Eiji Tunsinagi

There
in the high cabinet -
the floors crack so loud

my rushing for the wooden stool
slamming it down
I step up groping
the top shelf

and finally grip
plyers:
Red-handled
rusty-tipped

Her screams echo
plates rattle
in the cupboards
down the hall -
These will have to do...

I leap through the open door
hinges still
creaking

as I disappear
into morning mist
silk against my skin

__________________
"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

Pete_C

I'm not sure if this was a little flustered, almost as if you knew what you wanted to write and kind of forced the scene along, rather than some of your others which seem to naturally flow along.

The Cloaked Stranger

You create beautiful snapshots of poetic verse. But part of me wants more from these little vignettes, as if you could write an entire story in this style to give me an artistic movie instead of a photograph.

__________________
check out my novel: www.nomananisland.wordpress.com I'd appreciate critiques/comments.

Eiji Tunsinagi

Thanks Pete and Cloaked...This is supposed to be quick and fast, a snapshot. What seems forced about it in particular? Just the advancement of it?

__________________
"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

Pete_C

The Plot; it's usually a petrified moment, but this seems to have a plot forced into it, albeit just for a moment.

Eiji Tunsinagi

Thanks. I see what you're saying. I'll see if anyone notices (or cares). I think I keep myself short enough to where it might not matter?

__________________
"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

The Cloaked Stranger

But maybe it should be longer, so it does matter. I like your snapshots so I want to see them link to create a longer narrative -- like J. Alfred Prufrock or something.

__________________
check out my novel: www.nomananisland.wordpress.com I'd appreciate critiques/comments.

Pale Gallery

There seems to be some kind of rhythm trying to happen in the first five lines? Why so? Why it die?

It may be intentionally clumsy, but not sure if I like that.
I'm probably just not reading it right.

__________________

"In the end it is impossible not to become what others think you are." - Julius Caesar

Eiji Tunsinagi

Your right Pale. But then I completely destroyed it halfway through. Sorry. I'm not about poems that rhyme if they don't want to rhyme. This one stopped rhyming and so it is what it is.

And Cloaked...I really like that Eliot piece, but I think it would be better if it were split up into smaller pieces...the fantastic imagery and feeling starts to lose itself due to it's length. That's why I prefer shorter pieces.

__________________
"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

Pale Gallery

Hmm, where's Voodoo when you need him?

"Voodoo! Oh Voooodooooo!"

__________________

"In the end it is impossible not to become what others think you are." - Julius Caesar

Eiji Tunsinagi

He curses pieces I think. I'd like him not to comment on this one.

Where the hell's Baron?

__________________
"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

Eiji Tunsinagi

Hallo Baron? Wo ist ein Baron? I know he's around here somewhere...

__________________
"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

Voodoo

He curses pieces I think. I'd like him not to comment on this one.


No, nothing the author doesn't do. If, however, you're uncomfortable with people making negative comments on your work and only want friends to look, marvel, and stroke you off;

Be my guest.

"Sorry. I'm not about poems that rhyme if they don't want to rhyme. This one stopped rhyming and so it is what it is."

Not about -- PoMo, was it? It seems lazy, actually, if a poem just loses its rhythm. It should be an incentive to read and keep along with it, not just be there and "clog shit up."

_

There
in the high cabinet -
the floors crack so loud

Walk me through the line break choices. Nothing wrong, yet, I simply want to know if you control your work or post it and go get some tail.

my rushing for the wooden stool
slamming it down
I step up groping
the top shelf

Okay, you go from describing from your own voice, someting Not You, then go into present tense narration of your own actions (marks some of the most amateur poetry. Not you, of course, just saying, it's bad if, of course, it doesn't work) Also, I don't see why you didn't have punctuation. I'm not averse to poetry that shuns it for style, but if it seems absent out of WhoFuckKnows, it's not tea.

and finally grip
plyers:
Red-handled
rusty-tipped

Yes, what about pliers (misspelled it, I think) merits a line break all its own? Going into line for line description should pace the reader, so I do believe commas would enhance this. Of course, You rule.

Her screams echo
plates rattle
in the cupboards
down the hall -
These will have to do...

So, it's just action? Not "Echoing screams," not description, just (passivity can be a good thing) narration? Line breaks are a great innovation in poetry (from the purely sonic roots) that add detail. Why, mate, did you put "in the cupboards;" what double meaning is there? PoMo, sounds. Also, a thought in your head should, I think, be offset (though, it shouldn't be there at all in that strophe, as it's all told in your head, and most poets think, usuallu, italics are blunt instruments)

I leap through the open door
hinges still
creaking

Well, okay, this is the (nonphilosophical, but I can't do it well either) line break I meant. Hinges still -- means, they're still. Still creaking and Still are two different things, which is good, but they're contradictory, so it's simply ruined.

as I disappear
into morning mist
silk against my skin

(as I) rather telly thing, don't you think?Trying to gently coax the reader from the poem, which is okay, but not doing it right. You need to pay attention as to how you construct your strophes. Otherwise, we needn't bother reading it in the Poetry forum. Of course, you needn't use a strophe at all, but if you want to tackle it;

"Be my guest."

Eiji Tunsinagi

So what are you saying? You can only say negative things about pieces? That isn't critique, that is getting off. But please, if you want to give me your advice on this one, be my guest.

__________________
"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

speakerphone2

Speaker's in the house. She doesn't like this piece. It's forced. And unclear.