It shows in my mannerisms, my passions, and my attitude towards life. It is because of these revelations that I wrote the following poem.
The Image of My Mother
I am the image of my mother.
A woman built
from the rubble of oppression.
A woman shaped
by the erosion of tough times.
A woman who’s edges were smoothed
by the finesse of love.
I am my mother’s image.
Great entry Drika!
ReplyDeleteTwo great features:
Your attempt to write about a specific person and relationship is great, because gives you a lot of material to cull from.
The bold statement - "I am the image of my mother" - is amazing and grabs hold of my (any reader's) attention immediately. It spurs me to read on.
Point of improvement:
Specificity. This piece is rather abstract. What parts of your mother image is "shaped" by "tough times"? Perhaps her palms are rough like my mother’s hands. How exactly are you similar to your mother? Try looking in a mirror, and describing every feature that is in your "mother’s image". More detail will make the piece more captivating, and allow you to "discover" the generated subject without trying to.
I liked this poem's imagery, specially how "rubble of oppression" sounded and felt. Perhaps you could expand a bit more on her experience in life, a few more lines on hardship, or perhaps one more on good things to balance it out (two negative images, such as rubble and erosion, and two positive ones, love and... ?).
ReplyDeleteI think "by the finesse of love" could use some more vivid imagery, instead of such an explicit statement--was it a child's love? Then perhaps their tiny, warm hand grasping hers. A husband's? His arms around her. A family's? Their smiles on a sunday evening's dinner.
Just some ideas, although I like the poem a lot where it is.
We talk a lot in class about the importance of avoiding the overt statement. How do you "imply" or "show" this "Southern heritage" running through your blood? And how do you allow your imagination the freedom to create the images without the "message-first" paradigm sneaking in?
ReplyDeleteTry this for me: forget for a moment the grand statements ("rubble of oppression," "finesse of love") and concentrate on rendering the actual scene of your mother cooking cooter soup. Just describe it to us. I still see many you wanting to leap to the "big idea."