by Tondrika H.
This is a rewrite of the poem I wrote earlier in the semester.
My mother's image
I am the image of my mother.
A woman who’s wrists chafe
from the chains
of those before her.
A woman who’s eyes sting
from the remnants of
pepper spray and tears.
A woman who’s bible
served as her eye wash station,
and its words pulling
together her split heart.
I am my mother’s image.
My Response:
I want more because this is so rich with flexible and concrete images. I think that you should talk about the image of your mother, focusing on some of the mundane things that’s you see in her, or in what the mother represents. I would take a look back to Yusef Komunyakaa’s poem about his Vietnam experience and all the thanks he gave for the times his life was saved or a memorable experience This piece provides a very strong base but some expansion of the image of the mother would provide many dimensions to the work and provide the clearest image of your mother possible.
No comments:
Post a Comment