04-16-2013, 10:30 AM
(04-16-2013, 06:59 AM)UnicornRainbowCake Wrote: I haven't got much critique for this at all, I absolutely love the way you incorporate the theme without mentioning it once. The red lights dimming is wonderful. A great poemHi Unicorn, thanks for reading, I'm glad you liked this, thank you for reading and commenting. I visited Amsterdam and the red light district some time ago, what I saw there inspired this poem.
my best,
Heart
(04-16-2013, 08:17 AM)trueenigma Wrote:Hi trueenigma, thank you for reading and your opinion and suggestions. It's common for the girl to have a lover who perhaps in this case failed to show up, he is most likely the recipient of a portion of her salary and could be considered a pimp, which is legal there. Taking photographs is highly discouraged for privacy issues, provoking the anger that I write about. It is unfortunate to be in need of clarification, an indication that I need to review this. I will take your thoughts into consideration, they are most helpful, I appreciate the encouraging comments as well.(04-16-2013, 05:56 AM)Heartafire Wrote: I am a dead thing. Leering punks vie for my attention.
They whisper and make gestures.
Dragging on my cigarette, the smoke swirls in circles,
a distraction as I search among the faces for you.
Who?
Traffic is slow, mostly looking, not buying.
Hard times have taken its toll on carnality.
A snapshot stirs my anger, still there
is rent to consider. the snapshot was confusing for me, rent to consider helped me start to get the poem, it also helps put things in perspective.
Digging in my pocket I find your note.
Liar! Men call all the shots.
Tears well up but remain fixed. I hate you.
ok now i see that there is more to this story, a back story perhaps? Will we get to read more about this, perhaps what the note says, or who its from? Or who you hate, or why?
Smiling sweetly at the young fellow,
I coax him, stay, don’t go.
The red lights dim, he lowers his head and follows.
“ Do you like Amsterdam?”,
barely audible, he whispers that he does.
nice, subtle, very good.
I place the euros with your note.who's? what does it say? What's the point?
The light reflects off my face and burns my deyes.
I fondle the pay in my pocket.
The night is not a total waste.
good stuff, but how did your character get here? whats the deal with the damn note? why are you teasing me, meany. If I read it again will I find an explanation? It worked the first time when I didn't get the theme..Nope. Aww man.. *sigh.
Nice poem, subtle, skillful storytelling, I like the way you 'showed' what it was about rather than 'told'. I had to read it a couple times to get it, it was a nice little moment in my head when the light bulb came on, then I had to read it again with this newly discovered information. Made me feel clever, knowing what it was all about. (For some reason the first time I read: 'Pinks vie for my attention', Like neon advertisements? Would have been a great line..)
The snapshot thing felt out of place though, do people take pictures of working girls? I have no idea, but I cant see why they would. And was this a potential customer? Why the stilled anger...oh..maybe the snapshot was a leer, a look from a prospective client? Not bad, Heartafire, not bad at all.
Still there were some unresolved things that left me wondering, and wanting more, but maybe that's a good thing? Idk..maybe..hmm
Very Good. Brilliant. Put 'you' in place of 'he' in the fourth stanza and add a little to the imagery and phrasing, and you've got yourself a work of art.
my best,
Heart
(04-16-2013, 08:02 AM)tectak Wrote:Hi Tectak, thank you for reading and your time. I prefer to use the term "dead thing" rather than cadaver which seems rather clinical. The girl IS an attention whore (I assume you refer to the poem and not me), that is her job. I very much appreciate your opinion and suggestions and will review this piece with them in mind, particularly your reference to the line breaks. "Sometimes it is almost comedic to see line outs so deliberately used to no purpose other than adherence to a half-forgotten poetic wish. A sop to the endeavor"(04-16-2013, 05:56 AM)Heartafire Wrote: Hi heart,[/b]
Line by line on this because there is a lot to go at. I only wish that conceptual stuff like this would spur the writer on to make greater effort in flow, meter, rhyme or rhythm. Taking the easy route, concept and nothing else, depresses me. Anyway, onwards an upwards,
I am a dead thing. Leering punks vie for my attention. plunge in. You could start with "I am a cadaver" which is not so different and serves the same purpose as just beginning a piece with "Fuck". Attention whore. You simply MUST follow an opener like this through to avoid the cheap gesture
They whisper and make gestures.
Dragging on my cigarette, the smoke swirls in circles, Is how it swirls in any sense unique? Could it be?
a distraction as I search among the faces for you. A scene is set. The audience awaits. The curtain rises. A dead-looking girl, leering low-lives circling, predatorialy? Expectantly? Threateningly? Dramatic draw on cool-dude menthol, smoke dramatises....then...then....
Traffic is slow, mostly looking, not buying......a traffic report.
Hard times have taken its toll on carnality.
A snapshot stirs my anger, still there We are whoreing in case anyone missed it...and in fairness I find high hopes for this restart. We shall see
is rent to consider.
Digging in my pocket I find your note.
Liar! Men call all the shots.
Tears well up but remain fixed. I hate you. Too late for this impotent rant. The line breaks do not help the rapid emotional flexings BUT there is an authenticity in this stanza which is keepable. I like the eyes ringed in tear stuff, not quite enough to break surface tension. Any chance this could be an enigmatic stanza 1...
Smiling sweetly at the young fellow, "fellow" is wrong vernacular, "young fellow" is worse.
I coax him, stay, don’t go. Half narrative. " I tempt him not to go"
The red lights dim, he lowers his head and follows.
“ Do you like Amsterdam?”,
barely audible, he whispers that he does. Yes to this, adept narrative here. The lack of flow throughout is not helping...you or me
I place the euros with your note.
The light reflects off my face and burns my eyes. Hard to imagine this
I fondle the pay in my pocket. I think I like "fondle"....I don't like "pay"...but I don't know why.
The night is not a total waste.Sometimes it is almost comedic to see line outs so deliberately used to no purpose other than adherence to a half-forgotten poetic wish. A sop to the endeavour. There is good stuff in this. Tell a story or write a poem. I cannot advise...or have I said too much already
Best,
tectak
Have you ever said too much? :-)
my best,
Heart


