Thanks man, I appreciate that. Yeah, I’m leaving Michigan too, this summer.
Poetry / Like Whiskey to a Drunkard Down on his Luck
I feel like I was born into this.
I write therefore I am.
I did not choose to be a writer.
It's an exorcism.
My mind pours,
And the page
Soaks up my demons.
They're locked inside,
They're read,
They become your demons.
For a moment,
We are connected,
Intertwined.
Intellectual intercourse takes us away.
I'm yours, you're mine.
Lover to lover,
Writer to reader.
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inxthexpinesx reviewed Version 2 -
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You, again, have created an intense feeling within me. This seems to be the area in which you most shine. Have you ever considered writing horror novels, because this skill is absolutley essential to this genre. I think i felt like i could really connect with this poem, as a writer, which is a complement because I usually think that writer writing about writing is a bit old hat. You’ve managed to bring a new soul to a classic poem. Everything you feel in this poem, I feel when someone reads my work, and reading this piece gave my stomach butterflies just the same.
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Sweet_blood13 reviewed Version 2 -
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Love the thing ‘[bout demons and the intertwing!
jadedpoet reviewed Version 2 -
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Hi there,
If your Bio’s age is correct you are one hell of not just a writer but a deep thinker, quite rare qualities for many that are three times your age. You pull the reader in, convey a deep meaning and have a unique way of closing this fine piece. I live not far from you, I actually live in Grand Blanc and have been thru your city many times. Leaving Michigan soon just to escape the bitter people or maybe the cold or both, but heading south.
You have in your possession the killer talent to be published once you accumulate the numbers to fill a book. Write for you, from your gifted soul and never look back. Listen to many, bow to the few for all do not possess what you have, they have to fight for every single word while yours simply at least appear to just flow from your keen spirit. Alter not a single word. Write on, me…
Matthewtuckey reviewed Version 2 -
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I like this. It contains everything poetry should- structure, metaphors, ideas. The only advice I would give is to perhaps find a more succinct way of saying ‘takes us away’. Is there a verb that fits more neatly?
KidTruth reviewed Version 2 -
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Probably my favorite of yours now, I think. I like this shortened version much more. Sometimes saying a lot with a few words is a lot more exciting than the opposite. Your metaphors are clearer now though the title is maybe still a little hinky. Whiskey for a down-on-his-luck drunkard would essentially be a bad thing, and it no longer fits too well with the rest of the poem.
jalubcarrey reviewed Version 2 -
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When I read that your demons become my demons, I almost stopped reading :) I liked that you explained the reasons for your writing, but is it true that you’re only relieving your demons? You don’t have other reasons for writing? The grammar works fairly well, with comma placement and word usage. The line, “I write therefore I am.” was a little cliched (I think therefore I am), but that’s ok.
OMGZ_itskels reviewed Version 2 -
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I love the concept of “intellectual intercourse” that you present. It makes it seem that much more personal that I’m able to read your work. I also like that writing “soaks up your demons”, I can easily relate because I typically write when I’m upset or too angry to see straight. Wonderful ideas in this poem, I really like it.
KidTruth reviewed Version 1 -
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Probably my favorite today. I really like the “Intertwined/Intellectual intercourse” wording, and the way it is split.
Not sure I am getting “Whiskey to a drunkard/Heroin to a fiend” in relation to the comparison “lover to lover” above it. IE:
Lover to Lover is symbiotic, the other relationships are parasitic. Whiskey and Heroin gain nothing from being consumed. So the four comparisons in a row don’t really work for me, is what I’m saying – they are all a bit different. Also, you’re essentially calling your readers drunkards and fiends, but that may be the point.
But in that scenario, you are whiskey and you are heroin. What do you get out of being consumed? The rest of the poem seems to speak of a symbiotic partnership between writer and reader, but not the end.
Jimmel104 reviewed Version 1 -
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This is like a racehorse rounding the final turn. It gathers speed and it ready to race down the home stretch and then stops. I am left with a question? “So
what?”
This is good stuff. l1-10 takes your thoughts and delivers them. The remaining
9 lines put them squarely on the readers plate and then…....?
I am left wondering what I am to do with this? Is it purely an exercise to clear your cluttered mind? In short it just doesn’t seem to go anywhere.
How about a few lines telling the reader of the relief you feel from disgourging to our plates. Or perhaps what poor literary companions we are for stimulating your feeding frenzy?
This is a wonderful piece, I just think you need to finish it.
lovelee1313 reviewed Version 1 -
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Love it! It’s simpley stated yet a complex idea. “Intellectual intercourse takes us away” Is a great statement. “I feel like I was born into this.” seems redundant after your opening, it’s a little cliche also. I think “When read they become your demons” sound better, but thats a matter of opnion.
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Version 2
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