GANG BANG - A Radical Critique Thread

[PandoraGlitters]

I've been playing around at form lately, a'cause of the Survivor thing and the form (maybe) requirement—just trying things out. Here's my first attempt at writing a curtal sonnet (which, of course, really isn't a sonnet at all but some crazy form made up by Gerard Manley Hopkins). I'd appreciate anyone's comments, on most anything about it. Does it work as a poem? Is the form too obvious? Wrong? I'm the worst poet ever and someone should take my keyboard away?

Liebeslied

Such a small slice of life, these few minutes,
.....Where part of my body is part of yours
..........And even my thought is made physical
As if geometry derived, was writ,
.....From just sweat and muscle and bone. Of course,
..........Of course, yes, I am joined to you. But how?

More than emotionally, for I thrash,
.....Washed in these exquisite sensations—you're
..........Warm, wet, hollowed, busy, strange, spread....Vocal.
That is my trigger: Voice. High, clean, clear, splashed.
....................Life's call.​

I know I'm pushing it with the rhyme and it's neither iambic nor pentameter (decasyllabic, except for the last line). Is that cheating?


Anyway, it's an interesting form, I think. Y'all should try one.

I don't want to comment on this in terms of the form, but only in terms of how it stands as a poem. I like it. It is quite evocative. I love the internal rhyme of thrash and washed, and the near rhymes are lovely. My only beef with it at all is
And even my thought is made physical
As if geometry derived, was writ,
.....From just sweat and muscle and bone.

The reason that doesn't feel right I think is that it sounds too formal for the rest of the poem, too tricky. The rest of the poem is clear as rain in a rain barrel. This part doubles on itself like a snake in that barrel. I wonder if there is a clearer way to say this that lets it stay within the tone of the whole?

Very sexy poem, though. Quite nearly a thing of beauty. *snaps*

 

[Tzara]

I don't want to comment on this in terms of the form, but only in terms of how it stands as a poem. I like it. It is quite evocative. I love the internal rhyme of thrash and washed, and the near rhymes are lovely. My only beef with it at all is
And even my thought is made physical
As if geometry derived, was writ,
.....From just sweat and muscle and bone.

The reason that doesn't feel right I think is that it sounds too formal for the rest of the poem, too tricky. The rest of the poem is clear as rain in a rain barrel. This part doubles on itself like a snake in that barrel. I wonder if there is a clearer way to say this that lets it stay within the tone of the whole?

Very sexy poem, though. Quite nearly a thing of beauty. *snaps*

Thank you, Ms. D., for the comments.

I find it interesting that the part you find doesn't fit is the part I feel is more "me." You say those lines are "too formal for the rest of the poem," but then I'm the kind of guy who squares the paper on his desk to align with the edges and who orders the bills in his wallet (all face-forward, top up, organized with small bills in front, larger in back).

Thank you, though. It's what I need—someone else's viewpoint.

 

[Tzara]

I wrote this for TheFool's Same Title Challenge, Submissive Origami. It's time to take another look with an editor's eye. If any of you have problems with the breaks, words or feel in this poem, please let me know; even a simple comment of "I don't like ... (insert word, break or whatever here)". I don't mind if you don't tell me why you don't like it, I'll consider the input as valuable regardless. Same thing applies to the features you like. Consider this a quick opinion poll, nothing more.

One of the problems, at least for me, in commenting on someone else's poem is that I tend to look at it as if I was writing it, which means my comments should often simply be ignored.

Having stated that disclaimer, let me proceed.

Some basic comments:

• "Buoyant" is misspelled.
• I think "kaero" should be "kaeru," but perhaps that is a conjugated form?
• I tend to use the convention that foreign words (kaero, maiko) be set in italics, as I think it indicates they are words and not names and makes it more obvious that you might want to look them up. I got kaero from context, but thought maiko might be a name.
• I don't understand why kaero is not capitalized. Your punctuation seems very standard elsewhere. I find kaero instead of Kaero distracting.
• I don't understand the phrase "a place to rest," i.e. I don't see quite what you're trying to convey with that. Well, maybe I do (see my change below), but it isn't clear to me in the original.
• I really like the last two lines.

Of course, I would cut words and move them around some. Again, this is how I might alter the poem, so just think about these changes as a kind of series of comments. Ignore any or all:

Submissive Origami (geisha's song) <-- I would capitalize Geisha's Song

I am of stuff that bends and twists
but will not hold a crease
so my white cranes can't fly
and my lotus petals
flatten on the pond, float
as lilypads—buoyant, pliant.
My place of rest. Kaeru throat
balloons as he serenades
the maiko outside the door,
who cannot know the agonies <-- "who" is an ambiguous reference; consider "she"
of coming undone in your hands.​

In general, I think this is a very good poem for the title you were given—you evoke the theme well.



Ribbit.

 

[champagne1982]

Submissive Origami (Geisha's Song)

I am made of stuff that bends
and twists but won't hold a crease
so my white cranes don't fly
and my lotus blossom
flattens on the pond to float
as lilypads, buoyant, pliant;
a place to rest. Kaeru's throat
balloons as he serenades
the maiko outside the door,
and cannot know the agonies
of coming undone in your hands.

The maiko is an apprentice geisha. I must have visited an inferior translator site to get kaero instead of kaeru. The punctuation of the line is a typo. I love the frog as kaeru since the Japanese word has so many different and varied meanings... frog, return, hatching. It's gorgeous when the apprentice connotation is added and poignant in connection with the white cranes.

Thanks for your thoughts on this one, Tzed.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Try sticking this in here

When hell froze over
the man himself
skated round lost souls,
emptying their pockets
of stolen golf balls.
There arose such a wailing
teeth chattered
not gnashed,
and the flames of hell
dripped icicles,
grinning teeth dropping
seeds of destruction.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

Try sticking this in here

When hell froze over
the man himself
skated round lost souls,
emptying their pockets
of stolen golf balls.
There arose such a wailing
teeth chattered
not gnashed,
and the flames of hell
dripped icicles,
grinning teeth dropping
seeds of destruction.

This got my attention a bit ago, but I wanted to chew on it some. I really like the idea of trying to create a poem out of a cliche and sort of reform it. I especially like the stolen golf balls image because it is specific and unexpected. I'd limit it to one teeth image (flames turning to ice fangs is the more compelling of the two I think) and also I'd look closely at the "There arose such a wailing" line only because it makes me think of Santa ("there arose such a clatter"). I also am curious about the cause of hell freezing over. Was it global warming??

Oh! Unless you wanted to redo the whole thing as a sort of "The Night Before Christmas" spoof which could be cool. The Night Hell Froze Over / There Arose Such A Chatter ??? Or probably not. lol

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Thanks for this Dora as far as I can remember it was written partially in response to some comment or other on here as in the actual cliché crossing my mind and then getting the image of the devil skating around on the ice lol Way back there was a thread about writing nonsense poetry at which I excelled!

 

[PandoraGlitters]

I like it and I like the ambiguity of the man himself (god or satan?) emptying their pockets of stolen golf balls. That image is really engaging and wry.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

bumpitty bump

 

[homunculus]

version

Here is my revision--applying some of the advise as I understood from Champagne-something.

Tied--
eyes covered--
spread, parted--
riding the roller coaster--

Plunged--
wave upon wave--
Christ! your fingers--
darkness
below

Here is the original:

Tied, helpless, vulnerable,
senses heightened
by covered eyes
she waits and only feels.
Spread, parted, opened
fingers probing deeply
riding the roller coaster
of sensations
plunging
faster
faster
wave upon wave
crashing
falling
dark abyss below

I'm impressed by Champagne's repertoire of rhetorical terms--brings back memories of grad school--but sometimes it's good just to show. Can't do much with the dark abyss, but I think it is an interesting reversal of how climax is usually represented--a height then a falling off...
Men are so curious about what it is like for a woman to come, and so turned on by evocations of coming--thanks for the poem.