Orphanage - Writers Forum

Mirror · 02-16-2008, 01:55 PM

DELETED

Iva · 02-16-2008, 03:36 PM

wow. i always get affected when reading about this type of thing, even moreso in art where the emotiones take a life of their own. beautiful and disturbing all in one. thank you for reminding me how much i want to adopt

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MisterJack · 02-16-2008, 03:43 PM

My only nit is the enjambment in this part....

black when afternoon
lowers its underwear over motherless bricks
of the garden wall; three boys grew there.
Now they taste love. No mother, just
tiny breasts underneath a striped shirt.

perhaps.........

black
when afternoon lowers its underwear
over motherless bricks of the garden wall;
three boys grew there.
Now they taste love. No mother,
just tiny breasts
underneath a striped shirt.

Feels kind of harrowing. Are the 'floor shirts' the same as the 'striped shirts?'
I probably am missing something there

Jack

Mirror · 02-16-2008, 04:31 PM

Thanks, Iva.

Jack, I adjusted the enjambment as per your suggestion. The 'shirts' in the second verse are simply floor tiles resemblant of the former. In the last verse, the 'shirt' belongs to a nameless female entity, 'shared' by the three. Don't want to give away too much of the meaning so early. Everyone can have his/her interpretation. I relied on implication here. They all are 'harrowing' - my pieces. I'd abysmally fail at attempting something zesty. Thank you for your input. Always appreciated.

MisterJack · 02-16-2008, 04:42 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Mirror

I'd abysmally fail at attempting something zesty.

Try us

It's my pleasure, Mirror. I wasn't expecting a detailed answer, I just wanted confiirmation they were two seperate entities.

This is still vague at the moment, but I am getting a feeling of abortions, an orphanage for aborted children, or rejected at birth at least.
I will keep coming back to work it out, as always

Jack

Mirror · 02-17-2008, 07:30 AM

Thank again, Jack. You're not far from the meaning at all. In the end, all that matters is what the reader notices.

Baron · 02-17-2008, 07:35 AM

An emotive and absorbing read. this seems more accessible than much of your work and yet equally mysterious.

Mirror · 02-17-2008, 08:23 AM

Thank you, Baron. You read it exactly as I intended it.

Eiji Tunsinagi · 02-17-2008, 01:52 PM

Beautiful images - and flow. Fantastic.

Mirror · 02-17-2008, 03:26 PM

I'm so glad you liked it, Eiji. Thanks.

Ilasir Maroa · 02-17-2008, 04:32 PM

I don't find it more accessible. It's just as loopy as ever.

Still, an interesting read, Mirror.

Mirror · 02-17-2008, 08:35 PM

Why, thank you Ilasir. I do, however, believe it is a reader's duty to delve into a writer's work the moment he/she chooses to read it. For instance, I've printed out 'Anniversary'. Still brooding over it, even though you enlightened us.
Cheers.

Mirror · 02-19-2008, 08:09 PM

I hate resurrecting my work, but, in another forum, someone proposed some changes. I want to improve this. Any suggestions?

Indigo_Streetlight · 02-21-2008, 10:02 PM

I'll mention some of the directions I followed when reading this.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Mirror

Snail drool washes I see orphanage boys wiping their noses with grubby little knuckles.
black-and white floor shirts. Black and white seems like formal colors, like private school uniforms, but how clean can they be if they're a floor? If these are checkered shirts, that would seem to go well with the macaroni.
Days divide tiles
where chef's fury shoots macaroni.
They slew their sentry- the only hen left. The head matron of the orphanage, possibly. Don't roosters usually watch over a flock of chickens? Role reversal, but there's no overt fox.
All grass blades
... green candle flames,
... homage to the Kindergarten abandoned I like how the set-off structure here seems match the triplicate of the three boys. I'm somewhere between grass in an easter basket and grass poking through an urban lot.
in reading primers, folded.
Homage for the snail's milky way, Being a homeless kid once, I can really dig the appreciation for candy bars, but at the same time I'd like to squelch any galactic or spacey connotations in this.
across this orphanage
black
when afternoon lowers its underwear
over motherless bricks of the garden wall;
three boys grew there.
Now they taste love. No mother,
just tiny breasts
underneath a striped shirt.

homage to the Kindergarten abandoned
in reading primers, folded.
Homage for the snail's milky way,
across this orphanage
black

Here I think I got a little visually lost--I might find a way to transition back to the swirling mop on black tile. The rest of the poem is so rich with metaphorical pointing I think it wouldn't hurt you to ground a little bit with some concrete literals. Also I wasn't quite feeling the folded reading primers--could they be more personalized? Kids would scribble those up if they got half a chance

Mirror · 02-22-2008, 08:47 AM

Thanks for your thorough comment and critique, Indigo. Will certainly consider your suggestions, especially the one concerning the floor shirts. I aimed for something bland and morose (besides, the floors could be the shirts. Hint. Hint.)

The lines you have cited (homage...) are a play on garden/Kindergarten (leads to the garden wall later on) - youth folded, lost in youth.

Thank you, again. I'll see what I can do.