Cheerios - Shakespeare's Monkeys

Cheerios

Critique most cherished

Sticky little fingers grip my typing hand

growing little broken parenthesis webbing between fingers.

and the corners of his grin

hold verses between sugary brackets

half moon and full moon

stick to persistant pinky and pointer

rubbing an always cheery O where "My Nana" resides

"Hedicacas" and "Tractas" and "airpanes"

are verses voiced by a mouth that talks to angels

in words only they can understand.

What are they saying to him?

Excitement fills his eyes that can't be drawn away

from a spot just below the ceiling

in the corner of the room

where we adults see nothing.

Nothing there.

But angels come and visit him

dropping calling cards of "Daniel"

When he's pressed for who he's talking to...

What does it mean?

So for all the pats on the back

of a well turned phrase

or original imagistic lines

from any of the world's greatest writers

I'll gladly trade them all

for sticky little fingers gripping my typing hand.

Anstey -

First of all, the sentiment here is really very sweet. And the genuine love shines through. Whoever reads this and misses it misses the entire point and essence of this piece. For that alone it is well done.

However, as poetry goes, this requires a bit of work I think.

S1 - L3, I think you could cut the 'and' and add the intial cap since there's a period in the line before. I wonder if there might be another word you could use besides 'between' -- i don't see a reason for the echo of the fingers and the prackets

I'll come back to a few other things, but the part that i struggled with the most was the last stanza. This stanza is way too preachy. It seems like a blugeoning instrument after a fairly gentle soft pillowy piece. I think it'd be great if you could find a more natural approach to that point you're trying to make there.

-----

stephan

AmaNana -

Thanks Stephan. I was more than half asleep when I did this. I knew it was poorly done. My brain kept snoring while I was typing.

White_Feather -

As a woman in the thick of parenting small children, I'd rather take the well-turned phrase than another sticky hand ruining the keyboard. Thank God for grandmothers! I think the sentiment of the entire poem is lovely, and look forward to seeing how it evolves as you tighten it up. The angel speak is enticing.

AmaNana -

Oh, White Feather, you gave me a laugh! I remember! Days of just longing for an extended adult conversation. An actual, real, stimulating interaction. Lawd yes, I remember. Grandchildren are different, lol. By the time you have them, there is nothing on earth more precious. My kids were my life's plate of veggies and Logan is dessert! I'll post some other poems about these strange visitations I wrote and a thank you letter Megan wrote (with her permission), shortly. She called me at work crying (with joy and thanksgiving) the day she was trying to feed him and he wouldn't eat for talking to his angel. When she started telling me about it I went in my supervisor's office and put her on speaker. Wouldn't even look away to look at her no matter what distractions she tried. Glenda and I both had tears in our eyes as well. As the saying goes, fact is stranger than fiction.