Not For The Thin-Skinned

[twelveoone]

tryimg for more for the mimicry of the effect of
text
image
text

 

[Sibilaire]

I will be back for this, sorry I missed it when it was posted. I am falling asleep, drool on the keys

Orignal
When I sometimes write I have a visual image of what it should look like on a page. In the original comments, (of which, I am proud and humbled by) two people noted the duality of this. The image I had was of a Japanese print with writing on it. I could not convey that, and I am not sure I am able to do it here, despite the use of Japanese images, terms.
Aware is a Japanese term, as is "ghost in the forest".
I apologise in advance, if I will not be able to respond to any suggestions on this, but any comments, suggestions, I will be thankful for, for this slighly redone version



Aware

I was not aware
I would go through life and find no reason

I try forgetting
so there will be nothing
but consuming emptiness

Still, contemplation of those breaking moments
that became who I am
a ghost, glued with a chameleon’s skin
Unforgetting; unshedding
this cloak of failures
assigned to me


Will you see me
in the cold rain in the forest
as a vague and ugly ghost
a monsterous form assumed
reprehensible, half crawling
with a basketfull of souls
traversing clouded downward slope
grasping for limbs, footholds
slipping on strewn November leaves
to an occluded stream?
Where as an old woman would,
with clawed hands in hard water
I try to wash away the smear
of shame and father’s failures
the stain of stolen hope


That you, my child, may be equal
and able to enjoy
the unclouded sun,
the smile of blossoms,
the murmurs of springs

Now
in the pity of passings
with no reason
I am alone
aware

 

[Tathagata]

...that slightly slanted perspective you want?

Did no one else pick up on this...in reference to a Japanese poem??
or am I reading things that aren't there again?

 

[twelveoone]

Did no one else pick up on this...in reference to a Japanese poem??
or am I reading things that aren't there again?

No you are reading right, maybe, I should have used more codes. Since this in part was prompted by someone saying something real stupid to my daughter, maybe I should have put in the momentary thought of taking off that some one's head (alas, my sword was at home), instead of the focus of the quick changing role of comforting my daughter. Which was the most important thing to do. Part of growing up is also the realization of a child that some adults are jerks. Part of growing up as a father, is comfort of a child is more important than anything else.
But, words begat only words, I did have on subsequent occasions the Luxury of tearing him a new asshole.
Real, honest, violence is SO not PC.

Aware is this context has a "exploded" meaning, including the modern Japanese one.
"no reason" has also an ambivalent meaning also

I see I wrote this too abstract
Thanks - Tath.

 

[Tathagata]

I see I wrote this too abstract
Thanks - Tath.

No no
I meant Pat using the word " slanted'
yeah I know..I should have just kept my mouth shut

 

[twelveoone]

No no
I meant Pat using the word " slanted'
yeah I know..I should have just kept my mouth shut

funny. do you think he was refering to my
eyes? ever notice the racial implications of this critter, guess that is why they changed the colour
Didn't pick up on it, I am so dim

 

[Tathagata]

I am so dim

well
we are all dim....sum

 

[My Erotic Tale]

Aware Great title

I was not aware
I would go through life and find no reason?

I try forgetting
so there will be nothing
but consuming emptiness clever

Still, contemplation of those breaking moments
that became who I am
a ghost, glued with a chameleon’s skin great line
Unforgetting; unshedding
this cloak of failures grinin' ..very good mix of words
assigned to me good directing the reader


Will you see me
in the cold rain in the forest
as a vague and ugly ghost
a monsterous form assumed
reprehensible, half crawling
with a basketfull of souls
traversing clouded downward slope
grasping for limbs, footholds
slipping on strewn November leaves
to an occluded stream?
Where as an old woman would,
with clawed hands in hard water
I try to wash away the smear
of shame and father’s failures
the stain of stolen hope
wow, it was like a poem with in a poem
this whole paragraph


That you, my child, may be equal
and able to enjoy
the unclouded sun,
the smile of blossoms,
the murmurs of springs tone the poem again, good

Now
in the pity of passings
with no reason
I am alone
aware
like herding cattle through a shoot
brought the whole poem to a grand ending of one word
the title, excellent poem ... my opinion

it kicked ass, hehehe great write 1201

 

[twelveoone]

Hey Art, I posted it to get my ass kicked. But thank you my brother, I am in debt. Bows, with fist in opening hand.
You're the man!

BTW, this was twenty god-awful lines, kept condensing it
a ghost, glued with a chameleon’s skin

 

[twelveoone]

either do something more with "glazed" or find a better word


These are close to cliche:
carries his steps like stones to the grave.

silence and stillness

out of context, i agree they look cliche.

in the context of the poem, however, i do not agree.

the word steps is the key for me in the first line, referring back to both the boots and to the choice he may, the decision to open the bomb bay.

BTW, Pat one of the few poems that reaches for greatness, in that respect, let's revisit "stones" I cannot find how stones refers to anything here, in this respect it fairly screams cliche. Consider for a moment "load" not that much better out of context, but it will refer back to bomb load. It will serve the dual purpose of slowing down, what I perceive as a too fast ending.

 

[PatCarrington]

BTW, Pat one of the few poems that reaches for greatness, in that respect, let's revisit "stones" I cannot find how stones refers to anything here, in this respect it fairly screams cliche. Consider for a moment "load" not that much better out of context, but it will refer back to bomb load. It will serve the dual purpose of slowing down, what I perceive as a too fast ending.

1201 -

i do understand your point. i have considered it, and will do so again. the poem has already been shipped out to a few places. we'll see what kind of reaction it gets.

a man carries his steps like stones to the grave

the word "stone" was used to add weight to the 'steps' (decisions made) of course, and also as an image of rubble, the loose aftermath of bombing (the unalterable consequences of decisions).

no poem can ever surely be finished, i think. there is no reason why i can't try to improve it, as you suggest.

and i wish to apologize for not giving my analysis here for you poem "aware". i am traveling and have little time now. i read it a few times and think it is marvelous. i will try to get to it when i am settled again in a couple of weeks

patrick

 

[annaswirls]

Sometimes this is all I want

*deleting earlier versions*

 

[DeepAsleep]

First edit

Weellll... I'm still not sure how I feel about it, but beating my face against it any more won't get me anywhere, right now, so.

I yoinked the chapter break thingies, because they didn't fit and I want to do something else with them, some other time. I chopped off the end parts, because the more I read them, the sillier they seemed. Yay, silly! But not fitting. A few re-wordings, some brand new shite and some re-allocation, etc. There are still a few stumbling points that stand out a tad more glaringly to my eye, right now.

Side note - I'll be eyeballing the couple poems put up while I was gone and throwing my stones later tonight. Hopefully, I won't break my house. Heeh!


Untitled, as yet

I have passed too many days in empty reflection,
in shiftless hours spent behind smoked glass.

Was a home, once,
"Our little den of sin," we said
and I miss you on the balcony
waving me away to work.

God, but you loved
my sorry ass.

When I got there,
all my hopes clutched to my chest
in neat little bundles,
she was waiting with arms spread wide.

I should have circled the earth
on her wings.

Birdboned
and flightless.

Now, the quiet of sharing a remembered moment
across a table and two cups of coffee.
Her, chased through hanging laundry and sunlight,
smile obscured by the linen hands of sheets on a windy day.

More between us than a table and time,
sheets and a smile.

I liked to fuck her
but I didn't love her.
She always knew.

I knew.

People are puzzles glimpsed too close
and distance-lent perspective plays
neat little jokes on memories.
I never admitted that I saw
the things I looked away from.

"Meh."

~D.A.

 

[flyguy69]

Sometimes this is all I want

Sometimes this is all I want:

To fall in line down E.Cross street <--- cap. "Street"
stepping over the black man with blue hands,
his coat soaked in fallen sidewalk rain.
Just walk up to the counter
order my coffee with mindless anonymity.


But I can’t.
Can’t sugar, sip or sit still
until ambulance lights somehow
beat the siren. Beat in a race? or into submission? I like this image very much, but want to know more.

And I can’t
love you fuck you without ever missing
you, now wouldn’t that be nice
like every day’s a goddamn holiday.

Tarantino and De Sade <-- Is there a specific reference, here? A movie or a behavior in particular? It leaves me hanging.
have not beaten me numb
I still feel it all.

I still want to feel it all.

Every goddamn bullet
ass fuck
finger prick
porcelain crack on skull.

I still got the will to open my own
goddamn mouth
demanding to taste it all,
bitter-sharp and real.

Savor every splinter
that becomes a jagged triangle of glass
slowly pulled from the sole of my foot.
The flesh holds on. To what?

I am left a bit confused (a normal state for me!) because you seem to start with the fact that you wish you could not feel all these things, to step over the ugliness and remain unaffected, but end up saying that you want to feel it all. I think a transition would help, something that tells me why you reject the numbness, or why you cannot ignore the pain. Or, leave one as the desire and the other as a need.

i also liked the inclusion of the picture frame in the original because it makes the glass splinters a memory rather than simply a source of pain.

Some very strong images thoughout, anna.

 

[annaswirls]

Sometimes this is all I want

Sometimes this is all I want:

To fall in line down E.Cross street <--- cap. "Street"
stepping over the black man with blue hands,
his coat soaked in fallen sidewalk rain.
Just walk up to the counter
order my coffee with mindless anonymity.


But I can’t.
Can’t sugar, sip or sit still
until ambulance lights somehow
beat the siren. Beat in a race? or into submission? I like this image very much, but want to know more. hmm good point, I meant the doppler effect, the I swear I saw the lights first. hmm
And I can’t
love you fuck you without ever missing
you, now wouldn’t that be nice
like every day’s a goddamn holiday.

Tarantino and De Sade <-- Is there a specific reference, here? A movie or a behavior in particular? It leaves me hanging. see the green verse below, those were the images I had in mind. Maybe I should bring them up here?
have not beaten me numb
I still feel it all.

I still want to feel it all.

Every goddamn bullet
ass fuck
finger prick
porcelain crack on skull.

I still got the will to open my own
goddamn mouth
demanding to taste it all,
bitter-sharp and real.

Savor every splinter
that becomes a jagged triangle of glass
slowly pulled from the sole of my foot.
The flesh holds on. To what?

I am left a bit confused (a normal state for me!) because you seem to start with the fact that you wish you could not feel all these things, to step over the ugliness and remain unaffected, but end up saying that you want to feel it all. I think a transition would help, something that tells me why you reject the numbness, or why you cannot ignore the pain. Or, leave one as the desire and the other as a need.

i also liked the inclusion of the picture frame in the original because it makes the glass splinters a memory rather than simply a source of pain.

Some very strong images thoughout, anna.

Thank you Mister Fly!
I will work on what I am trying to say, and how to say it... sometimes I DO want to step over the ugliness, but I can't. Since I can't might as well just demand to shake its hand. I don't know why I can't, so I suppose this would be a good time to figure it out.

The picture frame is back in. This was my first big injury away from home freshman year. Kind of symbolic. It was a picture of HS friends that broke. The feeling pulling that glass out was glorious.

Again, thanks!

Much to do much to do.

~J

 

[twelveoone]

1201 -

i do understand your point. i have considered it, and will do so again. the poem has already been shipped out to a few places. we'll see what kind of reaction it gets.

a man carries his steps like stones to the grave

the word "stone" was used to add weight to the 'steps' (decisions made) of course, and also as an image of rubble, the loose aftermath of bombing (the unalterable consequences of decisions).

no poem can ever surely be finished, i think. there is no reason why i can't try to improve it, as you suggest.

and i wish to apologize for not giving my analysis here for you poem "aware". i am traveling and have little time now. i read it a few times and think it is marvelous. i will try to get to it when i am settled again in a couple of weeks

patrick

Quite alright, Patrick.
I read a line from a 2002-2003 Pushcart nominee that had "the weight of stones" in it. Ponderous. Made me think of this. Your's on the other hand aspires, I am quite impressed with the input Jim put into it. He is an excellent counterbalance to you. Both of you would do well to edit each other, to guard against the excessive tendecies of each other. I am thinking of Pound's massive edit of Eliot's Wasteland, here. Made Eliot's career with a very un-Eliot like poem.
As for mine, no need to apologize, I have three possible answers, I can live with any of them. I do realize how much effort and thankless it can be pointing out what you percieve as flaws.
I must go now.
I see Rybka has a serious timing issue with comedic delivery.

 

[twelveoone]

Here is what I am working on now (in blue) and below is the version I originally sent. It means a lot to me to get this poem right. Any suggestions would be appreciated. Thanks in advance.


Sometimes this is all I want

Sometimes this is all I want:

To fall in line down E.Cross street
stepping over the black man with blue hands,
his coat soaked in fallen sidewalk rain.
Just walk up to the counter
order my coffee with mindless anonymity.


But I can’t.
Can’t sugar, sip or sit still
until ambulance lights somehow
beat the siren.

And I can’t
love you fuck you without ever missing
you, now wouldn’t that be nice
like every day’s a goddamn holiday.

Tarantino and De Sade
have not beaten me numb
I still feel it all.

I still want to feel it all.

Every goddamn bullet
ass fuck
finger prick
porcelain crack on skull.

I still got the will to open my own
goddamn mouth
demanding to taste it all,
bitter-sharp and real.

Savor every splinter
that becomes a jagged triangle of glass
slowly pulled from the sole of my foot.
The flesh holds on.

some considerations: This comes across as angry cutting fragments (good). It may help to work in a little more reptition of "I still (and/or) want", perhaps some line changes.
Sometimes this is all I want

Sometimes this is all I want:

To fall in line down E.Cross street
stepping over the black man with blue hands,
his coat soaked in fallen sidewalk rain.
Just walk up to the counter
order my coffee with mindless anonymity.


But I can’t.
Can’t sugar, sip or sit still
until ambulance lights somehow
beat the siren.

And I can’t
love you(;?) fuck you
without ever missing
you; now wouldn’t that be nice
like every day’s a goddamn holiday. *line shift, comma changed to semicolon, not sure about the word "like)


Tarantino and De Sade
have not beaten me numb

I still feel it all.
I still want. (here I am beginning to set up a refrain)

Every
ass fuck
finger prick
goddamn bullet (s?)
porcelain crack(s?) on skull. ... (here, I reordered the lines to increase line (and or sylable, words) lengh, added ellipse, because I'm fucked up that way)

I still got the will (italise? )
to open my *goddamn* mouth (this I question, I think you need to replace godamn, bring it back to poetry; possible line start "opening my * mouth" ravenous?
demanding to taste it all,
bitter-sharp and real.

Savor every splinter
that becomes a jagged triangle of glass
slowly pulled from the sole of my foot.
The flesh holds on.

and again somewhere I would put in another varient of "I still (and/or) want" or inversion "I want still", possibly as an end line.
I like all the "ll"'s

 

[twelveoone]

re; black man with blue hands, why are his hands blue? Give me a reason.
To fall in line down E.Cross street
stepping over the black man with blue hands,
his coat soaked in fallen sidewalk rain.

You may want to extend and then subvert the cliche as this:

To fall in line down E.Cross street
stepping over the black man with blue coat
beaten with sidewalk rain

I see what you are doing with fall in, fallen, I'm just not happy with it in front of rain

To fall in line down E.Cross street
stepping over fallen black man
with blue coat beaten with sidewalk rain

just some thoughts

 

[annaswirls]

blue hands

mornin' 12,

I like your thoughts

it was late winter,
the man was black, I do not know if he was african american, jamacian, haitian, or where he came from, but he was there, dark skinned and american

his hands were blue, he was half frozen and on the verge of death.

and all I could think was "black men are not supposed to have blue hands"


and that is where the poem started, but by no means it is not where the poem has to end.

It does not matter what his color was.

no one in the ethiopian resturaunt cared when I told them about him. he was a drunk and always passed out somewhere. this time was different but they were indifferent.

right as I started to insist that I use their phone to call an ambulance, the siren started, and it was so surreal, I was so twisted in time, that it seemed like the ambulance got there before the siren did, breaking laws of physics.

wonder what happened to him.

I stepped right over him. I was not brave enough to reach down and shake him or check a pulse. I stepped over him and into the door to do a poetry reading.

wound up writing.

I will work on this, thank you, you are most generous.


~Jennifer

re; black man with blue hands, why are his hands blue? Give me a reason.
To fall in line down E.Cross street
stepping over the black man with blue hands,
his coat soaked in fallen sidewalk rain.

You may want to extend and then subvert the cliche as this:

To fall in line down E.Cross street
stepping over the black man with blue coat
beaten with sidewalk rain

I see what you are doing with fall in, fallen, I'm just not happy with it in front of rain

To fall in line down E.Cross street
stepping over fallen black man
with blue coat beaten with sidewalk rain

just some thoughts

 

[flyguy69]

I stepped right over him. I was not brave enough to reach down and shake him or check a pulse. I stepped over him and into the door to do a poetry reading.

wound up writing.

You stepped over him to do a poetry reading? There is a damn good poem in that!

Oh, good morning, Jennifer!

 

[annaswirls]

You stepped over him to do a poetry reading? There is a damn good poem in that!

Oh, good morning, Jennifer!

Yes I did step over him, isn't that awful? I was alone and it was freezing raining, in a not so nice neighborhood---he was stretched across the sidewalk, but I tell you, I walked Right into the door and insisted! Then I refused to read or drink my coffee until the ambulance got there, which makes me only half evil I guess.

I know Mother Theresa would have given him her coat and held his blue hand while the ambulance came. I am working on my goodness, but I have not gotten that far.



Good morning Mister Fly, shouldn't you be in church praying for your evil friend

 

[annaswirls]

1201 Aware

Orignal


Aware

I was not aware
I would go through life and find no reason <-since the word I is capatilized, it is hard to tell if these are two separate sentences or part of the same without punctuation (which I do not think is generally needed here)to guide.

Is it: I was not aware that I would go through life and find no reason. or

I was not aware.
Finding no reason as I went through life.

I try forgetting
so there will be nothing
but consuming emptiness <- I understand why you need this, but I do not like that it comes out and says this. Your emptiness is clear in the chameleons skin. If you think it is necessary to reinforce this image, consider creating a new one. What came to my mind was hunger but not for food, and insatiable as if nothing were eaten at all

Still, contemplation of (those) breaking moments
that became who I am
a ghost, glued with a chameleon’s skin
Unforgetting; unshedding
this cloak of failures
assigned to me <- intense. my favorite lines right here. so powerful, one of the reasons I want the ones above to be so as well. but who knows it might be too much then

Will you see me
in the cold rain in the forest
as a vague and ugly ghost
a monsterous form assumed
reprehensible, half crawling
with a basketfull of souls?

I felt like I needed a break here. A breath. A new basket

traversing clouded downward slope
grasping for limbs, footholds
slipping on strewn November leaves
to an occluded stream?


I felt like I needed a break here too


Where as an old woman would,
with clawed hands in hard water
I try to wash away the smear
of shame and father’s failures
(and) the stain of stolen hope


That you, my child, may be equal
and able to enjoy
the unclouded sun,
the smile of blossoms,
the murmurs of springs

Now
in the pity of passings
with no reason
I am alone
aware


You know that I enjoyed this poem in its original, and you know I still do. The images you use to represent much deeper things are impressive. I just feel that they would be easier to digest fully if they were separated in some way. I felt a little punch drunk upon reading it.

all the best, friend,

Jennifer

 

[twelveoone]

Orignal


Aware

I was not aware
I would go through life and find no reason <-since the word I is capatilized, it is hard to tell if these are two separate sentences or part of the same without punctuation (which I do not think is generally needed here)to guide.

Is it: I was not aware that I would go through life and find no reason. or

I was not aware.
Finding no reason as I went through life.

I try forgetting
so there will be nothing
but consuming emptiness <- I understand why you need this, but I do not like that it comes out and says this. Your emptiness is clear in the chameleons skin. If you think it is necessary to reinforce this image, consider creating a new one. What came to my mind was hunger but not for food, and insatiable as if nothing were eaten at all

Still, contemplation of (those) breaking moments
that became who I am
a ghost, glued with a chameleon’s skin
Unforgetting; unshedding
this cloak of failures
assigned to me <- intense. my favorite lines right here. so powerful, one of the reasons I want the ones above to be so as well. but who knows it might be too much then

Will you see me
in the cold rain in the forest
as a vague and ugly ghost
a monsterous form assumed
reprehensible, half crawling
with a basketfull of souls?

I felt like I needed a break here. A breath. A new basket

traversing clouded downward slope
grasping for limbs, footholds
slipping on strewn November leaves
to an occluded stream?


I felt like I needed a break here too


Where as an old woman would,
with clawed hands in hard water
I try to wash away the smear
of shame and father’s failures
(and) the stain of stolen hope


That you, my child, may be equal
and able to enjoy
the unclouded sun,
the smile of blossoms,
the murmurs of springs

Now
in the pity of passings
with no reason
I am alone
aware


You know that I enjoyed this poem in its original, and you know I still do. The images you use to represent much deeper things are impressive. I just feel that they would be easier to digest fully if they were separated in some way. I felt a little punch drunk upon reading it.

all the best, friend,

Jennifer

Begins to see, thinks out loud
Deliberate ambiguities
aware - Eng. Def. to Japanese (how to lead to, pardon the pun, an awareness of the Japanese def.)
"no reason" i.e. no^ reason or "no reason"; I was thinking of Kursosawa's "Ran"
"consuming emptiness" what is eating what, this is a real problem, where I put?
"Still", "alone" I need to decide.
Failed line
"Will you see me" original was "did..." I need something that does not assign either present or past., but both.

middle section uses graphic images, Start and end, deliberatly vague, not the best thing for American audience, but what I want.

I can stucture this so that something is coming out of mist and disappearing back, instead of deliberate framing effect, (which seems to have failed)
This line is problem, where do I put?
"a ghost, glued with a chameleon’s skin"
Other lines may need to be trimmed
Thank you anna, I am beginning to see. Could not do on my own.

 

[annaswirls]

Begins to see, thinks out loud
Deliberate ambiguities
aware - Eng. Def. to Japanese (how to lead to, pardon the pun, an awareness of the Japanese def.)
"no reason" i.e. no^ reason or "no reason"; I was thinking of Kursosawa's "Ran"
"consuming emptiness" what is eating what, this is a real problem, where I put?
"Still", "alone" I need to decide.
Failed line
"Will you see me" original was "did..." I need something that does not assign either present or past., but both.

middle section uses graphic images, Start and end, deliberatly vague, not the best thing for American audience, but what I want.

I can stucture this so that something is coming out of mist and disappearing back, instead of deliberate framing effect, (which seems to have failed)
This line is problem, where do I put?
"a ghost, glued with a chameleon’s skin"
Other lines may need to be trimmed
Thank you anna, I am beginning to see. Could not do on my own.

I do not think "failed" is the right word. The poem is great as is.

I don't understand the "where do I put" question about the chameleon skin line. What are the options? Why not where it is?

 

[PatCarrington]

.....