Thunderstruck

[HotKittySpank]

girlish giggles encompass me
as i run up against these walls
they break me into peal upon peal,
surround me laughter
bubbled up to brace against my impact

 

[HotKittySpank]

we are no longer crystal cups ringing
wet fingers circled, singing us, into
reverberations of the other, sometimes
overflowed, liquid dripped down

these sides, caressed us into vibrations
concentric harmonies. at times, just a little
bit of fine wine defined us, lips encircled
in an oh, changing tones

with each sip
each lost drip

my finger still spins along this edge
sharp notes sent singing outward
the melody bleeding sweetly without
that harmonious accompaniment

lips sealed in the humming of these
lost notes, the promises of things that
will never come, play along the skin
of this cup that was in overflow

 

[HotKittySpank]

how do you catch the wisp
a whip and not feel sting
hear the sonic boom it brings
without the reel of pain

how do you skate the edge
a slender blade cut into ice
without a fall through the pond
to drown on the choice you made

how do you hold the smoke
an inkling puff which burns eye
without singe to your heart
to see the bonfire it arises from

 

[HotKittySpank]

weight of avalanche
on my back, threatening
shoulders bent beneath her

just a whoop
a scream, a shout
my howl out loud
will make her drop

roaring toward me
intensely devouring
chewing her way down
grinding

rocks, branches, ice
claiming skin
claiming bones
claiming blood

her
wanting that sacrifice

mixed across the white
landscapes, a blur
in fatal motion

my smear upon
perfection

 

[HotKittySpank]

...
/
...

 

[TheRainMan]

i am the string she pulls her pearls upon
the knotted line stopping, breaks between
each one holding the place on my
silken thread until the next one comes

strung along with promises of pearls
i knot myself between each one, breaking
down until she comes again, pulling
pearls in place along my silken tongue

my tongue in knots with her promises
of pearls that will not come, i break
again slipping down this silken string
finally, i am spilling her pearls again

a broken string stooped to pick them up
the pearls rolling on the floor around me
pulling me down to catch their promises
i am knotted in stitches at the irony

assuming you still want feedback (i see you removed that request from your sig line . . . if you don't, just say so) --

you are not in control of the language in this poem, it is in control of you.

for instance, the word "pearls" (and that is not the only word, just one example) is in the poem 6 times . . . 10 or maybe more, if you count its pronoun replacements.

 

[HotKittySpank]

assuming you still want feedback (i see you removed that request from your sig line . . . if you don't, just say so) --

you are not in control of the language in this poem, it is in control of you.

for instance, the word "pearls" (and that is not the only word, just one example) is in the poem 6 times . . . 10 or maybe more, if you count its pronoun replacements.

yes, yes, please sir! people read my sig line?! : ) its just that not a lot of 'advice' comes round sometimes - i'm on my knees begging here... i honestly have no idea what i'm doing.
however,
you are correct that it is consuming me - it is clawing its way out and sometimes i just have to spill it before i pop.

so, the advice would be... time, space, new words to say the same thing? i know it was rough - (but then again, aren't all the things that just fall out of my mouth without a second, considering thought? ; )

hugs and another tipped head. --hks

 

[HotKittySpank]

i am the queen

of recycling
plastic bags,
shredded paper,
glass bottles,
Good-Will stores,
my love for you,
renewed once more,

melted down,
turned around,
then remade
in some other form.

 

[HotKittySpank]

...
/
...

 

[wildsweetone]

he smiles with those dollar sign eyes
slipping quarters in the slot, one right after another
pulling the leaver hard, watching fruit spin
screaming, 'yeah baby, yeah! who's your daddy girl?'
thinking i'll be a winner, i'll make money off you yet
no more cost centers anymore, i'll place my bet
come on lady luck, spill your green across my hand

...

i'd like to see this one with different line breaks.

also with less 'ing' words.

want to have a fiddle and see what you can come up with?

 

[HotKittySpank]

i am the string she pulls her pearls upon
the knotted line stopping, breaks between
each one place holds a space on this silken thread

until the next one comes

i am strung along with promises of these
twisting myself between each one, breaking

down until she appears again
to pull these delectable things across

until then, i slip down this string
desperately hung on fraying threads,
dreams of crystal balls and swirling globes

when suddenly
i am spilling these orbs again

but by then i am a broken string, snapped
reaching down to catch these promises

bitter words rolling on the floor around me
she finds me knotted in stitches at the irony


...
better?
...

 

[HotKittySpank]

...
/
...

 

[champagne1982]

he smiles those dollar sign eyes
hand slipped quarters fed into your slot,
one right after another

all hard lever pulls, fruit spun wager screams

'yeah baby, yeah! who's your daddy girl?'

he is the wager player big winner
he will make if off you yet hot shot,
i'll place my bet

come on luck, be a lady
shake your money maker

...
... now i feel like it is getting worse.. no 'ings' though : ) i take it that is another rule i should follow?
and the idea has changed --ugh, that's how it goes...

Well, hello.
Here's a little bit of my take over 'ing' words. I loved to use them because they seem to fill a multipurpose slot in my vocabulary, and they're easy to rhyme, too.

But, they're commonly called gerunds and in poetry will usually sound a death knell for a favourable review. Gerunds encourage passive voice aka 'Yoda-speak'; Speeding down the road went the thief. and indicates a radical realignment of words and grammar just to fit the right word for an end rhyme.

A couple of gerunds and an occassional slip into the passive voice can be effective if used by a person who understands exactly what devices they're using but there's a popular view here that kind of draws a rule about rules. "Rules should only be broken by those who understand and can follow the rules."

To address what's happened to your poem. I think what's gone a bit haywire on you is that you've robbed your lines of their immediacy by switching point of view. You have gone to 3rd person objective from 1st person involved.

Your personality seems swallowed now. My suggestion would be to write the first version without punctuation or line breaks. Then, read it aloud and make a slash where you naturally stop to breathe, these will become your line breaks. Does that help the form of the poem by adding some significance to your end words?

Once you have the structure built to your own satisfaction, maybe highlight the spoken phrases through italics. This will allow you to place them without concern over proper grammar and sentence structure, this is poetry after all.

Now, edit away the verb tenses that can cause confusion in the reader as to if the word is a gerund or an infinitive.

Maybe you'll have a better poem, it's all in how you want it to be though. My ideas are not neccessarily the best ideas for your poem and you should always feel free to use or discard any advice freely offered on this forum.

I enjoy reading your progress. Thankyou for sharing your poetry.

 

[HotKittySpank]

oh, go on... school me, PLEASE! speak these words freely, right now i am a sponge - my forehead is on the ground to you people. this is exactly what i am looking for, ahhhhhh. thx. --

 

[HotKittySpank]

whiskers elicit giggles
bubbled up against prickled chin grins
which sets them off again
such wonderful chain reactions
again, and again, and again


(heavy lifting from remec and s&d) ; )
...

 

[HotKittySpank]

i am the string she pulls her pearls upon
the knotted line stopped
breaks between each one place holds a space
along this silken thread until the next one comes

i am strung along with promises of these
twisted between each one

broken down until she appears again
to pull these delicacies across

until then i slip down this string
desperately hung on frayed threads
in dream of crystal balls and twirled globes

when suddenly i spill these orbs again

but then i am the broken string, snapped
stooped to catch these delicious things

bitter words swirl around the floor
she finds me knotted in stitches at the irony

 

[HotKittySpank]

thunderstruck frozen in the knowledge
of forked trails i found a pleasing distraction
my skirt caught light as it played on air

to ignore distractions, hear
wolves that prowl with pack calls
i catch glimpses through trees
a wary eye on storms approach
the compass spins as i follow crumbs

howls in the wood pace me, push indecision
how did i become lost along the way
too busy bowed to wind whipped choices
consideration of light dappled skirts aswirl

i turn to discover comfort in wolves beside me
find my way
follow trails to mirrors and mysteries
familiar spaces within these new faces
recognize the wolf that howls in me


(this one just sucks, no way around it. i don't even feel this way anymore)
...needs to be finished and buried, to wash my hands of it

 

[HotKittySpank]

once upon the sea - 1

of this song’s chest crushing blows breached tales arise
i know the lilt of her lullaby
of gentle giants brutal gleaned for my ancestral lamplight

home, she beckons me with mournful song
we two met once along this surface of air and airless, breathless we
in songs of battles waged between giants along two world’s divide

i wait on deck; the lone spout gazer
from spawning water she thrusts to dare her daughter’s saucer-eye
at surface we meet over hull’s edge
my sole arm in reach

that scrimshaw gift strung around my father’s neck willed to me
your blood, your tale land-bound daughter, we of ancient mariners
learn the sea, learn your history of wild hunts over waters

filled with sorrow’s song she knows the depths and pulls
those tides of darkness cold and haunted
of bones in graveyards cloaked
blue mysteries are sewn across these waters

hear her sing that life beyond our grasp
of memories passed hopeful to new children in the murky deep

her blue world gifted calls my reach toward her child’s eye
as aliens from the floating sky we too meet along waved surface
view our shared history and renew acquaintance

once upon the sea

 

[TheRainMan]

...
better?
...

yes.

your attempts at improvements are obvious. so is your hard work.

good for you.

of this song’s chest crushing blows breached tales arise
i know the lilt of her lullaby
of gentle giants brutal gleaned for my ancestral lamplight

home, she beckons me with mournful song
we two met once along this surface of air and airless, breathless we
in songs of battles waged between giants along two world’s divide

i wait on deck; the lone spout gazer
from spawning water she thrusts to dare her daughter’s saucer-eye
at surface we meet over hull’s edge
my sole arm in reach

that scrimshaw gift strung around my father’s neck willed to me
your blood, your tale land-bound daughter, we of ancient mariners
learn the sea, learn your history of wild hunts over waters

filled with sorrow’s song she knows the depths and pulls
those tides of darkness cold and haunted
of bones in graveyards cloaked
blue mysteries are sewn across these waters

hear her sing that life beyond our grasp
of memories passed hopeful to new children in the murky deep

her blue world gifted calls my reach toward her child’s eye
as aliens from the floating sky we too meet along waved surface
view our shared history and renew acquaintance

once upon the sea

you're a regular person.

so is the reader . . . most of them, anyway.

try a voice that talks more like a regular person, instead of what you think a poet should talk like.

 

[HotKittySpank]

you're a regular person.

so is the reader . . . most of them, anyway.

try a voice that talks more like a regular person, instead of what you think a poet should talk like.

many thanks for peeking at my stuff again. believe it or not, i think i still have the original of this thing lying around some place, it sometimes comes out just like that. weird, even to me.

ok, make it regular... that's a hard thing for me : )

...

 

[HotKittySpank]

nectar collector


it is only a matter of time till nectar collected turns,
till chewed spit becomes wax, and that to little containers filled
with sweet labors in wait of hungry mouths.

it is only a matter of time before those mouths chew
through to suck upon their barreled feast, become the next wave
of bees droning after their queen, give chase to her
twitching body dancing of directions toward that
sweet spot the nectar pulled from, toward flowers
pulled up from ground to put it in containers.

it is only a matter of time before hands that pull
the comb get stung, as all faceless marauders should.

 

[HotKittySpank]

we wear black to show
our tradition of death, pay respect
to mourners. we don drab in reflection of end.

in China they wear white to go
in floating lines as ghosts in procession
toward fields of bones. and red is for wedding
vows to banish evil spirits; luck for fertile promises
of first time blood.

but we wear white in nod to Her
Majesty and the ghost of our purity.


...

 

[HotKittySpank]

the sun is mad at our siesta.

his fingers slip through the blinds
in effort to keep us awake.

but he is too late.

we are curled to one another,
a child and his mother
cuddled in sleep’s embrace.

 

[HotKittySpank]

green fields drenched in breeze
in mass a rippling flag across the field
a strong show
yet, each blade shakes
individually from the force of wind

to run your hands through such things
to feel the tremble of a blade
hands as wind
to interject between rippled masses
you see the individual
and the waves you make

 

[HotKittySpank]

am i your Danae
your lust filled eye caught at my sight
did you seduce me as any other women
you had already taken them as you pleased
did your passion rain upon me out of pity
or is it your duty to take what you want
it being your right

you slipped past the locks of this watched tower
a mist through its cracks to drip across my coverlets

and i was filled with ecstasy upon your knowledge
purchased by you, those gold coins flipped over
to fall upon my parched skin and soak through me
as i slept in sweet dreams wrapped in you

am i to be the tool of some dark prophesy
those locks broken to unleash a brazen end
a means to it, to birth something hidden in me
would you calm the seas to protect it

as i carry that gold inside me
grow this gift as it multiplies to fill me again
i still labor under the weight of that possession
the riches of this golden knowledge you imparted
of rapture, it pulls out of me even now
as we are set adrift to fend