Thread: The Match

The Match

The match sputtered to life with a smell of burning sulphur.
It has come to this she knew, had known for years.
The beatings, the abuse, hiding her shame even more
than the black eyes, the bruises, the broken ribs. But
now it was done, the bed was made and he slept in it
as the gasoline was poured. Only one thing left to do
she dropped the match at her feet and the explosive
whoosh of flame engulfed her. “There,” she said.


Kenny A. Chaffin - 1/20/2012

My this is a dark one, I especially like the play on words with the title, a sad match indeed.

Yes, Sorry for the Darkness

Darkness is a part of life too. I enjoyed it, no matter.

I like this. The idea is, of course, powerful. I too, clicked the poem thinking it would be about a pair of people, but the trick there was really crafty. I enjoyed the wit in your other poem (about the cats I believe), but couldn't relate. This is more flesh, if I'm allowed to make up my own words lol. I think it could use some secrecy though. I don't often advice people to rewrite their work (unless it needs it) but if you frequently write about darker subjects (or even if you don't) a little hidden meaning gives the reader a very real treasure to dig for in your work. Or at least I think so ^_^

she dropped the match at her feet and the explosive
whoosh of flame engulfed her.

So wait, she burned herself?

Yes. Self-immolation.

Nicely done, but a couple of problems. It needs a better the title as it is also the first two words of the poem, which weakens the first line, which is already weakened by its order:

The match sputtered to life with a smell of burning sulphur.

Perhaps:

With a smell of burning sulphur, the match sputtered to life.

A couple of technicalities, the first beloved of all who watch fictional people start fires with gasoline/petrol - Petrol vapour is an explosive several times more powerful than gunpowder and would blow as soon as the match was struck; none of the filmic standing in the door with a lighted Zippo and casually tossing it into the room, you'd be blown out backwards with 3rd degree burns!

The second, as she has self-immolated, is how do we know what she was thinking - You have taken the omniscient point of view, which can be troublesome in a poem. If you are an observer of the incident, observe, don't interpret, don't editorialise - I think it only needs a small adjustment in perspective to sort this out and make an even more powerful poem.

Thanks for your input.

I'll just respond by saying This was not an article on self-immolation, it's a poem.

but yes thank you for your comments.