Thread: Lost in the Amazon

Trudging along the Amazon,
a hot, humid rain pours.
Supplies are gone, I'm covered
in insect bites, stings, some
of them infected...


Got to keep going


Haven't had a decent meal in days,
and even that was some roots and
some kind of beetle dung I can't
remember. My mind is foggy,
my vision is blurred...


Got to keep going


Snakes at every step, wading in the
swamp. The chattering of monkeys,
the buzz of mosquitoes, piranhas
lurking, electric eels, wasps,
flies, toads. I am not alone.


Got to keep going


My feet are wet, my groin is chafed,
my hands are full of splinters. What
was I thinking? What brought me here?
Where am I? Anxiety fills my head,
Am I am losing this battle?


I succumb to the numbness, my legs can
no longer move. I feel the ants walk
over me, biting, stinging, time has
stopped. I am slowly losing my senses.


The rain continues to pour, hope is lost.
Although the climate is hot, I feel
strangely cold... shaking, shivering,
into darkness I go.

I really like the detail in this, but it sounds more like a story to me than a poem. I'm not sure why... I guess there's no room for different interpretations?

Hmm, I think there's nothing wrong with a poem having a linear progression along a time line, but I could have done this as a reflective poem, also, either as the character lie there dying, or looking down from above.

I'd be interested in seeing other comments, as you do bring up a valid point. Thanks for your reply.

JRB

Hi, JRB--

I like quite a bit of this piece:


Haven't had a decent meal in days,
and even that was some roots and
some kind of beetle dung I can't
remember.

Given the extremity in the poem, the speaker resists the impulse to flee (as "I succumb to numbness" evinces later on). In the above stanza, he resists through a stoic endurance of the disgust and horror.

The chattering of monkeys,
the buzz of mosquitoes, piranhas
lurking, electric eels, wasps,
flies, toads.

These vigorous nouns and adjectives-- "chattering", "buzz", "electric"-- have the effect of humanizing the whole environment and thus underscore the speaker's vulnerability and confusion.

As for suggestions, I'd consider scraping or replacing the following phrases and passages:

1) What
was I thinking? What brought me here?
Where am I? Anxiety fills my head,
Am I am losing this battle?

I find the above quite generic and devoid of any sensory power. Compare the above with "My feet are wet, my groin is chafed, my hands are full of splinters". The latter is so visceral, so immediately disturbing because of the images/imagery-oriented phrases you've used.

2) ... I succumb to the numbness
... I am slowly losing my senses.

I don't have as much of an issue with this second bit I've cited as I do with the 1st bit-- after all, "succumb to numbness" has very pleasing sounds: succumb, numbness-- but I know you can do better. I know you can do better because you've written "my hands are full of splinters", "my groin is chafed", roots... and beetle dung", and all of these phrases contain effective imagery.

3) "hope is lost"
You DEFINITELY can do better. I suggest you nix "hope is lost" and leave it implied for the reader through the images that precede it, namely " I feel the ants walk
over me, biting, stinging"

These are, of course, only my opinions-- only impressions of what I responded positively to and of what I felt could be bettered. It's your poem, so you are free to ignore them.

One more thing:

Trudging along the Amazon,
a hot, humid rain pours.

"Trudging" is a participle. Participles are adjectives derived from verbs, and they can only modify the noun that indicates the performer of the action. Therefore, "trudging along the Amazon" must modify the one who trudges-- in this case the speaker in the poem. Otherwise, it reads as if the "rain" is "trudging along". So: Trudging along, I [insert verb]

Thanks for sharing. I quite liked this one.

I am amazed and thankful for the great detail in which you dissected my poem. My intent was to use imperfect sentences to illustrate the despair as seen through the eyes of the main character.

The opening stanza is slightly ambiguous I'll admit, but I wanted to set the stage that we are dealing with someone who is borderline incoherent. The detail in the surroundings is due to the fact that this person has been dealing with these things over and over, being painfully aware of every last detail.

I do love the 'leaving out the all hope is lost' idea. I like the idea of painting a picture that plants a seed in the reader's mind. Yet the task the author has in doing so, is to give enough clues to avoid being too ambiguous or all is for naught.

Why did I choose to write this? I have been battling a bad cold for over a week now, and I am sick of being sick, so to speak. It was easy to identify with the main character.

As for succumbing to the numbness, I am thrilled you unearthed that little gem. It tingled my spine when those words came to me. I am glad you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Many thanks.

JRB

Oh wow. Your poem sounds so incredibly real. Personal experience, living in the Amazon myself, says to me that you've actually experienced the whole combination of things--in the right order; wasps, mosquitoes, fear of piranha and electric eels. It's almost nostalgic to myself, living with my parents in a hostel. Kudos for the sensory experience--from what I hear--how it is to be lost in the Amazon. I knew two people who got lost and described their experience wiith the same sensations. For one, I think the foggy feeling, feeling depressed, is to the point. I like how you used ellipses on the first stanza to emphasize the hazy vision and blurry mind. Nice job!

I think the piece has a good premise, but for me it actually lacked that ambiance that suggests the character is really in the Amazon Basin. I find the descriptions quite rushed and not so personal. I suggest putting a much stronger focus on the elements that really bring you down - insects, humidity, the unknown, exhaustion, isolation and fear, rather than going through such an abundance of things that ultimately are but a cliche to a tropical setting.
I'd also prefer even more clear imagery of some places there, using visuals and sounds to convey the ambiance. You do have such devices, though I find them very rushed. Maybe describing more concretely just one day and night in such a hardcore tropical nature, would be a more felt departure to serve a poem of this character.

Originally Posted by ike3422

Oh wow. Your poem sounds so incredibly real. Personal experience, living in the Amazon myself, says to me that you've actually experienced the whole combination of things--in the right order; wasps, mosquitoes, fear of piranha and electric eels.

I've lived in tropical areas, although I must admit I haven't ever been to the Amazon basin itself. I'm not sure I would want to go, only because I'm the kind of person who attracts mosquitoes like a chocolate cake attracts fat kids. I counted 93 mosquito bites on my body once, and it's something I don't wish to repeat. I really appreciate your experience, and it makes me proud that I can evoke this kind of emotion. It's the highest compliment anyone could receive, and I want to thank you for that. I look forward to seeing some of your stuff on here, Ike.

Thanks!!!
JRB

Originally Posted by Martin

for me it actually lacked that ambiance that suggests the character is really in the Amazon Basin. I find the descriptions quite rushed and not so personal.

I agree. If they don't make mention of the play, we really don't know that Lincoln was actually shot at Ford's Theater. It could have been ANY theater, right?

Ultimately, this isn't a National Geographic story. It's more of an internal look at someone's experience mentally. More of a struggle with their own existence. For example, if someone were dying in a remote forest of sub-zero temperatures, I wouldn't expect them to describe the majestic Northern Spotted Owl and their nesting habits in the blue pines.

Another good example would be someone stuck in traffic. It's not the overturned truck on fire or the number of crashed cars they are concerned with, particularly if they're already on probation for arriving to work late, fighting with their spouse, and they're two payments behind on their mortgage. If you really want to get picky about it, if I'm waiting a half hour in traffic, the accident damn well better be worth the wait.

As for rushed, his energy is concentrated on survival. There's not much room for words describing the rainforest as much as his own agonized existence. Even then, what little energy he has will be used to make whatever progress he can. By separating the stanzas, I hoped to add a pause in between thoughts so as not to appear rushed. Perhaps as the reader you were rushing to get through it?

thanks,
JRB

I loved the detail in this JR, you set the scene very vividly. It does read a bit prosaically, which may lend to Damien's comment about it seeming more like a story, but that is certainly no deal breaker. Grain of salt, I often take the slightly prosaic route myself, lol. What I found really fabulous was your choice of line breaks which do the "fogginess" fantastic justice. Well done, love. I look forward to reading more of your work.

Best,
Lisa

Thanks Lisa, I really appreciate the feedback.

I am wondering about the "story feel", and whether that is approved, accepted, or simply tolerated in the world of poetry. On the one hand, I agree this crosses into short story or essay territory, but the form is more poetic. Ultimately, I classified it as a poem since there was no real character development, or identifiable climax. I suppose the protagonist was the main character (unless you were cheering for the mosquitoes and snakes).

JRB

Personally, I don't really like the way this poem flows, but that might just be me. What I do like is the story. I think it would give the poem a more personal feel if you added some personification."Thieves of the night, bold warrior by day, fighting my skin. Ambition of blood brings all of them. Mosquitoes, those..." If you added imagery that really made connections that pulled the reader close, it would add texture. Who are the mosquitoes? What purpose do they serve. You could even pull out a more symbolic meaning. I love the story.

That's an excellent point, Isaiah. Tying the creatures in together, personifying them. I hadn't thought of that. Although it would be a completely different type of poem, one of beauty yet with danger lurking everywhere. I'm going to have to use that idea!!

My point was not that you should have concrete references to the Amazon. It was just that this poem to me didn't really take me there. Anyone could think of those references you have, there's nothing radically interesting in there suggesting a 'dying of a tropical nature' experience. Leading to the point of the poem being rushed, I merely think you'll better capture the true and terrible desperation one must feel, if you slow down and introduce us to an actual setting and some actual moments passing, rather than a list of what seems to me to be somewhat romanticized notions of a tropical place.

Should I mention I've been in the Amazon some years ago, only visiting while living in Venezuela, and this very moment I'm actually living in a tropical part of Brazil. I could also continue your list of references, like the flashing electric sky without thunder, river dolphins briefly surfacing for air, alligators, the red earth contrasting the lush green, the muddy water, those incredibly noisy and kinda howling insects (your buzz of mosquitoes is nothing compared to these), fire flies caught in spiders' webs, the very dark nights with very bright stars (sun on the other side of the planet right) and many many more.
Then I'd actually also correct some of your lines: "snakes at every step" is just not true. Snakes generally evade noisy humans/animals, and your character doesn't seem like the silent Amazonian. Also the "chattering of monkeys" is way more occasional than the constant chattering of birds. But to me it's really not the abundance of references that'll take me there, there needs to be some evolving thoughts and some 'real moments' and a more felt approach to the delirious state, not just describing it as you do, but actually experiencing it. At least to be truly convincing. Some nonsensical lines or lines otherwise suggesting a loosing of the sound mind could work. Bear in mind you're writing in first person.

Now I realize we're not pro poets in here, and if this poem is really stellar as the other posters kinda suggests, well then you can get it published if you care for that. I just think there's still room for improvement and I'm trying to tell you how I personally would go about it and you can take it or leave it. Good luck.

I cannot apologize for my character's lack of eloquence (to your satisfaction) while at death's door. There are many flowery poems out there with slop troughs full of adjectives and metaphors for you to bury your proverbial snout into.

At this point, I can only thank you for your opinion and politely send you on your way.

If you want me to recognize your experience as superior to my own and that will satisfy you, then it is duly noted. Ultimately, I think that is what all this is about. Thanks for clarifying.