Same Title Challenge - Wasted

[wildsweetone]

My stuff is always open season. I have no problem w/ comments. I just suck at giving them. I'm one of the "Oh, wow!" folks. I still don't understand emjambment. lol

you do not suck at giving comments. you are pretty good. with more practise you'll get better. quit trying to avoid the job.

enjambment? isn't that when you stick a lump of wood under the front door to keep it open?

[French enjambement, from Old French enjamber, to straddle : en-, causative pref.; see en-1 + jambe, leg; see jamb.]

or maybe it's something to do with getting a leg over...

which reminds me...

Boo -
Flowers On The Grave

You wasted me
drug me down
I did the tracks
you played 'em

You waylaid me
drug me down
I spent the nights
listening for you

I gave it all
you took it
you showed me how
to cook it

I'd run it up
you'd run me down
I heard your words
all over town

Baby I'm done now
the tracks are gone
I'm here to tell it;
to lay these down

I see your face
in the neighbors kid
I shut my eyes
I said I did

You drug me down
you drug me down
I'm here to tell it
I laid you down
all the way down


I wasted you
I wasted you
my lovey boy
I wasted you

do you think this is complete or will you work on it and build it out some more? i like the hint of the time i get with it. i want to read more about what happened between them, concrete images. you have given me a taste and i want the whole shebang. so, will you write more?

 

[BooMerengue]

you do not suck at giving comments. you are pretty good. with more practise you'll get better. quit trying to avoid the job.

enjambment? isn't that when you stick a lump of wood under the front door to keep it open?

or maybe it's something to do with getting a leg over...

LOL Love your edit!

I will try tomorrow to get the comments going. Anna made a great start and then disappeared. But she's busy; she'll be back.

You're so sweet WSO. I'm glad you joined us over here. Maybe we should start a Poetic Chain Story.

 

[wildsweetone]

Boo, scoot back on up to that other post cos i edited several times and you didn't answer my questions.

 

[wildsweetone]

Time got away from me...and inspiration failed.
...

no problem Miss Oatlash. Time and Inspiration have a way of doing that sometimes.

 

[BooMerengue]

do you think this is complete or will you work on it and build it out some more? i like the hint of the time i get with it. i want to read more about what happened between them, concrete images. you have given me a taste and i want the whole shebang. so, will you write more?

I don't think so. It just depends on what others think of it. I am not good at judging my own work, as proven by some of the high marks I've gotten on stuff I thought silly, and the low marks on some I worked on. It's really more of a lyric than a poem anyway- a ditty, if you will. I enjoyed writing it down and singing it, or humming it, but I don't know whether it has merit enough to take further.

*shrugs Who knows?

but Thank You for asking!

 

[annaswirls]

As far as I'm concerned, if it's posted, it's Open Season. It's out of my hands.

Good title for another STC.

ooh I already have mine done! I knew it sounded familiar

open season

by annaswirls ©

It's these days that follow nights
packed in tight, time condensed
like honey.
It is these days
chemicals battle for dominance
in blood. The dirty fighters win.
and hours until night time stretch
like a mile of hot tar.

These days follow nights
laughing lovers dance around me,
tossing me pennies that have lost their shine.
Alone with patina green
and oxidation brown,
unable to convince myself what I know is true,
lovers will be lovers,
just pick up the change
turn it into tide pool wishes.

I keep cheating
squeezing another verse in between
like paint by numbers
and numbers and numbers,
each step cut in half
I never arrive.

These days I learn I am not
finished with you,
colors have blended to brown
and monochrome my brush.

I need turpentine
gasoline,
some petroleum based
something or other
to dissolve these stains
and start again.

Baby I miss you on my pallet,
we are dried muddled cracked
when rains come
we blur

and I would roll down a long tar mile
to hear you love you know you one more time.

I believed these days were over
but like the crickets
and crocodiles,
the repeating sounds draw me into you
and again,

 

[BrinkOfDoom]

Brinky's Thoughts pt I

wso: This is a nice poem to read aloud, it just sounds good off the tongue. I should tell you, I didn’t see this piece clearly upon my first reading, because I approached it with a linear reading and got the wrong effect. Now, I see ‘Love came so close’ refers to the previous incident of the soul being broken. Ok, but are you looking to leave us in an existential quandry or to push for a view of life(positive or negative)? Verse three leans to the positive, but lines 2.3 and 4.3 are overly negative, line 4.4 leaves it open ended. Personally, I would have liked more certainty from this poet. How to get that? Just write from the heart and be willing to add or subtract flavorful effects(true or slant rhyme, alliteration, etc) as they hamper or enhance the overall piece. Still – as it is, ‘Wasted’ by Wildsweetone is intersting and very readable.

Lauren: I think Lauren’t is the most fun piece readers will find in our whole lot of ‘wasted’ poems, so far. Personally, I first imagined this to be about a photographer who had gone a little heat crazed, but other, many much more interesting interpretations abound. Most interestingly, this poem could be about Rome(64AD) and the emperor who fiddled, who wrote verses and compared it to Troy as he watched from safety. Myriapod, comes from the Latin(albeit through Greece) and suggests ‘many feet’ – many feet suggests an army or a huge organization. The city of colours could be any city, but is there a city more suggestive of orration and poetry than Rome(think eloqunce)? The use of the word ‘design’ is very clever, referring to both architecture and selfish motivations. Nero’s selfish motivation in burning his own city was to design his palace, to sculpt the city as he saw fit – or so some have insinuated. The stamens would represent both male fertility and the seeds of chaos that would lead to modern Rome. But why does Lauren give us the British spelling for ‘colours’? Perhaps our poet king is making a sly allusion to the burning of London just 3 years previously. And that – might be considered stretching things a bit, but I think this writer is smart enough to know she is doing a telling and not a stringent recreation. It amuses me to think that none of my interpretations may have been what Lauren was seeking to portray, so I raise a glass and give a cheer to this fun, exciting poet.

Liar: This starts off very fun and full of verve. It is indeed an enjoyable read, but I personally thought you were self-deprecating in the final two verses. I also wanted to say that ‘Don Q’ may be you all over, but that line feels too compressed to me. I wouldn’t be afraid to bust out a few extra -overly descriptive verses about this online ranter. Portray the ranter as 'wasted', not your own time and efforts – getting in a good dig at someone is a time honored tradition! Don’t give’em an inch!

Champagne1982: Thanks for this, with it’s great language, images, and theme. The final verse seems a little off to me - I mean it looks and reads great, but I was imagining this as a cautionary tale, and it reads well too optimistically for that. As a cautionary tale, if that’s what you intend, ‘pray’ becomes the only indicator that things are off balance. Lines 4.1 and 4.6 really cover up the fear you possibly intended with ‘pray’. Still, this is a beauty to look at and read.

Annaswirls: Wow! What is annaswirls thinking about in this poem? The first two lines are brilliant and provocative of thought. I imagine this poem is about walking into an art museum and having not just an intennse reaction to the art but frustration and realization that she can’t walk into the painting. Well, that’s what I was able to gather from annaswirls efforts. I think it’s lovely.

Boomerengue: What a story, Boo! The final verse shares real insight with the reader, in my opinion. It sounds so real – all this heartache and bad stuff and people really do go on like that in the end, turning it upon themselves. That was a realistic and honest touch. I'l’ sheepishly complain that I don’t like the title or subtitle Flowers on the Grave as I see no connection. I think different people will take to the verses well enough, also, with your imploring to have it read one certain way. I mean I’m not about to go about swaying and being hip, but I think I still found a way to read it. Great tale!

Miss Oatlash: Nice AV! Thanks for communicating what’s up! Hey, it’s not too late to contribute to this thread, but if you’re working on something that’s really tugging at your heart more incessantly, I completely understand. Cool name – look forward to hearing more from you!

Back with more tonight,
BrinkOfDoom!

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Lauren: I think Lauren’t is the most fun piece readers will find in our whole lot of ‘wasted’ poems, so far. Personally, I first imagined this to be about a photographer who had gone a little heat crazed, but other, many much more interesting interpretations abound. Most interestingly, this poem could be about Rome(64AD) and the emperor who fiddled, who wrote verses and compared it to Troy as he watched from safety. Myriapod, comes from the Latin(albeit through Greece) and suggests ‘many feet’ – many feet suggests an army or a huge organization. The city of colours could be any city, but is there a city more suggestive of orration and poetry than Rome(think eloqunce)? The use of the word ‘design’ is very clever, referring to both architecture and selfish motivations. Nero’s selfish motivation in burning his own city was to design his palace, to sculpt the city as he saw fit – or so some have insinuated. The stamens would represent both male fertility and the seeds of chaos that would lead to modern Rome. But why does Lauren give us the British spelling for ‘colours’? Perhaps our poet king is making a sly allusion to the burning of London just 3 years previously. And that – might be considered stretching things a bit, but I think this writer is smart enough to know she is doing a telling and not a stringent recreation. It amuses me to think that none of my interpretations may have been what Lauren was seeking to portray, so I raise a glass and give a cheer to this fun, exciting poet.

Hey, BoD-

You rule. I must say I love the Rome/Nero interpretation, and even if it wasn't the one I had in mind, it hardly matters. I've been experimenting with the injection of some kabbalist elements in my most recent poems, and those thrive on multiple interpretations. Yours was very close to what I had in mind, though, which was - let's just say war (perhaps in general, but not really). Myriapod, design, and stamens were right on, and the eloquent city of colours could be any city, but more likely is every city. The yellow filter can refer to the way cultures and civilisations are glossed over, how different points of view are eliminated when seen through the yellow filter of smoke-saturated air. Ultimately, I think, the poem is about the waste, the disservice to diversity, to humanity, of which so often are guilty poets and chroniclers and politicians. History is what the winners make of it. Etiam periere ruinae. (Just because you mentioned Troy. )

Oh, and I always write in British English, so... colours.

 

[BrinkOfDoom]

Weeeell - I guess everyone's entitled to their own interpretation - who are you? Oh, you wrote it! Well, excellent work, poetess. I do want to mention that in the Nero interp., Nero would most likely be waxing poetic, seeing the consuming flames as a filter for everything he disliked, the populace, the crowded housing... Perhaps you were subconsciously thinking of Nero and his legend - do you watch too many documentarys, lots of PBS?

Well in support of my photographer interp. I thought myriapod was slightly lovecraftian - is this out of the necronomicon one wonders? Burnt city in the stars? Stamens from yugoth? Ah, I should have quit while I was ahead. There was also a ginko tree that bloomed after Hiroshima, I had also considered you were going for something like that, but then got caught on the Nero track. Thanks so much for the 'real' details! Do more great writing, ok!

BrinkOfDoom!!!

 

[BrinkOfDoom]

Brinky's Thoughts pt. II

Echoes_s: Very nice! This is a fine flurry, an all out launch of thoughts and energy.. I’m not liking the construction of ‘misdeeds into innocent bystanders’, because I think it means what it most simply implys - in which case it just sounds wrong to my ear, but if you have a more poetic intention, then all is groovy. Great start to the poem and a perfect ending!

Tzara: Great poems – great writing. You obviously have great ability. ‘wasted’ and ‘was ted’ – how funny, flipsides of the same poet! One restrained and pretty, the other one brave and unleashed! What can I say? I enjoyed learning about baseball through you, I’m reminded that things like sports have their own deep lore. And I at first liked ‘wasted’ more, but after Wikipediaing Koch, Ted, and James, I really appreciate what you did with ‘Was Ted’. It’s been fun for this reader to see your numbers used in this poem housed in Wikipedia as well! Great ideas you get, Tzara – continue being true to yourself, your heart, your visions, your instincts. They’re working real well! Oh, and I'll definitely be looking for Kenneth Koch at the bookstores!

The Fool: This poem reminds me of a really good independent movie, really wry, stilted humor, but something deep underneath.

Pat Carrington: I think this poem represents a man with wasted ideals. It gets real fun when you start considering what ‘sunbeams’ might represent – youth, inspiration, friends, hopes, dreams? Perhaps they are in fact just sunbeams and this fisherman hasn’t had a bite in ages? It sounds like he’s on the verge of a new way of thinking and it sounds like he’s opting for a path of darkness. This is a difficult read, I thought dashes would have been helpful at ends of lines 3.5 and 4.4, but heck I’m just guessing wildly. I think he’s choosing to join the burglars(or their mode of thinking) because you introduce the logic puzzle of ‘bed or grave’ - what leads to the bed and which to the grave: being one to arrest or being one to join in with the debauching? With all this said, what lovely visions are conjured! I’m reminded of Steve Perry singing “lights’.

Sandspike: Very fun, very relaxing to read.

Bluerains: Thank you for some wondrous writing, Bluerains! I have to report that my brain stumbled on ‘Tomorrow peace may come’, I would have wished this italicized – well, I didn’t gather the way it was being said. That’s not irony, what is it? I’m sorry, my brain’s toast at this point, but excellent work, that last verse is intense.

Tolyk: Dah! I liked the earlier more raw version. Though my sensibilities say lose the last line. It feels like surplus, superfluous – anyway all that is implied by your powerful title, um just try to forget 20 other poetry fiends also share this title, ok?

Belegon: I love this! But – I think it has more promise than the teensy state it’s in currently. ‘Crazy life’ sounds fine, but are you content with that? This poem feels smart and really drew me in.

Reltne: And now for something completely different… This should be capable of invoking a big smile from anyone. Pretty cool, Reltne!

BrinkOfDoom! (say that like 'Pigs in Space')

 

[BrinkOfDoom]

Dah!

I have to give a nod to BrinkOfDoom, who has the audacity to riff on Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice. Pretty ballsy, that, and to my ear not bad.

Well done, sir.

This will keep me afloat for weeks, thank you T to the Z! It's supposed to be a Spenserian stanza, but I couldn't bring myself to do a hexameter in the final line. Banish me from the realm!!! Actually, I'd been hoping to do a longer bit about both the Prince of Aragon and the Moroccan Prince, but, erm - laziness struck! Yes, Shakespeare rules! My poem is much enhanced by his words 'blinking idiot'. Oh, and I hope the answer to my question is obvious to all my readers, people like Aragon aren't given a second thought by girls like Portia... If he had listened to TLC maybe he wouldn't have gone chasing waterfalls!

BrinkO'Doom!

 

[tolyk]

Tolyk: Dah! I liked the earlier more raw version. Though my sensibilities say lose the last line. It feels like surplus, superfluous – anyway all that is implied by your powerful title, um just try to forget 20 other poetry fiends also share this title, ok?

Blame Belegon for the editted version *egrin* (Thanks again Bel)

Thank you for the kind words though. I'm not much of a poet, just like to play at being one As for the last line being superfluous, I agree.. but I also feel that it's worth restating. Repetition can be used to give a topic more power.. (Or something like that)

Thanks again BoD

 

[wildsweetone]

wso: This is a nice poem to read aloud, it just sounds good off the tongue. I should tell you, I didn’t see this piece clearly upon my first reading, because I approached it with a linear reading and got the wrong effect. Now, I see ‘Love came so close’ refers to the previous incident of the soul being broken. Ok, but are you looking to leave us in an existential quandry or to push for a view of life(positive or negative)? Verse three leans to the positive, but lines 2.3 and 4.3 are overly negative, line 4.4 leaves it open ended. Personally, I would have liked more certainty from this poet. How to get that? Just write from the heart and be willing to add or subtract flavorful effects(true or slant rhyme, alliteration, etc) as they hamper or enhance the overall piece. Still – as it is, ‘Wasted’ by Wildsweetone is intersting and very readable.

Brinky, you are so not going to disappear. You have insight in this and comments on other poet's work that shows me you know and understand what you are talking about. Thank you for sharing your knowledge.

 

[champagne1982]

Champagne1982: Thanks for this, with it’s great language, images, and theme. The final verse seems a little off to me - I mean it looks and reads great, but I was imagining this as a cautionary tale, and it reads well too optimistically for that. As a cautionary tale, if that’s what you intend, ‘pray’ becomes the only indicator that things are off balance. Lines 4.1 and 4.6 really cover up the fear you possibly intended with ‘pray’. Still, this is a beauty to look at and read.

Thanks for taking the time with such considerate comments on these poems, this is an admirable effort.
The waste I was touching on in this poem was that of wasted effort:

• wasted science that builds and explodes weapons,
• wasted money that is squandered on fuel and material, sending man into space, and
• wasted souls, lost in the search for purpose, either universally or more locally, here at home.

The strophe in question -

Sow our seeds
through deep space.
Pray they fall
on a newborn Earth,
designed by man,
blueprints by God.​

I don't know if that explains where this verse pops in, but I just can't help but think that even though the atom bomb is a waste and lays waste to all it touches, man has squandered our planet, wasting even more and that God has wasted a universe on us, maybe a fresh start would be a better use of resources.

 

[Tzara]

Sow our seeds
through deep space.
Pray they fall
on a newborn Earth,
designed by man,
blueprints by God

This strophe reminds me of panspermia, in particular of Crick and Orgel's theory/proposal of directed panspermia.

One of the delights of reading is that written works, especially poems, are like Rorschach tests--we project our own images, backgrounds, etc. onto something that the author may have had a very different idea about. Reading the comments in this thread have been very interesting, in part because of that.

 

[BooMerengue]

WSO?? I really dropped the ball on this one, and I'm sorry. When Katrina hit She got my full attention. I'm making arrangements today for Disaster Relief Training with the Red Cross, and leaving for Gulfport as soon as possible afterwards. And then on to New Orleans to try and help in the rebuilding.

I'll still be able to access these boards, but I'm going to be distracted for quite awhile.

Keep on with the Challenges. As proven by this challenge, they really bring the best out in everyone. Theres not a bad poem here.

 

[sandspike]

I thought everyone did well.....

except impressive, who did very very very well.

Wasted

Tokin' female -
boilermaker bitch trippin'
over salty tongues of tequila
basted breath; the worm
squirmin' as kamikaze kisses
rock the cash bar.

Liquor, lick 'er,
never been sicker
of trash talkin' bicker
in a cold cunt's daquiri dreams

The elder bury whine
'neath the burning blunts,
and a slower gin fizzles
through the crushed ice tease.

In toxic, hated prisons
the bong blows peyote prisms
across fade dead to black
and blue bawled reign bows.

Can a bliss haze
blanket mimosa memories
until tomorrow is burned
out and blasted back
to fresh fleshed free fall
fucking?

Want not the wasted knot
of a weed whirled whore -
strung out hash gash
drifting through a long lost life.
__________________

 

[impressive]

except impressive, who did very very very well.

TY ... and thanks to those who commented earlier, here or via PC or PM.

 

[wildsweetone]

WSO?? I really dropped the ball on this one, and I'm sorry. When Katrina hit She got my full attention. I'm making arrangements today for Disaster Relief Training with the Red Cross, and leaving for Gulfport as soon as possible afterwards. And then on to New Orleans to try and help in the rebuilding.

I'll still be able to access these boards, but I'm going to be distracted for quite awhile.

Keep on with the Challenges. As proven by this challenge, they really bring the best out in everyone. Theres not a bad poem here.

you're a sweet lady Boo, inside and out, and i love you. remember to take good care of your self while you are taking care of others. and if it's possible, keep in touch.

 

[tolyk]

So, I was curious... should I submit my challenge entry?

 

[Jennifer C]

you're a sweet lady Boo, inside and out, and i love you. remember to take good care of your self while you are taking care of others. and if it's possible, keep in touch.

Second that! Be safe and well Boo

 

[wildsweetone]

We started off grand;
love was all around.
Then things began to settle,
become routine.
Passion faded and the true tests began.

Together we stood through
Years of hardships;
Hours spent just talking
through our troubles.

Only the happy memories
held us together

Memories faded away
left with brutal reality
nothing remained

Reconcile? We ask.
Reconcile what?
Nothing's left, it all washed away

Why must it have all been
wasted?

if you feel that your poem is at a point where you won't change anything, then by all means submit it.

if you want more feedback on it, hmm have you tried the 'not for the thin-skinned thread'?

 

[tolyk]

Might as well try it.. what can it hurt? I have no poetic pride (Have you _seen_ my writings? )



Oh, have to mention this to you WSO.. I was offered a job as a photographer recently A customer at my current job knew I was into photography, he just wants to see a sample of my work and I will be starting as a photographer *GRIN*


By the way, I noticed Still Pond won something, congratulations! I have a better version of that picture now if you want to see it some time

 

[wildsweetone]

Might as well try it.. what can it hurt? I have no poetic pride (Have you _seen_ my writings? )



Oh, have to mention this to you WSO.. I was offered a job as a photographer recently A customer at my current job knew I was into photography, he just wants to see a sample of my work and I will be starting as a photographer *GRIN*


By the way, I noticed Still Pond won something, congratulations! I have a better version of that picture now if you want to see it some time

be thick skinned going in there okay? it's constructive criticism about the writing. it's good.

CONGRATULATIONS! on the photography work! that's great news! *hugs*

i'd love to see the new version of the Still Pond picture.

 

[tolyk]

They're in the Picture This Poem Challenge thread.