21·Oct·2005 · "Panties in the Sink" · annaswirls

[Senna Jawa]

A general comment

Hi Anna,

I have spent quite some time on your poem. It doesn't happen often, there are only a handful of poems on which I dwelved that long.

Your poem is very good, regardless and thanks to its minor blemishes.

This "and" means that your attempts at the incremental improvements of your text by removing the mentioned blemishes one at the time may actually destroy your poem. This is, in the case of a strong poem like yours, the danger of getting a critique minus the understanding. The understanding here of the "regardless and thanks to" situation is absolutely necessary if you want to give your poem the full justice.

Some virtuoso musicians refuse to record compositions in a piecemeal fashion. Instead, they insist on playing the whole piece again and again. And you Anna too, in the case of this poem, should write its total variations from scratch. Each time you should understand and know your goal, which may differ from one variation to another.

An ultimate new version of your poem could/should be titled "swirl". Indeed, your temporarily selected title is no good. A simple title would be "hair". It works for the present version as is.

I'll post the concrete observations later.

Regards,

Senna Jawa

 

[Vampiric_Mirage]

I'm not all that wonderful at commenting at the best of times, with poems that I feel comfortable with. Therefore, I'm not going to comment on the grammar and punctuation, or style, or symbolism, or whatever else. The only thing I can truly think to say is this piece is kind of scarily true sounding and just generally disturbing in its "differentness".

It reminds me when I was talking to a 14 year old girl at a seminar I went to a while ago and she was explaining how she could have sex with a guy, but she couldn't eat in front of him because it was "too gross." It's sadly amazing what people won't do, say, or in this case let see, in front of people who they are having sex with.

That said, I wasn't sure if this poem was written in humour or not. I don't think it was, but the "differentness" of it made me almost want to just laugh it off as a joke. The flaws we have are often very personal, and in my limited experience most try not to think about them, much less write about them so candidly, which in my mind makes this a good poem for breaking barriers that shouldn't exist.

This is, without a doubt, one of your most original pieces of poetry, and considering your poetry, that's saying quite a bit.

Good luck and hope maybe this can somehow help in some way...

 

[Vampiric_Mirage]

P.S. as for a title, how about "Growing Short on Time" ? just a thought...

Once again, good luck...

 

[annaswirls]

Hi Senna Jawa,

Thank you for reading my poem and for taking the time to think it over and to leave your comments.

I agree with you on the conncept of starting over fresh. I tend to always wind up a little bit different as a person when I am done writing a poem, so it is hard to go back and make major changes-- and as you say, tweaking the minor flaws often ruins it. I did go back and start to re-write, but I realized that I was writing it in prose, so I went with it. I now have a rough flash fiction piece that needs some work. I will keep working on the poem version. Or versions.

With this one, I think I have a goal but I am not completely in touch with it, not at a bare level of honesty. I knew there were gender issues going on, but when 1201 mentioned this, it clicked with me a little deeper.

I thank you for your encouragement and your suggestions.

All the best,

Anna

Hi Anna,

I have spent quite some time on your poem. It doesn't happen often, there are only a handful of poems on which I dwelved that long.

Your poem is very good, regardless and thanks to its minor blemishes.

This "and" means that your attempts at the incremental improvements of your text by removing the mentioned blemishes one at the time may actually destroy your poem. This is, in the case of a strong poem like yours, the danger of getting a critique minus the understanding. The understanding here of the "regardless and thanks to" situation is absolutely necessary if you want to give your poem the full justice.

Some virtuoso musicians refuse to record compositions in a piecemeal fashion. Instead, they insist on playing the whole piece again and again. And you Anna too, in the case of this poem, should write its total variations from scratch. Each time you should understand and know your goal, which may differ from one variation to another.

An ultimate new version of your poem could/should be titled "swirl". Indeed, your temporarily selected title is no good. A simple title would be "hair". It works for the present version as is.

I'll post the concrete observations later.

Regards,

Senna Jawa

 

[annaswirls]

Thank you Vampiric Mirage, for reading the poem and commenting from your area of strength... the understanding of human perceptions/behaviors.

The girl to whom you were speaking is the girl in the story. You met her! We all have. It is far too common.

I am glad you got a laugh out of this. I was going for that-- the candid announcement and description of something that is not generally spoken.

Your comments Did help, thank you for putting it into context with your experience.

All the best,

Anna

I'm not all that wonderful at commenting at the best of times, with poems that I feel comfortable with. Therefore, I'm not going to comment on the grammar and punctuation, or style, or symbolism, or whatever else. The only thing I can truly think to say is this piece is kind of scarily true sounding and just generally disturbing in its "differentness".

It reminds me when I was talking to a 14 year old girl at a seminar I went to a while ago and she was explaining how she could have sex with a guy, but she couldn't eat in front of him because it was "too gross." It's sadly amazing what people won't do, say, or in this case let see, in front of people who they are having sex with.

That said, I wasn't sure if this poem was written in humour or not. I don't think it was, but the "differentness" of it made me almost want to just laugh it off as a joke. The flaws we have are often very personal, and in my limited experience most try not to think about them, much less write about them so candidly, which in my mind makes this a good poem for breaking barriers that shouldn't exist.

This is, without a doubt, one of your most original pieces of poetry, and considering your poetry, that's saying quite a bit.

Good luck and hope maybe this can somehow help in some way...

 

[Senna Jawa]

voice

I'll leave the dramatic )) part of my specific comments for the next post. Here let's talk about the voice of your poem, and a bit about the voice in general.

The very first line:

==> If you must know

starts a narration in a strong, direct way, where you are addressing the reader directly (a majority of poems do it in a less forceful way).

Also flat is a phrase like:

==> I always knew it would not last,
==> and sure enough (...)

The advantages of using narration (a monolog, almost a dialog, without waiting for the other person to speak--one could have a narration/monolog which implies answers or reactions/gestures,facial expressions of the other person; but I am diverging... is it... beer ... already?), the advantages are obvious--one gets the mode and mood, a quick contact with the reader, the story flows easily.

There are also drawbacks: there is a pronounced danger of the puerile sound, overly colloquial, cheap (when youngsters play a good story teller then they abuse this style by inserting certain automatical cliches to get their flow going). And first of all the quotient of the poetry per phrase, per word, tends to go down. For instance, your first line does not carry poetry.

This narrative style (or its implementation) is perhaps the reason that some readers felt that you possibly have rather a story (prose) than a poem. I myself don't worry about the issue of crossing the imaginary line. All I care about is art.

The narrative style is strong when by quoting the lirical subject the author easily and efficiently provides the info about her subject without telling things about the lirical subject like: intelligent, dense, educated, bum, friendly, hostile, ethnic, full of himself/herself, ... ... ... And it's rare that the whole poem needes to be one continuous narration. Often just hints of lirical subject voice is enough.

Your usage of narration is fine but not very convincing. Thus when you write your ultimate version you may try to avoid using the voice of the lirical subject. I don't feel that her voice was crucial, that it increased the quality of the poem.

When you remove the narration then you will have to face the truth: your poem does not have that much of material. Some great poems have virtually none, so this is not an absolute problem. But it is in the case of this poem--I will explain in the next post. I would suggest to add some story before and/or after the present one.

At this time your story is framed by the growth of the chest hair. You turn it in the poem into a great symbol. But it is not, It is but not that great--don't force it. It can be downplayed, it doesn't have to be the very beginning and the very end of the story. It'll be still there, still accented, but not out of proportion.

Thus my suggestion for an ultimate )) variation: remove the narration, add more story (either a little or even a lot), set your poem on a higher poetic orbit, language wise (but not by any smart or funny words like "sorrow" -- keep it still very simple). Of cpourse, in the spirit of yin & yang (why isn't it yin & yan or ying & yang?) you may always have a tinge of this or that in your poem--fanatic strict sticking to the rules has its own drawbacks.

Let me list the flat phrases at the start of your text so that you can clearly realize the potential in removing them (true, afterwards the text is almost free from flatness--great!):

If you must know
I have these ...
Actually they are not ...
They are ...

Yes I ... them
with ...,
...
...
...
their own ... [we had 3 good lines "..." above )

Regards,

Senna Jawa

 

[Guest]

bump for anna

 

[Senna Jawa]

phase transition

This is my third, last, and the main comment on Anna's poem "Panties in the Sink".

I'll make my comment objective, but to lead you-readers of this post, to the conclusion, I'll take you through my subjective contact with the poem--my relation with the poem was changing in time.

Poetry, vodka, nastiness, demagogy, electric shocks... they all affect us. But poetry is different in that it should affect us via artistic means. Part of the technical understanding of poetry is seeing how texts are playing on readers like musicians on their instruments. Authors are childish when they try to impress the readers with their intelligence/cleverness or with their own good/bad character and personality. But playing the instrument called the reader--that's a different story. This time I am that instrument.

At first I didn't understand Anna's text. Now it is hard for me to believe that I didn't, but indeed I did not. Perhaps I was/am dense or tired or beerful or sleepless or latenightish/earlymorningish. Thus I was coming back to the text and soon or not so soon I more or less understood it. That "more or less" (in place of "fully") is very important. That's when this poem was making on me the greatest impact. Later I simply understood the text and the poem became a bit more regular, normal, and it lost a bit of its allure, only a little bit. It is still a strong, down to earth poem-story, which presents several characters, it is a social chapter...

But let me go back to the point and main theme of this comment. It is about the entropy and phase transition between order and disorder. Some poems are great this way, and "Panties..." belongs to this genre. Its high (but not too high) entropy comes from being populated by several characters, by presenting quite a number of smaller and larger events, and by mixing them--by telling the small and simple ones together with the seemingly larger and more dramatic ones in one linear stream, with equal emphasis.

Anna has applied entropy as an artistic mean throughout the whole poem. I will show how the entropy rises in "Panties..." )), besides its richness and the even treatment of uneven items.

The poem starts slowly but accelerates already in stanza 2, starting with line 3. The 5th line uses short, 1-syllable verbs "perk" "pink", which in principle may serve as other grammatical parts (nouns, adjectives), and then it (the 5th line) switches from the simple present tense to the continuous form "wanting". And suddenly, in addition to a number of pronouns, there is also an anthropomorphism of nipples. The result is certain mess (entropy), the language makes an impression like there were more characters than just the lyrical subject. There is already a hint of a crowd. This crowd of pronouns and mess is continuing to the end. As a rule pronouns are void of any poetry. Often they sound even phony, almost always flat--after all the the role of pronouns is to avoid any concrete description/identification; pronouns are meant to be just abbreviations after all. But here in this poem pronouns may be considered, as the collection, as an artistic mean, contributing to the entropy. It's not the best solution/tool, but it works here quite well, in an artistically meaningful way.

Imagine that you are traveling. You are exhausted. You would sleep if you had a chance. There are people around you. You understand this and that, but you do not even know who is whose friend, brother, sister, uncle, lover... They come suddenly into your life, the scenes are intensive, and then they are gone, some other people enter your surrounding, and again you take an emotional stand toward them or you just observe them without even meaning it. You understand things and you don't. That's how I feel about Anna's poem. In the third stanza suddenly a guy with a crooked cock shows up. It's like in travel, when you learn intimate things about complete strangers. It's a phase transition.

The effect is enhanced by what normally I would call defects or blemishes. Here I cannot be so sure since those supposed drawbacks serve a purpose. On one hand Anna's technique is not always shining, but on the other hand her talent shows up and makes up for the seeming technical shortcomings. Thus in the third stanza, was the "guy" in front of the lyrical subject when they "fucked"? Was he shaving himself while they were making love? Was he shaving around his nipples or his cock? Yes, I know, grammatically and logically, he was shaving his chest--but when one reads, it's not the logic and grammar alone which are responsible for the effect but also things like proximity of the words, accents and emphasis, associations.... Thus while we, the readers, are impressed with the "right there in front of me" image, there follows another twist:

Hell of a thing to wake up to
looking down from a strange loft
dizzy with vertigo vision
​

We get a completely different image. Perhaps this "loft" makes me feel like being in travel, on a train. As a child I loved to get up onto the narrow compartment shelve meant for baggage. I read this poem like I were looking down at passengers and through the window from that shelve. I'd see small sleepy stations and towns, trees and forests... and adults at an angle, which made them short. Anna's poem is such a travel.

Next Anna repeats:

to see a naked man
shaving his chest.
​

But is it the same shaving operation or a different one? Nobody knows.

Next Anna switches from intensive, objective reporting to a quiet moment of a personal reflection:

He starts to explain.
I do not care.
I cannot care.
​

and immediately goes back to the crazy but objective kind of narrative reporting:

Finally on day three of my stay
in his Philadelphia loft,
his roommate, Chuck and I were awake at the same time.
​

How many people do we have here? Perhaps "he"+rommate+Chuck+"I", for a total of four? Or "he"-the lover is Chuck, so that we have "I"+"Chuck-her lover"+Chuck's roommate? OK, once again, NOW I know that actually roommate=Chuck, right? . But the way the poem bounces like that train in the old days, I don't expect a perfect grammar and logic, it's not even a consideration. And it is not a reader's goal or duty to proofread, to concentrate on the grammar or coherence. On images, sensual effects,... yes!

(The repetition of "loft" is a minor weakness. It is perhaps hard to fix it. Poetry is not easy).

The whirlpool of pronouns is continuing:

He had snored through everything
except the night had his own bitch on the couch.
​

Who's "he"? The text felt strange. ("he"=lover after all).

Earlier we had textual jumps from "in front" to "looking down". Now from "awake" to "snore". On the top of it, the scene is such that "snore" associates with "snort" (cocaine).

The last line cited above is strange anyway you look at it. Perhaps it means "except that that night he (who?) had his own bitch...". Or is "the night" having "his own bitch"? At first moment I was even admitting a possibility that "bitch" is symbolic. The entry and appearance of the "bitch" is weird. I can assume, after reading the poem with a distance, that the bitch belonged to Chuck. Nevertheless I have to force myself to agree that words "wait, baby, come on, don't." came from Chuck and not from "he", who just a moment ago was the lover of the lyrical subject. Word "Except" sounds very good, while logically is not suggestive. Or did "he" had his own bitch in addition to the lyrical subject, and he woke up to tell the bitch "wait..."? Almost for sure the bitch was not his, but possibly he was woken up by her. The meaning here is not important (artistically), and only the entropy is.

The poem has several good moments. One of them was the episode of the lover washing the lyrical subject's panties. But, please, everybody, don't make too much of it. There is no need to make a big feminist issue and discussion. Let's simply and passively agree that life is rich, that people are different, that all kind of things happen. Then it's nice.

It's not my goal to go through a detailed inventories of the goodies (or lesser moments) of the poem. I wanted to convey my feeling of being lost, of the effect of the phase transition (like when you are at such a distance from a forest that you can't decide whether you should look at the single trees or at the forest as one). That feeling--the effect of entropy--was dependent on my reading stage, on my familiarity with the poem. And at one moment it was great, it was perfect. Anna's poem is imperfect but it is capable of providing a reader with a truly poetic state, the transition state.

I would still encourage Anna to work on this poem. Aim, Anna, at getting similar entropy/phase transition/ambiguity effect by pure artistic means rather than by using the defects (ambiguity) of pronouns. Also, I'd avoid the clear-cut composition of the text, which starts and ends with the tit-hair problem. Such a standard composition goes against the character of this poem.

You did already a lot of good things in your poem. It's a strong poem. Thank you.

Regards,

Senna Jawa

 

[ishtat]

Title

With a nod of acknowledgment to Senna Jawa the title might be " Titular Entropic Barberism"? .

 

[twelveoone]

get off your ass and finish this, grrrr

 

[annaswirls]

Edit: Ingrown (was Panties in the Sink)

Ingrown

Yes, I confess. I pluck them with angled tweezers, finger-tips.
For some reason, shaving my nipples does not seem right, although
that skinny guy in Philly did it right there in front of me
after our first time. Hell of a thing to wake up to, a naked man
shaving his chest. He started to explain why but I could not start to care.

On day five, his roommate and I were awake
at the same time. Other nights I had heard his snores
over our noises but this time, he had his own girl
on the couch. I heard her come so loud, then she
was suddenly silent and he said,
Wait, baby, come on, don't.
But it was too late, she was sobbing like a little girl.
I know, I know I can't help it! I just can't help it!

There were no dry towels so I wrapped myself
with the clean sheet off the roommate's bunk and was smoking
while my lover washed my panties in the sink.
Roommate's girl was already gone and he sees me
with his sheet and says,

Don’t fucking drink all my Kool-aide.
Sharkle-berry fin. I say to him and give him the finger.
Where's my lighter? It was right there. He scowls
and reaches under my ass to feel for it.
After letting him search, I pick it up
off the side table and hold the flame
under his chin. God how I longed for the smell
of his singed stubble but he stopped me too soon.

Bathroom's free, kids my lover called to us
in a sing-song voice. I stand for my turn
in the shower. From the first morning
I knew this could never last, and sure enough,
a little bump had appeared. There was no hiding
the ingrown hair on my breast.
It was time to move on before he noticed.

 

[SapphicMojo]

If this is not your best...

I thought it was brilliant. The imagery was vivid and the wording concise. I'm unschooled in such things, but I don't think I'd change a single thing, and the title is what initially caught my attention. I loved the bob-and-weave, stick-and-move feel of it; it was every bit as off balance as I am. If this is your version of 'candy floss,' I can't wait to read the rest of your work.

(I'm not counting this as a critique; I just read it and couldn't go forward without commenting.)

 

[annaswirls]

I thought it was brilliant. The imagery was vivid and the wording concise. I'm unschooled in such things, but I don't think I'd change a single thing, and the title is what initially caught my attention. I loved the bob-and-weave, stick-and-move feel of it; it was every bit as off balance as I am. If this is your version of 'candy floss,' I can't wait to read the rest of your work.

(I'm not counting this as a critique; I just read it and couldn't go forward without commenting.)

well dang, thank you SapphicMojo-- I had beaten this poem so hard I could not stand to see its bruises anymore-- thank you for reminding me that it was healing in the corner... waiting me to pick it up, finish it and maybe look for a new home I really appreciate your reading and your comments

 

[HotKittySpank]

Hi - New here and a bit timid about giving critique. My personal feeling is that poetry is personal : )

That said, I will venture forth in the hope that someday you will tear mine apart and make me better.

I agree that it reads a tad juvenile but enjoyed reminicing about my own youth through this. Also, I like free-form but some of this rhymes as well - a little confusing and throws off the tempo. I liked the imagery but found it too wordy. Prune, prune, prune - as you pluck.

for example:

Panties in the Sink

If you must know
I have these little wirey hairs on my tits.
Actually they are not little.
They are long.

(I would have said:

If you must know,
Wirey, little hairs on my tits,
Not little but long.)

Yes I pluck them
with angled tweezers,
finger-tips,
the pain wakes me right up
nipples perk and pink and wanting
their own pinch.

(Again:

Angled tweezers, finger-tips,
Plucking pain wakes me up,
Nipples perk and pink, wanting,
Their own pinch.)

​

It could be erotic if reworked with that feel. So that's my two cents. Hope it helps. --HKS​

 

[The Mystery Valiant]

Regretfully

Ingrown

Yes, I confess. I pluck them with angled tweezers, finger-tips.
For some reason, shaving my nipples does not seem right, although
that skinny guy in Philly did it right there in front of me
after our first time. Hell of a thing to wake up to, a naked man
shaving his chest. He started to explain why but I could not start to care.

On day five, his roommate and I were awake
at the same time. Other nights I had heard his snores
over our noises but this time, he had his own girl
on the couch. I heard her come so loud, then she
was suddenly silent and he said,
Wait, baby, come on, don't.
But it was too late, she was sobbing like a little girl.
I know, I know I can't help it! I just can't help it!

There were no dry towels so I wrapped myself
with the clean sheet off the roommate's bunk and was smoking
while my lover washed my panties in the sink.
Roommate's girl was already gone and he sees me
with his sheet and says,

Don’t fucking drink all my Kool-aide.
Sharkle-berry fin. I say to him and give him the finger.
Where's my lighter? It was right there. He scowls
and reaches under my ass to feel for it.
After letting him search, I pick it up
off the side table and hold the flame
under his chin. God how I longed for the smell
of his singed stubble but he stopped me too soon.

Bathroom's free, kids my lover called to us
in a sing-song voice. I stand for my turn
in the shower. From the first morning
I knew this could never last, and sure enough,
a little bump had appeared. There was no hiding
the ingrown hair on my breast.
It was time to move on before he noticed.

Oh man! I don't want to do this! I liked the original write of the poem as it struck me with it's "look". Although I am a stickler for punctuation, of which it would seem that it's in need of a few more comma's to allow the reader to give pause and breathe while thinking about the last line, stanza or visual you give them, which is great! And I'm far from being a technical writer. The second write is a clearer plot work and it makes some rather intense changes more evident. But I really believe that a mixture of the two may offer the intensity and, the opening of the plot as well. I think the structure in the second post is just too, regulated to give it any strength. I do so like the power of the situation that you offered, and it is a subject left over much, to be thought of in disgust. And yet you made it, "Nipple Hairs", a kind of curiosity and something worth re-thinking. Even kind of a joke. I know your intention was other than that, but people see things with different experiences in their lives. And I think this kind of opens a closer look at others nature, in our social circles. I know this might be a touchy subject, but with the grittiness of the poem should be reflected in the gritty character's involved in the story.When it comes to this line, "over our noises but this time, he had his own girl", it seems to be out of character for the scene you incorporate. Almost innocent. I think that, "girl" should bear a title a little less incongruous. Something that a woman would be more inclined to think when a rival is in the same house, whether with someone else or not. I would figure that her intent would be more colorful. "Bitch", "whore" or "slut", something as "uncaring" for others, as was given before.

And for this line, "God how I longed for the smell of his singed stubble but he stopped me too soon." I would feel stronger about her desire for vengence if you attached the image to the smell..., like "musky" or "gagging". And on the final two words: "too soon". If you didn't get to singe his "stubble", then he stopped you obviously. And then to end it as "too soon" is just stretching the sentence too much. Just some over done clutter. I could do a bit by bit, but then I would be over-bearing. And also stepping on personal creativity. Not a very smart thing to do, as it becomes damaging.

P.S. I forgot..., I have one heck of an idea for your title! As the original, "Panties in the Sink" seemed to make a careless remark, "Ingrown" seems to walk away from the context of the poem. So I just thought, how about something that gives a feeling, or a flavor of the plot and the general atmosphere that you've created. Something along the lines of "wet". It seems as if we're slooging through a thick layer of realism. It's almost dream-like even though it's waking story. "Panties in the Sink", gave us that feeling, but was too subject specific. Kinda like, "Hairs in the Sink" or sumthin'.

 

[EriAliSaa]

Panties in the Sink

A pre-thank you to anyone who reads, comments, etc. I need a title for this.

~anna​

If I might be so bold. I think the orginal plus a small tweek would be a better title than ingrown.

Panties in the Sink: The Hex

But I am a bit weird, feel free to ignore me.​

 

[Cub4ucme]

Lots of letting go... something in the line of "guts"

free voice revealing the strange thoughts that happen
behind the scenes of what is or isn't really happening.


Liked this a...... lot!

cu

 

[Cub4ucme]

The poem is a good one. Not great but good.

It's good because it has guts and a voice that speaks from behind
the scenes. If you want to rework it then make it more honest. Take it
to the next level. Instead of referencing the guy with his hands between
your legs looking for a lighter as if you were talking about looking at a
street sign give up the juice (no pun intended).

Sometimes people wrip things apart to the point of destroying
the original voice of a poem. It's like taking a raw song into
a recording studio and having a hack producer cut it until it sounds
like all the other crap out there.

I know people mean well but, as a writer you have to be
confident in your own voice. There's some critiques here
that make a lot of sense,

Then there's a few that make no sense at all.



cu