2013 Vincent Price Memorial Death Poetry Challenge
- Thread starter Angeline
- Start date
corndog_
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2010
- Posts
- 369
*applause*
A deft touch. Nicely skirts the maudlin.
Age modifies the pain, but leaves it undiminished.
corndog_
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2010
- Posts
- 369
corndog_
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2010
- Posts
- 369
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,157
Hey I can sit up and walk around and stuff again. And it's November! Yay.
Ok so not a lot of poems but it can be an interesting but intimidating subject, eh: where to start? And yet we see very different takes in what is written, from relentlessly sexy morbidity (C-dog) to meandering metaphor (me).
First off, honorable mention must go to Champagne's non-entry:
victim/dying person
killer
investigator
Emergency Responder
doctor
undertaker
relative
and so on
It's that last line that makes it!
sexnovella, your poem has some wonderful lines. I especially love the first one and how you tie it all together with a refrain.
Annie, I love how the nonchalant tone of your poem works with the tension of the narrative. It lends an understated finality to it. A little reminiscent of Emily Dickinson to me.
Tess, I am always struck by the precision of your images and the way you manage to infuse the whole poem with a grim subject and still maintain an almost cheerful tone. And that end line about sanitation is just perfect.
Mr. Cdog. A) I love Warren Zevon. B) I love the idea the poem is as much a tribute to him and that song as it is to death overall. C) You really do teach a class on sex and death, don't you??? Your poem is exquisitely horrible. I mean really? "a calcified carnal nest," "sieve of ribs." You really caught the spirit of the challenge.
As for the rest of you slackers lol, I have a new idea that I am stealing from a blog I love and will post on the morrow. Enough with death already. May the life force be with you.
Ok so not a lot of poems but it can be an interesting but intimidating subject, eh: where to start? And yet we see very different takes in what is written, from relentlessly sexy morbidity (C-dog) to meandering metaphor (me).
First off, honorable mention must go to Champagne's non-entry:
victim/dying person
killer
investigator
Emergency Responder
doctor
undertaker
relative
and so on
It's that last line that makes it!
sexnovella, your poem has some wonderful lines. I especially love the first one and how you tie it all together with a refrain.
Annie, I love how the nonchalant tone of your poem works with the tension of the narrative. It lends an understated finality to it. A little reminiscent of Emily Dickinson to me.
Tess, I am always struck by the precision of your images and the way you manage to infuse the whole poem with a grim subject and still maintain an almost cheerful tone. And that end line about sanitation is just perfect.
Mr. Cdog. A) I love Warren Zevon. B) I love the idea the poem is as much a tribute to him and that song as it is to death overall. C) You really do teach a class on sex and death, don't you??? Your poem is exquisitely horrible. I mean really? "a calcified carnal nest," "sieve of ribs." You really caught the spirit of the challenge.
As for the rest of you slackers lol, I have a new idea that I am stealing from a blog I love and will post on the morrow. Enough with death already. May the life force be with you.
Hey I can sit up and walk around and stuff again. And it's November! Yay.
Ok so not a lot of poems but it can be an interesting but intimidating subject, eh: where to start? And yet we see very different takes in what is written, from relentlessly sexy morbidity (C-dog) to meandering metaphor (me).
First off, honorable mention must go to Champagne's non-entry:
victim/dying person
killer
investigator
Emergency Responder
doctor
undertaker
relative
and so on
It's that last line that makes it!
sexnovella, your poem has some wonderful lines. I especially love the first one and how you tie it all together with a refrain.
Annie, I love how the nonchalant tone of your poem works with the tension of the narrative. It lends an understated finality to it. A little reminiscent of Emily Dickinson to me.
Tess, I am always struck by the precision of your images and the way you manage to infuse the whole poem with a grim subject and still maintain an almost cheerful tone. And that end line about sanitation is just perfect.
Mr. Cdog. A) I love Warren Zevon. B) I love the idea the poem is as much a tribute to him and that song as it is to death overall. C) You really do teach a class on sex and death, don't you??? Your poem is exquisitely horrible. I mean really? "a calcified carnal nest," "sieve of ribs." You really caught the spirit of the challenge.
As for the rest of you slackers lol, I have a new idea that I am stealing from a blog I love and will post on the morrow. Enough with death already. May the life force be with you.
Im still working on mine but it will be done, even if it kills me......well maybe not literally
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,157
GuiltyPleasure
AWTSS
- Joined
- Jul 12, 2003
- Posts
- 14,131
I've never wanted you to stay away more!
Only you could write an erotic poem about d e a t h ..............
Last edited:
GuiltyPleasure
AWTSS
- Joined
- Jul 12, 2003
- Posts
- 14,131
Hey I can sit up and walk around and stuff again. And it's November! Yay.
Ok so not a lot of poems but it can be an interesting but intimidating subject, eh: where to start? And yet we see very different takes in what is written, from relentlessly sexy morbidity (C-dog) to meandering metaphor (me).
First off, honorable mention must go to Champagne's non-entry:
victim/dying person
killer
investigator
Emergency Responder
doctor
undertaker
relative
and so on
It's that last line that makes it!
sexnovella, your poem has some wonderful lines. I especially love the first one and how you tie it all together with a refrain.
Annie, I love how the nonchalant tone of your poem works with the tension of the narrative. It lends an understated finality to it. A little reminiscent of Emily Dickinson to me.
Tess, I am always struck by the precision of your images and the way you manage to infuse the whole poem with a grim subject and still maintain an almost cheerful tone. And that end line about sanitation is just perfect.
Mr. Cdog. A) I love Warren Zevon. B) I love the idea the poem is as much a tribute to him and that song as it is to death overall. C) You really do teach a class on sex and death, don't you??? Your poem is exquisitely horrible. I mean really? "a calcified carnal nest," "sieve of ribs." You really caught the spirit of the challenge.
As for the rest of you slackers lol, I have a new idea that I am stealing from a blog I love and will post on the morrow. Enough with death already. May the life force be with you.
Great that you're up and about - painless, I hope.
P.S. You say the nicest things.
UnderYourSpell
Gerund Whore
- Joined
- May 20, 2007
- Posts
- 15,794
I am useless at critique so enough said that I think we all did a wonderful job .......... oh and I did think coffin not urn!
corndog_
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2010
- Posts
- 369
Only you could write an erotic poem about d e a t h ..............
You found that erotic? I wonder about you....
*The Tavvy*
In the evening light,
Under-toned by darker beats,
insane things in October heat
Friday
Dave noticed him, being a man
that needs to notice things,
didn’t quite fit in,
pallid skin, squeaky voice, styled like sin
he had an infectious nervous energy,
heel up, heel down, foot to foot
bound,
one eye green,
one eye blue,
did nothing wrong, allowed in
Dave watched him cut through
the crowd to the back
ice water in hand,
there, he took a seat,
nodding his head off time to the beat,
tingling buzz running through the crowd,
music, doof doof doof loud
nervous tension running high
not long before a fight broke out,
car park,
Dave bore witness,
steel toe boot, clack
crunch of asphalt crack,
radiating spiral fractures,
head split,
smashed pumpkin,
spilling its core to the floor,
young lad, seizures, pissed himself,
resuscitation till ambulance officers
arrived,
saved his life,
crazy eyes stalked past shaking his head
no,
Dave noticed.
Wednesday
Dave’s shift started
in the back corner, crazy eyes, with his crazy nod,
seeming to torment Dave at his job
drinking ice water, eyes all mysterious,
didn’t have too much time to contemplate
two guys playing pool,
calling kids cunt or tool, groping women
dregs of humanity,
resignation set on his face,
he set off at pace to end this affront
what grown man calls a child a cunt?
first man puffs up his chest
hands out wide in a gunslinger stance,
he wants to dance with Dave,
no talking sense with these fools,
they want a fight,
Dave knows it,
crowd knows it
these men demand it
giving no quarter he throws
himself in, starts dragging one out
tonk, splintered crack as pool cue
smacks upside Dave’s head,
blood and berserker rage paint
his face red,
crash, the first man’s head bounces
off the wall, before he has a chance
to fall, Dave turns, slices through the others
violent pose, elbow collapses eye socket,
shirt front hold race
out the fire exit,
locked,
plate class smash,
arterial slash, blood sprays
need a tourniquet,
bleeding out in shock, stupid cock
ties off his arm
violence applauded, Dave
rewarded with 8 stiches,
a fractured finger
ambulance arrive
To save lives again
crazy eyes is there, clapping
shaking his head,
no,
Dave noticed,
Sunday
end of week for Dave,
crazy eyes had not been back
since the Wednesday assault,
Dave relaxed, to a fault,
Sundays are the days to work
elderly people playing pokies
regular diners and patrons,
mundane pub life with less
strife, fights or stress, doing
routine patrols
there he was, ice water, off
kilter nod, rocking his style,
not quite right,
but there was no fight, so
Dave got back to his job
of doing five eights of
fuck all.
end of shift locking up,
check the toilets, stall is
blocked,
can’t open it, body
in the way,
rips the door off its hinges
a lady of middle age, stone cold lays
in her deathly hold a bottle of
pills designed to cure ills, apparently
they are cured for good now,
starting resuscitation he tries with
all his might, but this is not a fight he can win
ambulance arrive pronounce her DOA,
liver fucked by drug and alcohol muck,
Dave watches as she is carted away,
there in the back ground old crazy eyes
tips a salute, nodding his head
as if he wanted her dead…..
this has been one of the most difficult things I have ever written, please tear it to pieces as much as you can so that I can learn from it for next time
In the evening light,
Under-toned by darker beats,
insane things in October heat
Friday
Dave noticed him, being a man
that needs to notice things,
didn’t quite fit in,
pallid skin, squeaky voice, styled like sin
he had an infectious nervous energy,
heel up, heel down, foot to foot
bound,
one eye green,
one eye blue,
did nothing wrong, allowed in
Dave watched him cut through
the crowd to the back
ice water in hand,
there, he took a seat,
nodding his head off time to the beat,
tingling buzz running through the crowd,
music, doof doof doof loud
nervous tension running high
not long before a fight broke out,
car park,
Dave bore witness,
steel toe boot, clack
crunch of asphalt crack,
radiating spiral fractures,
head split,
smashed pumpkin,
spilling its core to the floor,
young lad, seizures, pissed himself,
resuscitation till ambulance officers
arrived,
saved his life,
crazy eyes stalked past shaking his head
no,
Dave noticed.
Wednesday
Dave’s shift started
in the back corner, crazy eyes, with his crazy nod,
seeming to torment Dave at his job
drinking ice water, eyes all mysterious,
didn’t have too much time to contemplate
two guys playing pool,
calling kids cunt or tool, groping women
dregs of humanity,
resignation set on his face,
he set off at pace to end this affront
what grown man calls a child a cunt?
first man puffs up his chest
hands out wide in a gunslinger stance,
he wants to dance with Dave,
no talking sense with these fools,
they want a fight,
Dave knows it,
crowd knows it
these men demand it
giving no quarter he throws
himself in, starts dragging one out
tonk, splintered crack as pool cue
smacks upside Dave’s head,
blood and berserker rage paint
his face red,
crash, the first man’s head bounces
off the wall, before he has a chance
to fall, Dave turns, slices through the others
violent pose, elbow collapses eye socket,
shirt front hold race
out the fire exit,
locked,
plate class smash,
arterial slash, blood sprays
need a tourniquet,
bleeding out in shock, stupid cock
ties off his arm
violence applauded, Dave
rewarded with 8 stiches,
a fractured finger
ambulance arrive
To save lives again
crazy eyes is there, clapping
shaking his head,
no,
Dave noticed,
Sunday
end of week for Dave,
crazy eyes had not been back
since the Wednesday assault,
Dave relaxed, to a fault,
Sundays are the days to work
elderly people playing pokies
regular diners and patrons,
mundane pub life with less
strife, fights or stress, doing
routine patrols
there he was, ice water, off
kilter nod, rocking his style,
not quite right,
but there was no fight, so
Dave got back to his job
of doing five eights of
fuck all.
end of shift locking up,
check the toilets, stall is
blocked,
can’t open it, body
in the way,
rips the door off its hinges
a lady of middle age, stone cold lays
in her deathly hold a bottle of
pills designed to cure ills, apparently
they are cured for good now,
starting resuscitation he tries with
all his might, but this is not a fight he can win
ambulance arrive pronounce her DOA,
liver fucked by drug and alcohol muck,
Dave watches as she is carted away,
there in the back ground old crazy eyes
tips a salute, nodding his head
as if he wanted her dead…..
this has been one of the most difficult things I have ever written, please tear it to pieces as much as you can so that I can learn from it for next time
Last edited:
UnderYourSpell
Gerund Whore
- Joined
- May 20, 2007
- Posts
- 15,794
I will read this later when I can concentrate fully on it because at the moment my husband will not stop talking!
butters
High on a Hill
- Joined
- Jul 2, 2009
- Posts
- 83,634
*applauds* and i keep time to the beat!
strong, strong, strong. storytelling, continuity, sound, imagery, action/reaction. you kept it true to your series, it's a killer keeper, tods. all that struggling? you beat it well done, and i hope that doesn't come off as in the least insincere or patronising. seeing the original, this is the piece you had the ideas all there for but you have taken it up about 8 notches. very very happy for you, dude.
ok, your opening 3 lines set the mood, the moment, the edge.
loving your 'styled like sin' and the way you show us the nervous energy, not just state it, with the heel thing and the nodding off-beat. what you do throughout this is give us the view through Dave's eyes; like a camera lens, we follow the players, who have been awarded such characters they stand right out. even the dead lady in the toilet has a history. Like the reps of 'Dave noticed'. Although you don't describe Dave to us, i feel we can all see him anyway, if we only look back in through the lens, or pan out - depending on if we want to see the person inside or the physical form. you allow the reader to fill in that stuff, you don't need to.
okay, one or two small typos/tense issues i.e plate class, and 'ambulance arrive/To save lives' . . . i'm not entirely certain the tense thing, were you swap from past to present and back again is that big an issue. what it does, though, is mark the middle section as more urgent, more 'of the moment' for me, as a reader. i don't know if it was deliberate and, if it was, your intentions behind it.
in your opening 3 lines, is there a significance behind the I/U being capitalised? Intensive Unit as in ICU? I & U as in writer & reader?
punctuation: not convinced you need as many commas as you've used, but it's not really a matter of them being misplaced.
what i love best about this write, tods, is the fact you kept true to your vision, your voice, the poem's voice - you made this about the dance between Death and Dave (try as he might, Dave can't win 'em all), with your other characters lined up to fill the cast. i only wish this stuff was all from your imagination and not real-life events.
very well done, guy. i'm impressed.
strong, strong, strong. storytelling, continuity, sound, imagery, action/reaction. you kept it true to your series, it's a killer keeper, tods. all that struggling? you beat it
well done, and i hope that doesn't come off as in the least insincere or patronising. seeing the original, this is the piece you had the ideas all there for but you have taken it up about 8 notches. very very happy for you, dude.ok, your opening 3 lines set the mood, the moment, the edge.
loving your 'styled like sin' and the way you show us the nervous energy, not just state it, with the heel thing and the nodding off-beat. what you do throughout this is give us the view through Dave's eyes; like a camera lens, we follow the players, who have been awarded such characters they stand right out. even the dead lady in the toilet has a history. Like the reps of 'Dave noticed'. Although you don't describe Dave to us, i feel we can all see him anyway, if we only look back in through the lens, or pan out - depending on if we want to see the person inside or the physical form. you allow the reader to fill in that stuff, you don't need to.
okay, one or two small typos/tense issues i.e plate class, and 'ambulance arrive/To save lives' . . . i'm not entirely certain the tense thing, were you swap from past to present and back again is that big an issue. what it does, though, is mark the middle section as more urgent, more 'of the moment' for me, as a reader. i don't know if it was deliberate and, if it was, your intentions behind it.
in your opening 3 lines, is there a significance behind the I/U being capitalised? Intensive Unit as in ICU? I & U as in writer & reader?
punctuation: not convinced you need as many commas as you've used, but it's not really a matter of them being misplaced.
what i love best about this write, tods, is the fact you kept true to your vision, your voice, the poem's voice - you made this about the dance between Death and Dave (try as he might, Dave can't win 'em all), with your other characters lined up to fill the cast. i only wish this stuff was all from your imagination and not real-life events.
very well done, guy. i'm impressed.
*The Tavvy*
In the evening light,
Under-toned by darker beats,
insane things in October heat
Friday
Dave noticed him, being a man
that needs to notice things,
didn’t quite fit in,
pallid skin, squeaky voice, styled like sin
he had an infectious nervous energy,
heel up, heel down, foot to foot
bound,
one eye green,
one eye blue,
did nothing wrong, allowed in
Dave watched him cut through
the crowd to the back
ice water in hand,
there, he took a seat,
nodding his head off time to the beat,
tingling buzz running through the crowd,
music, doof doof doof loud
nervous tension running high
not long before a fight broke out,
car park,
Dave bore witness,
steel toe boot, clack
crunch of asphalt crack,
radiating spiral fractures,
head split,
smashed pumpkin,
spilling its core to the floor,
young lad, seizures, pissed himself,
resuscitation till ambulance officers
arrived,
saved his life,
crazy eyes stalked past shaking his head
no,
Dave noticed.
Wednesday
Dave’s shift started
in the back corner, crazy eyes, with his crazy nod,
seeming to torment Dave at his job
drinking ice water, eyes all mysterious,
didn’t have too much time to contemplate
two guys playing pool,
calling kids cunt or tool, groping women
dregs of humanity,
resignation set on his face,
he set off at pace to end this affront
what grown man calls a child a cunt?
first man puffs up his chest
hands out wide in a gunslinger stance,
he wants to dance with Dave,
no talking sense with these fools,
they want a fight,
Dave knows it,
crowd knows it
these men demand it
giving no quarter he throws
himself in, starts dragging one out
tonk, splintered crack as pool cue
smacks upside Dave’s head,
blood and berserker rage paint
his face red,
crash, the first man’s head bounces
off the wall, before he has a chance
to fall, Dave turns, slices through the others
violent pose, elbow collapses eye socket,
shirt front hold race
out the fire exit,
locked,
plate class smash,
arterial slash, blood sprays
need a tourniquet,
bleeding out in shock, stupid cock
ties off his arm
violence applauded, Dave
rewarded with 8 stiches,
a fractured finger
ambulance arrive
To save lives again
crazy eyes is there, clapping
shaking his head,
no,
Dave noticed,
Sunday
end of week for Dave,
crazy eyes had not been back
since the Wednesday assault,
Dave relaxed, to a fault,
Sundays are the days to work
elderly people playing pokies
regular diners and patrons,
mundane pub life with less
strife, fights or stress, doing
routine patrols
there he was, ice water, off
kilter nod, rocking his style,
not quite right,
but there was no fight, so
Dave got back to his job
of doing five eights of
fuck all.
end of shift locking up,
check the toilets, stall is
blocked,
can’t open it, body
in the way,
rips the door off its hinges
a lady of middle age, stone cold lays
in her deathly hold a bottle of
pills designed to cure ills, apparently
they are cured for good now,
starting resuscitation he tries with
all his might, but this is not a fight he can win
ambulance arrive pronounce her DOA,
liver fucked by drug and alcohol muck,
Dave watches as she is carted away,
there in the back ground old crazy eyes
tips a salute, nodding his head
as if he wanted her dead…..
this has been one of the most difficult things I have ever written, please tear it to pieces as much as you can so that I can learn from it for next time
HarryHill
Hairy fucker
- Joined
- Jul 13, 2012
- Posts
- 15,044
..You found that erotic? I wonder about you....
Ha!
Evilwriter
Experienced
- Joined
- May 25, 2013
- Posts
- 81
Vincent Price poetry challenge
I would have thought the idea of a Halloween poetry challenge would be sort of a grand joke, but the poems on this page were great. There are some talented writers on Lit.
I would have thought the idea of a Halloween poetry challenge would be sort of a grand joke, but the poems on this page were great. There are some talented writers on Lit.
butters
High on a Hill
- Joined
- Jul 2, 2009
- Posts
- 83,634
this deserves a longer comment than i dropped before (and beyond the fact it showed me how to indent 
)
didn't recognise the name, Zevon, but realised who it was as soon as i saw 'werewolves of london' mentioned. a modern 'Howl'? *smiles*
your title couches what follows in that place we all recognise as one meaning safety, security, the place one feels most comfortable - so i read this as Home and Howl together, succinctly depraved, and underlined by the lyrics used from 'excitable boy'.
what i believe you've done with this piece is pick us up and place us inside the head of the howling one; you've removed the external judgement we'd automatically feel as outsiders witnessing events, and put us inside his p.o.v.
the use of 'baying' together with moonlight continues the werewolf conceit, strengthening the sense of the animalistic.
the romanticised aspect of 'mother-of-pearl arcs' and the moonbeam's 'pale gaze' give a wonderfully sad, macabre, poetically human aspect to the disturbed mind involved.
'crooked hand' is just another clear visual that has layerings of meaning that serve to remind me of the scene from american werewolf in london (and others) where they focus tightly on the shaping of the hand as it changes.
'calcified carnal nest' is a superb turn of phrase - not because of its alliteration, but because of all it manages to convey as a phrase, plus points for originality. 'nest', especially, adds continuity to the 'home' idea - safety, comfort, protection....
originality continues with 'eyebeams' - we can imagine a laser-like search beyond the surface and into dark places.
'I know you felt me/penetrate the dirt' - once again, all about duality or more of meaning. you make this erotica from the subject's pov - and it works! it gives us uncomfortable insight/empathy. you serve us up his sexual and emotional pleasure without compromise. it works, and works well. all about the layerings. thankyou.
(and beyond the fact it showed me how to indent )didn't recognise the name, Zevon, but realised who it was as soon as i saw 'werewolves of london' mentioned. a modern 'Howl'? *smiles*
your title couches what follows in that place we all recognise as one meaning safety, security, the place one feels most comfortable - so i read this as Home and Howl together, succinctly depraved, and underlined by the lyrics used from 'excitable boy'.
what i believe you've done with this piece is pick us up and place us inside the head of the howling one; you've removed the external judgement we'd automatically feel as outsiders witnessing events, and put us inside his p.o.v.
the use of 'baying' together with moonlight continues the werewolf conceit, strengthening the sense of the animalistic.
the romanticised aspect of 'mother-of-pearl arcs' and the moonbeam's 'pale gaze' give a wonderfully sad, macabre, poetically human aspect to the disturbed mind involved.
'crooked hand' is just another clear visual that has layerings of meaning that serve to remind me of the scene from american werewolf in london (and others) where they focus tightly on the shaping of the hand as it changes.
'calcified carnal nest' is a superb turn of phrase - not because of its alliteration, but because of all it manages to convey as a phrase, plus points for originality. 'nest', especially, adds continuity to the 'home' idea - safety, comfort, protection....
originality continues with 'eyebeams' - we can imagine a laser-like search beyond the surface and into dark places.
'I know you felt me/penetrate the dirt' - once again, all about duality or more of meaning. you make this erotica from the subject's pov - and it works! it gives us uncomfortable insight/empathy. you serve us up his sexual and emotional pleasure without compromise. it works, and works well. all about the layerings. thankyou.
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,157
if not tonight, then tomorrow
edit: you know, i remember now why i commented on the others first - this one rendered me speechless. deeply moved, but unable to form the right words. there's so much going on in it, not least the skills involved in its technical play.
returned:
there's a grand, solemn sweep to this piece - vistas of cross-studded green, bluff and sea, a broader reach encompassing more fields of death whose horrors breed tangled grass.... *sigh*
and then you reign us back in, bring us to focus on the point in your painting: amidst that vast expanse reaching across continents, across time, there's one girl, a single coffin, a doorway into the light. poetry like this is so far beyond my own abilities i cannot help but be blown away by the skills. thankyou.
Thank you so much Ms. B. I was really concerned that this poem was all over the place and never really came together the way I wanted. I feel like it still needs work but I struggled with it a lot so I am going to let it sit for a while so I can come back to it without all the "how did I screw it up" baggage I normally carry for weeks (or more) after I first write something!
If anyone else has suggestions or comments I'd love to hear them.
butters
High on a Hill
- Joined
- Jul 2, 2009
- Posts
- 83,634
if it is, then i've not the skills to notice. others might be of more help, all i can do is say how it affected me.Thank you so much Ms. B. I was really concerned that this poem was all over the place and never really came together the way I wanted. I feel like it still needs work but I struggled with it a lot so I am going to let it sit for a while so I can come back to it without all the "how did I screw it up" baggage I normally carry for weeks (or more) after I first write something!
If anyone else has suggestions or comments I'd love to hear them.
shit, that damned typo
rein, dammit, rein
*goes edit*
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,157
if it is, then i've not the skills to notice. others might be of more help, all i can do is say how it affected me.
shit, that damned typo
rein, dammit, rein
*goes edit*
I never have good perspective on my own poems. I always feel like I'm reaching and can do better which can be distressing, but also is good because it makes me keep pushing toward my own vision of the poetry promised land.
corndog_
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2010
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- 369
I never have good perspective on my own poems. I always feel like I'm reaching and can do better which can be distressing, but also is good because it makes me keep pushing toward my own vision of the poetry promised land.
We've had this conversation on Lit before (a Tzara thread?), but I remain a little frightened of my own creations. I feel like I have just delivered a baby-- I tell myself that, with time, it will become something beautiful, but dear lord right now it is covered with amniotic slime and has a misshapen head.
butters
High on a Hill
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- Jul 2, 2009
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- 83,634
i've pretty much come to the conclusion, now, that there're endless possibilities of how others read a single write. i can't hope to cover all aspects, deal with all levels of understanding and empathy.... all i can hope to do is write something that feels 'right' - right for me, but more importantly right for itself as an individual and unique thing. the closer i get to feeling that, the happier i am and less tempted to mess about with it. years later, as ability develops, i might well go back and see all the botches. for now, though, i don't trouble myself too much one it's done. it is what it is and people will read into it (or fail to read what i put into it) as they will.
well after we cleaned all the slime off you have served up something I am in awe of, there is a sexual tension in a weird macabre way, you manage to paint in sparse lines a yearning for this dead thing in the ground, the urge to dig it up, caress it.
As butters said, with have an empathetic reaction toward the desire due to the way you wrote it.
*applauds* and i keep time to the beat!
strong, strong, strong. storytelling, continuity, sound, imagery, action/reaction. you kept it true to your series, it's a killer keeper, tods. all that struggling? you beat it
ok, your opening 3 lines set the mood, the moment, the edge.
loving your 'styled like sin' and the way you show us the nervous energy, not just state it, with the heel thing and the nodding off-beat. what you do throughout this is give us the view through Dave's eyes; like a camera lens, we follow the players, who have been awarded such characters they stand right out. even the dead lady in the toilet has a history. Like the reps of 'Dave noticed'. Although you don't describe Dave to us, i feel we can all see him anyway, if we only look back in through the lens, or pan out - depending on if we want to see the person inside or the physical form. you allow the reader to fill in that stuff, you don't need to.
okay, one or two small typos/tense issues i.e plate class, and 'ambulance arrive/To save lives' . . . i'm not entirely certain the tense thing, were you swap from past to present and back again is that big an issue. what it does, though, is mark the middle section as more urgent, more 'of the moment' for me, as a reader. i don't know if it was deliberate and, if it was, your intentions behind it.
in your opening 3 lines, is there a significance behind the I/U being capitalised? Intensive Unit as in ICU? I & U as in writer & reader?
punctuation: not convinced you need as many commas as you've used, but it's not really a matter of them being misplaced.
what i love best about this write, tods, is the fact you kept true to your vision, your voice, the poem's voice - you made this about the dance between Death and Dave (try as he might, Dave can't win 'em all), with your other characters lined up to fill the cast. i only wish this stuff was all from your imagination and not real-life events.
very well done, guy. i'm impressed.
Agree with all the commas, didn't realise how many I'd freaking used.....
The I and U is a format error from the computer, I had to change the first letter of each new line to a lower case, I must have missed that one. Damn speeling
should be glassAs for the tenses,
There were three deaths each one happened in a different way, one witnessed, one dave was physically involved the third a shocking discovery. I left the witness ones as they were because I was hoping that you as a reader added your own emotional connection to it.
Highlighting the urgency in the second death I was hoping added gravitas to the adrenaline dump that surges when you fight, everything is immediate, in your face reaction. When you nearly kill someone you need an ambulance now, now, now. The urgency and the saving lives I was trying to give a sense of relief when the ambulance officers
arrived to save lives line was written,
coz of how prose the story is I left a lot of holes filled with hope
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