ramonathompson
Lit Bitch
- Joined
- Jun 30, 2006
- Posts
- 4,204
Well, I'm here, freakin' late- and I apologize, though it was quite lovely to see Unmasked Poet roll out the carpet for Saturday. The day was crazy, as I thought it would be, and I've only just got in and read today's offerings, having been out since ungodly hours of the morning. Absolute cracking way to start off my first review day, eh?
There were three poems in particular that really wriggled into me. (Presented in submission order)
Of her two poems from Saturday, Into the Mirror by our Patron Saint of Swirly Poetry, Ms. Annaswirls is just exactly the sort of poem I love dipping my fingers into. It reminds me of when you take a chance at a restaurant and order something you wouldn't normally think of, and when it comes it tastes progressively better and better until you're leaving and all you want to do is go right back in and order it again. That restaurant thing doesn't happen to me too much, but that feeling is incredible- when you've been given something that's pleasing on so many levels. And this poem is that, does that, you know.
For me it doesn't start off with a particularly erotic bent, but before I know what's happened it's taken my hand and led me to this place:
but you always allowed me to fuck myself
fucked me with my own words
my image my ego my body
you with your tools and tune lock magistrate
you held the mirror
I held the mirror
our breath condensed letters tracing
fuck yourself baby do it
fuck yourself do it do it
and ends with a request: "roll me down roll me down."
Goddddddddd. It's so invertedly dirty and personal and, for me, visual as well as musical. Musical of body, and cadence. With raw edges. Just, so good.
I really get the sense that there's more clever trickery going on in this poem than I'm able to pick up- and it's behind Anna's eyes. We might not even be allowed to know what it is, but we do know it's there. And it keeps bringing me back.
The second poem that pulled me in for a repeat experience was Butterflies by madelinemadly. I'm not a huge fan of the title because I do think it's one of those too oft-used words/images, but despite that it's a really sweet and tidy little prose poem that does bring thoughts of warmer months (remember that, people? Warmth?) and the sorts of delicious activities that can happen when all feels right and heavy with the world.
I find this image:
scrunch the hem of her dress in your fist to pull her toward you, skinny ribs against your chest, beating heart against your skin
to be particularly enjoyable because it's both easily conjured and easy in its acceptance of you as a reader. You can feel that, understand it, see it.
Do you think when you fuck her it will be like your dream, she will fall to you and away/ like a spring lily on a rough breeze, opening just enough to crush/ you in her petals?
Is also well-crafted. The starkness of the word "fuck" against such delicate wording is interesting.
The third offertory is one that both Unmasked and I certainly agree on. The Man Who Wasn't There by UnderYourSpell is a wonderful little read (and not about a Coen brothers movie). It really makes me think of the Romantic poetry, but more accessible in my mind. For some reason the Romantics tend to tangle up in my head (yes, let the stoning begin. Though, the notable exception to that is Lord Byron. Whatta man) and before I know it I'm a little muddled about who's dead, who's in love, who's humping a tree, and who's hitting the crackpipe (okay, okay, that was mean. Sorry, Romantics). Please to forgive.
Like Unmasked, I am not a devoted fan of rhyme, but Annie's really just made me tingle with happiness. Despite the dark subject matter she crafted the poem with a light hand and used words that buoy the poem and knit it together like a delicate shawl instead of a heavy sweater.
As a prolific crafter of decidedly interesting work, I think it would be a disservice to him/her not to mention Cal. Of the four submissions from Saturday, I enjoyed Nasty Girls and Other Poems most. The thing about Cal's poems (and I hope I'll be forgiven the liberty of speaking somewhat informally- we have not spoken) is that you cannot just read them as you would anything else. The words rather demand that you lie down in the spiderweb for awhile, get good and woolly, and then emerge with a headspace that is reminiscent of Queen Mab on ecstasy, who has just indulged in a long and solemn discourse with a smoldering gay man about Very Existential Things.
And you know what? It doesn't always rub you the right way, but it's kinda damn cool. I don't know that I've run across anyone who tosses the word "interregnum" in a poem which features anal sex. The vocabulary is interesting and the odd tidbits of pithy wisdom make for a few "Hmm" moments, along with a few times where I laughed out loud because something so everyday was mentioned, yet which I wouldn't necessarily think of. Like this:
A pair of buttocks
Looks more naked
When a girl’s pants
Are halfway down
Or a girly boy’s ass
Is visible, sans panty lines;
I’m not arguing
For restraint, just making
An observation while I eye
The orange thongs I have on.
Just, yeah. Pique-y, if I can make up a word.
A poem/song from another of our prolific authors, Ramona Thompson, was Dollhouse Fantasy and I found that as I read I kept nodding until I was grinning because it's Just So True. Also, as a Barbie-lover back in my day, I like the thought of pairing how I used to play with them with this work. Which might sound kind of sick on my part, but I prefer to think it's rather witty on Ramona's, to get my brain to work in that way.
Dreams in Water by miss_trust was also a compact little packet of sheet-y goodness. I admit, the water imagery doesn't fully work for me, mostly because I think she's capable of a deeper parallel, though I think I understand where she was going with it. It's still certainly worth a read, as is all of her work.
The part about the eyes widening was one of those lines where I think about how I enjoy her mind (miss_trust's). It might be easy to dismiss miss_trust as another female poet, without truly reflecting on where her thoughts are coming from, but I find her mind to be quite pleasing and I enjoy her work.
I'd also recommend giving a read to AChild's Till (which starts out resoundingly like a Keats poem, if I may say so) and The Word for Hunger Sounds Like Femme by greenmountaineer. That one wins title of the day for me. Love titles like that.
Thus ends the review. Thank you to everyone who shared their work.
*smile*
Thanks for the mentions of my new works.
