[stylist] Is It Heaven poem

Fri Jan 6 17:46:45 UTC 2012

If you wanted to be truly whimsical, you could say Timbuktu, I think its supposed to be warm there.

Shawn

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Barbara Hammel
Sent: Friday, January 06, 2012 12:37 PM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: Re: [stylist] Is It Heaven poem

Donna, my husband says it is pronounced "Thibodoo" and I couldn't come up 
with a better town at the time.  Honolulu, I think, would be a bit warmer 
any time of the year.  You saw the same lines I didn't like.
The last stanza was a sudden inspiration to fit in a few lines I'd been 
kicking around but couldn't figure out how to begin a writing with them. 
Yes, what I meant was that someone should pinch me so I'd know it really was 
this warm and not strong winds and a lot of snow like January should have.
Thank you for the suggestions.
Barbara

A man who wants to lead the orchestra must turn his back on the crowd. --  
Max Lucado
-----Original Message----- 
From: Donna Hill
Sent: Friday, January 06, 2012 10:43 AM
To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
Subject: Re: [stylist] Is It Heaven poem

Barbara,
This is very whimsical and timely, and if you aren't comfortable with it,
it's probably because you just wrote it. If you're going for a strictly
rhymed and metered poem, here are a few thoughts and suggestions.

First, in the line, "And the thermometer says sixty-two," I find Jaws
pronouncing the hyphen distracting from the meter, and my solution is to use
the numeric 62 instead. This can be justified, if justification is really
needed, by pointing to the fact that the thermometer probably has a digital
read-out using numbers not the words written out. Furthermore, and it would
take more of a techy to say for sure, but if you're getting an audio
read-out, the speech program is probably reading from the same numeric
display.

I don't know if Jaws is properly pronouncing "Thibodaux." If it is, the
rhyme isn't right -- two and oh. Perhaps you could find a different, more
widely recognized hot spot. Honolulu comes to mind, but would require some
fussing with the meter in that line.

In "Winter cannot stay like this," how about can't instead of cannot?

In the line, "There's not hint of winter time," I think the meaning would be
clearer and less archaic if you changed "not" to "no."

In terms of the stanza:
Block quote
Or is it Heaven, after all,
And did I not know, but did I die?
For this isn't winter in Iowa,
Not a flake of snow do I spy.
Block quote end
The second line is a bit long. Not quite sure what to do here.  In the third
line, try experimenting with something crisper like, "This can't be winter
in Iowa."
In:
Block quote
Or is it Heaven, after all,
Please pinch me so I'll know
There are nonexisting gale-force winds
And four feet of invisible snow.
Block quote end
Is the meaning that someone should pinch you so that you know that there
aren't winds that you aren't perceiving? I don't like the use of
"nonexisting" if this was your meaning.  Maybe some other adjective.
HTH,
Donna

---Original message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Barbara Hammel
Sent: Thursday, January 05, 2012 6:40 PM
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] Is It Heaven poem

IS IT HEAVEN?

It's January the fifth  today

And the thermometer says sixty-two,

Are you sure that I'm in Iowa

And not in Thibodaux?

Or is it Heaven, after all,

Not Iowa any more?

Winter cannot stay like this.

It will return with a roar.

It's January the fifth today

And shirt sleeves are the wear

There's not hint of winter time

Out in the sunny air.

Or is it Heaven, after all,

And did I not know, but did I die?

For this isn't winter in Iowa,

Not a flake of snow do I spy.

It's January the fifth today,

And my child thinks it pretty neat

That he can go outside and swing

In his coat and his bare feet.

Or is it Heaven, after all,

Please pinch me so I'll know

There are nonexisting gale-force winds

And four feet of invisible snow.

What can I change about this poem because it's really not very good.  It
seems too clunky or something.

Barbara

A man who wants to lead the orchestra must turn his back on the crowd. --
Max Lucado
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