Double Blind 4 - Poems and Critiques Only

[Lyricalli]

DB4-3: Ballaban and Sons, Green Grocers - GuiltyPleasure

Ballaban and Sons, Green Grocers

Sudden rain and the big drops
sound like something more solid
as they hit the awning overhead.

Mister Balleban has garlic breath
and I bend over the yellow mass
of stacked bananas to avoid it
as he expounds on the new batch
of elephant garlic.

He’s a lovely man I’ve known since
my schooldays but he is In the twilight
of his life and often forgets my name,
sucking on his teeth as he wracks his aging
brain making a soft sound like a roosting flock
of drowsy starlings.

My name pops up and his smile
is beautiful, both pleasure and relief.
I pay for my kale and cherries and,
of course, my elephant garlic and
step out into the newly washed street.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

My money's on GM. The ending is clever.

 

[Magnetron]

There are too many "and"s and most if not all "like"s should be dispensed with.

I rewrote the entire poem in a few minutes with less "and"s and no "like"s.

I also managed to explain how he had garlic breath without mentioning the word "garlic" twice.

But I'm not going to post a rewrite and steal opportunities to improve it.

Words in bold are not necessary.

Ballaban and Sons, Green Grocers

Sudden rain and the big drops
sound like something more solid
as they hit the awning overhead.

Mister Balleban has garlic breath
and I bend over the yellow mass
of stacked bananas to avoid it
as he expounds on the new batch
of elephant garlic.

He’s a lovely man I’ve known since
my schooldays but he is In the twilight
of his life and often forgets my name,
sucking on his teeth as he wracks his aging
brain making a soft sound like a roosting flock
of drowsy starlings.

My name pops up and his smile
is beautiful, both pleasure and relief.
I pay for my kale and cherries and,
of course, my elephant garlic and
step out into the newly washed street.

Why not have him say your name as he rings up your order?




All this poem needs is some TLC.

 

[greenmountaineer]

My money's on GM. The ending is clever.

It's not mine, but I'm flattered you think it is.

 

[greenmountaineer]

There's a subtle musical quality about this I like.

Even though written in the present tense, it felt nostalgic to me, as if the poet was remembering and using the present tense to make the memory more vivid. I liked that, intended or not.

I like portraiture in a poem, provided that it alludes to something greater than the person. In that regard, I thought the last line, as AH noted, indeed was very clever. At first, I thought the stanza needed a few more lines, but the more I thought about it, its elegance is in the simplicity of it.

 

[legerdemer]

My apologies to the writer of the second poem - I missed the window to critique it. Not that it needs much. I read it as a poem being told about an event that I do not know (I seem to be missing whatever attracts folks to Stephen King) and it did keep my interest through most of it (yes, kinda lost me there at the end). The fishing village references misled me at first on the author. I know better now...

 

[legerdemer]

Regarding DB3 - still late... late for a very important date... oh, where was I?

It's a lovely poem, and I agree about the last line (!!) and the musical quality.

I also agree with Mags that it needs pruning and shaping (a bit like one of those bush animals in formal gardens - there's a name for them that escapes me now).

With apologies to and indulgence of the author, below are some suggestions and comments:


Sudden rain and the big drops
sound [like something] more solid [unnecessary]
as they hit the awning overhead. I would consider getting rid of 'overhead,' or if kept, moving it before awning - because there is a near-rhyme almost between solid and awning that sounds good to my ears...ymmv

Mister Balleban has garlic breath
[and] I bend over the [yellow] mass
of stacked bananas to avoid it
as he expounds on the new batch
of elephant garlic.

He’s a lovely man I’ve known since
my schooldays [but he is], now in the twilight
of his life and often forgets my name,
sucking on his teeth as he wracks his aging
brain, making a soft sound like a roosting flock - a comma is needed after brain, otherwise the brain may be the one making the sound
of drowsy starlings.

My name pops up and his smile
is beautiful, both pleasure and relief.
I pay for my kale and cherries and,
of course, my elephant garlic and
step out into the newly washed street.

Two edits: ...I bend over the stack of bananas... sounds better to me (I think Mags suggested something similar)

And: I would slightly rewrite the third line of the penultimate stanza as

of his life. He often forgets my name,

 

[Magnetron]

I also agree with Mags that it needs pruning and shaping (a bit like one of those bush animals in formal gardens - there's a name for them that escapes me now).

topiary

 

[legerdemer]

topiary

Ah, yes! Thank you! (I get really sad when I lose words...makes senility seem much closer than I'd like it to be.)

 

[Magnetron]

(I seem to be missing whatever attracts folks to Stephen King)

It's known as the Bejesus.

He scares it out of those of us who have it.

 

[Trixareforkids]

It's known as the Bejesus.

He scares it out of those of us who have it.

LMAO, oh please please please write the Bejesus poem!

 

[champagne1982]

POEM #1

The Whiskey Effect (The Barfly Effect another nod to pop culture)
...
and tired
as tropes (I like the word usage. It made me stop and associate, "jokes, trollops, << dunno why, and trite)
...
say what it is
and what it ain't (tighten it up by cutting the conjunction, you have a line break that does this work for you and I don't think the voice of the poem needs the enjambment)
...
What you see
is what I got
and all I want
is company (I like this bit, it's like a refrain and in a song bears repeating)
for the night
or the week
or the month
...
keeping me mellow
and making me cuss (such a dichotomy. It just oozes frustration with the rut)
...
trying to buy me drinks
with umbrellas

But it's raining men (Hallelujah! Yeah, I caught the reference. This is so cool and well considered)
...

All in, loved the poem. Couldn't possibly guess who wrote it.

 

[legerdemer]

That I think I have several doses too many - I can't watch Hitchcock movies whose ending I know because of the suspense...


Oops, sorry!

It's known as the Bejesus.

He scares it out of those of us who have it.

 

[champagne1982]

POEM #2

A Tale of Little Tall Untold (an apt title since there are a lot of "tell" lines in this poem.)
...
with quiet unease (this is an example of a tell line. The poet is "telling" the reader how that falling snow is supposed to make people feel.)

begins to fill in our globe (trim the tell line above and let the reader decide if this makes him feel uneasy and trapped)
...
blanketing the fisheries
soaked in sun bleach (keep this, it is stronger imagery than "and accumulates" which is an unnecessary line I think)
...
I only read further on since I felt I should give this poem a full on chance of making me want to read more. I finished it. What follows is only my opinion. I am only one view so please don't let what I say or don't, decide the fate of your words. They are yours and only YOU can determine what you do with them.

I sincerely believe the poet could use so many more poetic devices to make the tale memorable. Perhaps reading a few epic poems that build atmosphere through the use of tangible rhythm and pacing changes, embedded rhyme, "effective repetition" meaning not to tell us something again for the sake of telling it but to make us anxiously anticipate the change to something new, will help the person understand what I mean.

It's a good story but not quite to my personal taste in poems.

 

[Trixareforkids]

POEM #1

The Whiskey Effect (The Barfly Effect another nod to pop culture)
...
say what it is
and what it ain't (tighten it up by cutting the conjunction, you have a line break that does this work for you and I don't think the voice of the poem needs the enjambment)
...

All in, loved the poem. Couldn't possibly guess who wrote it.

I love that suggestion, the original title was Drinking With The Boys, an allusion to all the whiskeys with men's names but I obviously wasn't enamored with it either. Your suggestion rolls it up nicely for me.

I'll take your next suggestion in with the others and incorporate what works for my ear into the final.

I'm a bit taken aback by the reaction to this one, I honestly expected it to be ripped a new one as it was a quick write for a comp on another site. I want to thank you all for your responses which will help me tweak it and has helped me appreciate it. all around.

 

[greenmountaineer]

I love that suggestion, the original title was Drinking With The Boys, an allusion to all the whiskeys with men's names but I obviously wasn't enamored with it either. Your suggestion rolls it up nicely for me.

I'll take your next suggestion in with the others and incorporate what works for my ear into the final.

I'm a bit taken aback by the reaction to this one, I honestly expected it to be ripped a new one as it was a quick write for a comp on another site. I want to thank you all for your responses which will help me tweak it and has helped me appreciate it. all around.

A liittle like closhing the barn door after the horsh ran away, Trix, but the firsht poet I thoush of (I'm slurring my words after my 3rd glash of Chardonnay) re-reading "The Whishkey Effect" wash you, although I shtill maintain if the whishkey effect wash ash intended "poem" or maybe "poop" inshtead of "trope" would have been the besht a barfly could have muttered

Great-hiccup-poem!

 

[Trixareforkids]

A liittle like closhing the barn door after the horsh ran away, Trix, but the firsht poet I thoush of (I'm slurring my words after my 3rd glash of Chardonnay) re-reading "The Whishkey Effect" wash you, although I shtill maintain if the whishkey effect wash ash intended "poem" or maybe "poop" inshtead of "trope" would have been the besht a barfly could have muttered

Great-hiccup-poem!

This made me

Having never met my mother I could see where you might maintain your stance on trope, but I had to listen to her wax on for fucking hours after the bar closed (or kicked her out) and no matter how deep in her cups she was her vocabulary was never effected and only ever slightly slurred. We had a two tome encyclopedic dictionary that was her favorite thing in the world. Her favorite pastimes was to pick a word and follow the trail to see how far it took her before eventually circling back.

 

[greenmountaineer]

A liittle like closhing the barn door after the horsh ran away, Trix, but the firsht poet I thoush of (I'm slurring my words after my 3rd glash of Chardonnay) re-reading "The Whishkey Effect" wash you, although I shtill maintain if the whishkey effect wash ash intended "poem" or maybe "poop" inshtead of "trope" would have been the besht a barfly could have muttered

Great-hiccup-poem!

This made me

Having never met my mother I could see where you might maintain your stance on trope, but I had to listen to her wax on for fucking hours after the bar closed (or kicked her out) and no matter how deep in her cups she was her vocabulary was never effected and only ever slightly slurred. We had a two tome encyclopedic dictionary that was her favorite thing in the world. Her favorite pastimes was to pick a word and follow the trail to see how far it took her before eventually circling back.

I just showed this sequence to my wife whose mother had a narcissistic personality disorder and a way with words and song. (She actually sang a few Irish bar songs in duet with then Chief Justice Rhenquist at a summer garden party once.) My wife prefers "trope" too and said "no more Chardonnay tonight for you, gm."

Seriously, great poem; one of your best.

 

[Magnetron]

I love that suggestion, the original title was Drinking With The Boys, an allusion to all the whiskeys with men's names but I obviously wasn't enamored with it either. Your suggestion rolls it up nicely for me.

I'll take your next suggestion in with the others and incorporate what works for my ear into the final.

I'm a bit taken aback by the reaction to this one, I honestly expected it to be ripped a new one as it was a quick write for a comp on another site. I want to thank you all for your responses which will help me tweak it and has helped me appreciate it. all around.

Omg be rest assured that you will never be suspected of any serial killings because you would rack up a body count of one before caving in and saying "It was me It was me !!!"

 

[ishtat]

Ballaban and Sons, Green Grocers

Sudden rain and the big drops
sound like something more solid
as they hit the awning overhead.

Mister Balleban has garlic breath
and I bend over the yellow mass
of stacked bananas to avoid it
as he expounds on the new batch
of elephant garlic.

He’s a lovely man I’ve known since
my schooldays but he is In the twilight
of his life and often forgets my name,
sucking on his teeth as he wracks his aging
brain making a soft sound like a roosting flock
of drowsy starlings.

My name pops up and his smile
is beautiful, both pleasure and relief.
I pay for my kale and cherries and,
of course, my elephant garlic and
step out into the newly washed street.

A flock of flying starlings is called a murmuration. A beautiful word - wonder if you could wheedle it in.

 

[AlwaysHungry]

A flock of flying starlings is called a murmuration. A beautiful word - wonder if you could wheedle it in.

Good call.

 

[Lyricalli]

My apologies to the writer of the second poem - I missed the window to critique it. Not that it needs much. I read it as a poem being told about an event that I do not know (I seem to be missing whatever attracts folks to Stephen King) and it did keep my interest through most of it (yes, kinda lost me there at the end). The fishing village references misled me at first on the author. I know better now...

You can still critique a poem outside its window, though I think it's preferable to do so towards the end of the window for the current poem, when comments have slowed. As in the Pirates of the Caribbean (hi Mags!) the rules are more like guidelines.

 

[Lyricalli]

DB4-4: A Little Like LSD - todski28

A Little Like LSD

Two drops of metallic
gelcoe power
taste like licking batteries
the tingle of
exhilaration,
as conjecture and empathy
merge into one being
dipped in acid
the party in my mouth spreads...

the sky is starry night
black swirls into blue
white light beacons are burning
pyres of sanities flames

we grip each other
as if
we are the anchors to reality
and bridges to the cosmos
her jacket feels like sex on my finger tips
like my hand is having an orgy on
ripples of fabric

there is a dragon between her teeth
it's coal like glow brightens
plumes of smoke and decadence
spill from her soft lips like
clouds converging in a storm

her tongue flickers
serpent like
tasting vibrations in the air
she hisses in
and exhales twisting ropes of lust
I cough as it dives deep into my lungs
I breathe out and she dances in my mouth
devouring my awe
bekoning
the belt buckle at my waist
to fall away

we defy gravity
flying
in flash-blur-swirls
she wraps around me
as real as dreams that drift
on the wind and hide within

a tumultuous
writhing mass of shifting shadows
flashing blurry brilliance
behind my retinas
the air a cacophony
of our gasping breaths

we are lycanthropic
and vampiric
existing on the sustenance of aura
and passion
feeding off of sensation
striving to be lost in those little deaths

buried in this primodial
moment
of strobe light effect

I am affected
by her pliable warmth
her willingness to devour
all I offer
and to show me there are no limits to
pleasure

as slick as oils
fragranced in skin and salts
an alarm blares

we await the night
where we are the centre of the universe

 

[Magnetron]

My only quibble is with the plethora of plurality in

pyres of sanities flames

And primodial should be primordial.

Everything chaotic as is works in favor of tripping on LSD, whereas as a structured format would not.

But ...... BUT, I think the lines are too choppy; they could benefit from running on a bit to give it a more breathless sense of not being able to keep up with everything happening, transforming, mixing, merging and receding.

 

[greenmountaineer]

My only quibble is with the plethora of plurality in

pyres of sanities flames

And primodial should be primordial.

Everything chaotic as is works in favor of tripping on LSD, whereas as a structured format would not.

But ...... BUT, I think the lines are too choppy; they could benefit from running on a bit to give it a more breathless sense of not being able to keep up with everything happening, transforming, mixing, merging and receding.

I'm guessing it was meant to be an adjective as in "pyres of sanity's flames."