[stylist] Is It Heaven poem

[Jacqueline Williams]

Barbara,
I am at least two poems behind in responding to you.
I did forward an article about how to Critique One's own poetry some time
ago. I don't know if you got it. There was no response as well as to about
four other posts. So I have cut way back on doing so. 
I will only make a few general comments because of lack of time, and the
ability to only listen.
I think you have the essence of a good rhymed poem for I love the content. I
also think you have some very good lines that you repeat regularly. This
leads to my question that would help in critiquing it. Is it meant to be a
pantoum, a villanelle, or an anaphora? This would help me to visualize it in
my mind and better understand the format. 
If it is not a traditional form such as any of these, that is not at all
necessary. The so called "clunky" feeling you have might come from not
having a metered poem. While it is primarily that, it is not consistent, so
that might be a place to start.
Also, your poems seem to come through with the format okay, other than
perhaps more spaces between the lines that I think you mean to leave. This
is far better than it being turned into free verse with undetermined line
length. I would be interested to know exactly how you send it. Is it a word
document that you copy and paste.?
Thanks for sharing your work.
Jackie

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Barbara Hammel
Sent: Thursday, January 05, 2012 4:40 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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