yes, noticed the typos after uploading.
oh well. c’est la vie.
i like w/. i don’t think it looks stupid.
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if we were lying the entire
time, that means you were lying to me
while I was lying to him, then where does
the truth of my feelings belong?
in the back of some drawer where you
shove all of the miscellaneous papers
and feelings that you want to
forget about?
is that the only place you care to fit me,
dark and suffocating in come corner, lint
balls, broken CDs, pins from a long ago
discarded bag—and me?
and what if I’ve still got you in the center of
all things, making circles in
the air, my priorities…my priorities?
to sacrifice myself and be torn to shreds, flesh
dangling at strange angles, and blood and fat
oozing, dripping, a phlegmy substance and
stench emanating from me, and me
on my knees, arms outstreched, blood soaked hands
imploring you to return and kill me again.
and will you give me that honor, that pleasure,
to give you pleasure, to satiate you
hunger and longing w/ my insatiable hunger for you,
so that you’re free and comfortable to
turn around and viciously dig into me again,
to let me be a casuality of your rage and
uncertain moods?
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I don’t think I can say I like this poem, because it’s different from my own idea of poetry, but reading and reading I get a feeling, a kind of frustration for still needing someone who deserves you so little. The structure is interesting as well. It seems not to follow any particular rule, it’s like a waterfall of words written by someone who had the urgency to spit them out immediately. You often repeat the same words too, so I think it’s not wrong to say that your writing is more instinctive then studied, except for the word “time” or “all things” and many others, which are put in the following line breaking the continuity of the verse. It sounds like something disturbing in all your scheme, but I guess this was your purpose. You are talking about a flesh, blood, fat, a fragmentation of the body, which is perfectly given by the interruption of the verses. Despite the personal taste, this is what I consider a good job.
Ooh, you’ve got great images – I love detailed descriptions, especially in the second half. I liked the indentations, but the only thing I suggest is putting it into stanzas – just makes it easier to read. =] Good job.
At the end of line 4, try using a dash (-—-) to introduce the new question:
. . . the truth of my feelings belong?-—-
in the back of some drawer . . .
Try ending line 5 with the word “shove”
Try rewording line 10 so it makes more sense:
“dark and suffocating in a forgotten corner, lint”
“you” in line 23 should be “your”
the “w/” in line 24 looks stupid.
“is that the only place you care to fit me,
dark and suffocating in come corner, lint
balls, broken CDs, pins from a long ago
discarded bag—and me? ”
The best line in the whole poem. The imagery was good in regards to you on your knees. You were very vivid in your anger and pain. Were you trying to focus more on your anger? I ask this because although you used hurt descriptors, the form was such that they expressed mostly ire.
I like.
Some suggestions:
TYPO “dark and suffocating in come(some) corner”
Make a pun on lying using the definition of falsehood and sleeping, would add a nice touch to the relationship aspect.
“discarded bag—and me?”
-space one line after this to separate the 12th and 13th lines to indicate the shift in emphasis from his actions toward her and her actions toward him (I seem to think the speaker is a woman talking to a man).
“and what if I’ve still got you in the center of
all things, making circles in
the air, my priorities…my priorities? ”
-This confuses me. My priorities doesn’t seem to fit. Is maintaining the relationship with the callous individual one of her priorities?
I checked the meter; its all varied. An idea to emphasize the conflict of the poem would be to have the first few lines in a regular but smaller, predictable meter, symbolizing a controlled and rational discussion, then vary the meter and increase the syllables per line, every line, further and further to illustrate the decline of a conversation about feelings into a rambling and hysterical, emotional release of pent up frustrations.
That’s my 2 cents.
This has some really excellent moments, especially, “lint
balls, broken CDs, pins from a long ago
discarded bag—and me?”
WHen it gets very strong, the imagery is almost gothic, and I am not so keen on that, somethng more restrained might bea little more interesting and palatable…?
dangling at strange angles, and blood and fat
oozing, dripping, a phlegmy substance and
stench emanating from me, and me
on my knees, arms outstreched, blood soaked hands
imploring you to return and kill me again.” as heartfelt as I assume it is, just a bit OTT, it pushes me away rather than encourages me in…
so, for instance, “torn to shreds, flesh
I know the poem is expressing how you may feel but my gut just says run from that relationship if a real part of your life. It is possible to find love again, it may take time but so worth it! I know I should be rateing your poem but I just want to scream dump the jerk.
oohh very angry poem. i like it. you just need to go through and spell check. I like the way you form your lines. nice work.
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