EDIT IS LOWER IN THREAD
Haven't written in awhile. Thoughts?
_________________________________
What I am Become
EDIT IS LOWER IN THREAD
Haven't written in awhile. Thoughts?
_________________________________
What I am Become
Last edited by Squalid Glass; 02-23-2012 at 01:34 AM.
Poets are always taking the weather so personally. They're always sticking their emotions in things that have no emotions.
Check out my new blog, complete with new poetry! - http://www.writingforums.com/blogs/squalid-glass/
Absolutely love this, SG. Am pressed for time, but will return with what I liked, you've some fabulous phrases here. Can't say I disliked a darn thing. Extremely well done, love, you saw this piece through more than admirably.
Best,
Me
I've printed it in order to better consider it.
A man in possession of a wooden spoon must be in want of a pot to stir.
I have considered and both like it and find it too wordy in parts, and unneccessarily obscure in others so, like it or not, here it comes.....
There is change, not naturally produced
by the trapped molecules in this room,
nor by the short distance between me
and your bare shoulders. --------------------They are either bare or they are not, my granny, were she alive, would be bare beneath 10 layers of armour
The change is a calculation – ---------------------- All calculations are by nature artificial
manufactured by the equation of things. --------- Nothing manufactured is inate, we don't need telling.
It is the tiny desire of now which rises --------- These two lines mean nothing to me
from infantile notions to matured manifestation - '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' '' ''
as if it were a balloon sucking at the nipple of an air pump. --- Redundant
It is not you I want, with your dried grass-in-fall hair,
your cornfield skin and your cloudless afternoon eyes,
but you are what is near.
Your khakis, loose and ?, -------------------------- They are Khaki (a yellowish brown colour) or grey, they can't be both, perhaps creased, scuffed, torn...
are more real to me than her black tights,
her desire to push desire away.
Your miniscule roads
trump and shadow the curved highway of her hips --- These two lines sound contrived, though the shadowed highway of her hips sounds good.
because you are here.
I am at the point where things begin to matter.
Time,
like this desire, is eating at my organs and bones.
The only steps left to take are forward.
The freckled face of that girl who is not here
is not an option for me. You are now – all else was then.
Last edited by Bloggsworth; 12-21-2011 at 05:18 PM.
A man in possession of a wooden spoon must be in want of a pot to stir.
I know I riddled this piece with nits, but that doesn't mean you don't have something really good here (you do). Just tighten up the wording, smooth out the rough spots, and get rid of every unnecessary word possible.There is change in my heart not naturally produced
by the trapped molecules of this room
or by the short distance between my study seat
and your bare shoulders, beneath in a black tank top.
This change is an artificial calculation –
manufactured by the equation of things not innate. A bit wordy.
It is the tiny desire of now which rises
from infantile notions to matured manifestation You may not need this line. I'm on the fence with that one.
as if it were a balloon sucking at the nipple of an air pump. This is a bit much.
It is not you I want, with your dried, grass-in-fall hair.
It is not your cornfield skin or your cloudless afternoon eyes These lines aren't really strong enough to merit their own stanza. I think just one description of the girl - the best one - is enough. Then, attach these lines to the stanza below.
but you are what is near me
now. Your khakis, loose and gray Maybe you meant, "grayed," or, perhaps you meant "cargo pants" which are often called khakis regardless of color. Still, in poetry, it's best to be precise.
are more real to me at this moment than her black tights,
her tight purple-patterned blouse, and her desire to push desire away. I LOVE this line. (The additional "tight" was just a random thought.)
Your miniscule roads My guess is, Ms. Right-Here-Right-Now isn't the curviest gal on the block? Yes? Still, this is an odd way of describing it.
trump and shadow the curved highway of her hips
because you are here. Again, no reason to set this line off by itself.
So what shall should I do in this clammy room?
Do I dare unwrap you like a Christmas present,
with all the glee and material yearning of a ten year old child?
Does my desire bleed with egotistical, manner-ridden vile? I like the sound of this line, but it doesn't fit with the rest of the poem. My suggestion is, stow it away for use in a more surreal piece.
I am at the point where things are beginning to matter. Nice.
Time, like this desire, is eating eats at my organs and bones. Also nice.
The only steps I have left to take are forward.
The freckled-face of that girl who is not here
is not an option for me.
You are here, you are now – all else is forgotten.
Hope some of that helps. Thanks for sharing.
Last edited by Bachelorette; 12-21-2011 at 11:50 PM. Reason: added a comma~
Take a writer away from his typewriter and all you have left is the sickness which started him typing in the beginning. - Charles Bukowski
Some excellent suggestions, friends. I was worried that I was getting wordy. I wanted to play with long lines, but economization is always a great suggestion.
Here is my edit.
What I am Become
Last edited by Squalid Glass; 02-23-2012 at 01:34 AM.
Poets are always taking the weather so personally. They're always sticking their emotions in things that have no emotions.
Check out my new blog, complete with new poetry! - http://www.writingforums.com/blogs/squalid-glass/
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