Thread: Kites- (small amount of language)

Ok, I really need help with this one. Hopefully you guys have some ideas. Also, this one is decidedly less polished than others I've posted. What works, what doesn't. Criticism encouraged!

1.
Strips of gauze, catholic shoeprints, and loose change
compose the only oblique way
to confront the things that he says.

My shallow breath marbled
a pretense somewhere inside me.

I wanted to look around, see what happened,
he says. No one would let me move.
I’m surprised he’s talking
through that much morphine.
Something unhinges
abruptly.
A black man said he would pray for me,
he says.

She’s trying to talk through the tears,
and I’ll think later that she cried
for some platonic conception,
as definition of a forgotten word.

She says something, and I’m standing in my shoes.
I’m standing inside myself.
Then, we’re both in the bathroom,
brushing our teeth. She’s looking at me,
and I won’t look in the mirror.

I untie and tie my shoes.
Deliberately.

Exposed fiberglass,
full-bodied patches of chalky white
on the obsidian helmet.
Parts of his phone
and his pocket notebook
shuffle against the padded crown.

I can’t imagine the physics,
the torsion required to tear
your pockets inside out.

Strangers approach
the way they would a monument,
glassy eyed with blood pooling in their heads.
They carry the pieces of who he is
and stand to look down at him.

Someone passes the helmet around,
and the pieces come together.

I wish I had died, he says.
His eyes make sharp turns
as he tries to look at me
remaining in his neckbrace,
The stuff they have me hooked on
is really fucking good.

2.
Branches of lightning
cobble something across the sky.

A small path without the budget
for completion, a part of the city
allowed a slice of night.

Breathing coals of radiotowers
and a few stray sparks
are the only thing that makes this real.

The motion and endorphins
carve the trees and houses into outlines.

Sometimes you ride away from the lightning
just to ride into it again.

3.
I had a dream set in a dining room
where the patient sky burst
into a trunk of tangled flames.

I realized I was with a woman,
and I pulled her to the floor
as the windows bowed and blew
over our heads.

It’s only a matter of seconds
before the concussion pushes us,
together with the debris,
through the halls of the house.

And I knew the gamma rays
were tearing through us
like branches through a kite.

I will not even pretend that I could critique this poem. This poem reminds of a Sylvia Plath (one of my favorite poets), it is deep, and carries the same tone, and keeps the readers attention. I am not skilled enough in the art of writing poetry to know if anything needs fine-tuning. To me this is an excellent poem. J

much appreciated.

would this have more potency if it was three separate poems?

that is a thought....try it and see....

Hey Loki, sorry I took so long. Okay, definitely separate them, each can stand on its own, and proudly, I might add. Aside from the mention of branches in 2 and 3 and the devastation in 1 and 3, there's no commonality so as a single piece, they do not gel.

I'll start with 1. That first line is some draw, good show with that and the piece as a whole is very good, but it's a bit confusing. Initially I thought the poor chap was in hospital, mostly because of that first line, gauze and Catholic (need a cap there) shoe prints, but later on it seems he may still be outside on the road. Initially I the shoe prints belonged to a nurse, then I thought maybe a priest at the accident site, probably wrong on both counts but worth mentioning in my eyes. I'm assuming it's a motorcycle accident because of the helmet. The intro of the lady confused the hell out of me because of the teeth brushing, which I thought might be you zoning out in the face of devastation. Who is she, exactly? A witness, I think. That part needs a bit of work. Description of the helmet and the bits and pieces within, is excellent, as is the onlookers and monument and the shoe tying, which to me seemed to indicate nervousness. My only other nit is in the final stanza, "hooked on", if he's in hospital it's fine, if still in the street, they've just begun administering the morphine so he isn't hooked yet, hooked up to would work better in that case. Sorry for being such a pain and asking so much, I just may be clueless and others see this crystal clear.

Onto 2, which I loved, I could see it clearly, the mention of endorphins indicates either a jogger or someone running, perhaps out of fear. I was hurrying along with he/she. I absolutely adore that last line. Only nit was I had a hard time envisioning "Breathing coals of radio towers", but that is my fault, not yours.

And 3, which is also well wrought. Your imagery is fantastic, couldn't help thinking of the opening scene of Terminator 2, and that last stanza is simply to die for, kudos. "Tearing through us like branches through a kite", what a freaking awesome line.

So there's my two cents, hope I've been of some assistance. Fine work, love, fine work, indeed.

Best,
Lisa

Catholic is an adjective: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/catholic
It's a stretch, but that's what poetry allows. The only reason I correct you is that you might want to use it later yourself.

The narrative needs constancy, and you're picking up where it's lacking.

The reason I included them together is they concern the same subject. As a reader, I'm sure that impression is oblique at best. However, I think it can work if the reader feels like they're in capable, guiding hands. I guess what I'm driving at is do you feel there's a constancy that you're simply not picking up, or do you think the three sections feel forced together?

Sorry to harp, I just really have to polish this up, and lord knows, it needs polishing.

Now that I've finished wiping the egg from my face, you got me with that one, and that's not an easy feat, my friend. I've never encountered catholic used in that way, yeah, I know, I should really move from beneath the rock. Being a Catholic girl didn't help any either. I've added it to my coffer, thanks for teaching me something new.

As for the connection, I distinctly felt an underlying current of similarity but it was too faint for me to grasp. But I am only one person, and one whose interpretational skills are not her forte. As I said in my initial reply, others may be more astute than I. Perhaps you would consider adding a hint in one of the three sections, or adding a brief fourth with a more concrete tie. I knew it was there, and believe me when I tell you I studied the piece for quite a bit trying to make the connection. In the end, all I got was frustrated. Now, Loki, love, be a dear and tell me what it is, via PM if you'd rather not say so here. And thanks again for catholic, my kids are going to love you. They're always throwing words at me for definition and they are always gleeful when they toss one out I don't know. They're going to get a kick out of this.

Best,
Lisa