Grandma's House, in Winter

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https://www.poetry.com/poem/163658/grandma's-house,-in-winter

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  Vixility

  Please let us know when your photo poetry collection is released …

  LikeReply 11 year ago
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  Vixility

  I certainly agree with the above assessment: I was drawn frame by frame into the ambient environment of a cozy, inviting house during some remote December evening. Throughout, I felt like I was the narrator's guest as we entered her grandmother's house and slowly explored each room until we arrived at the heart of the house where a homemade dinner and love was waiting. "A tribute to a moment in time", the poem is a remarkable experience.
  
  Might I add (and it is just a coincidence that our poet resides in France), as I read through the poem I was reminded of the elaborate and beautiful writing of Joris-Karl Huysmans, especially as it relates to his novel, "A rebours". Well done! more »

  LikeReply 11 year ago
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    morganneering

    Wow, thank you so much for your kindness and interest in my work, it really means the world to me. Your insights are beautiful, and I am so happy that you have found meaning in these words. Feel free to follow me on Instagram at @mneering, I would be happy to support one another in our writing endeavors! more »

    LikeReply1 year ago
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  robertg.73901

  This is a poem where the old Joseph Conrad adage about the purpose of an art work being “above all to make you see,” readily applies here. It is a poem in five acts in which the tone and texture invite a reader (much like the addressee who is being invited in (perhaps a ‘passerbys’ (sic)) to take a guided tour of a house that has seen better days but whose owner, grandma, still offers an open-handed and open-hearted welcome.
  The poetic equivalent of a hand-held camera technique guides the observer’s eye on this winding tour of the house. There are signs of decay everywhere, from the old Xmas tree and cheap piano to the dog-eared paperbacks to the old fur coat and cheap jewelry, that have the effect of turning the once vibrant house into a place of suspended animation complete with the artifacts and memories of yesteryear.
  But the ‘warm’ kitchen, with the ‘warm’ meal simmering, is still the simmering heart of the house, where despite the empty rooms and tawdry jewelry, a certain grace still animates the place.
  Despite some idiosyncratic punctuation and the faux pas of the final word, the poem does its nostalgic and hopeful work excellently well. Its subtleties are to be savoured much like the stew, and even without a hunk of bread and a beer, chewed slowly and thoughtfully. more »

  LikeReply 21 year ago
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    morganneering

    Thank you so much for your kind words and insights, I loved experiencing the poem through your eyes!

    LikeReply1 year ago