Yeah, I know what you mean, that was kind of pointless. Thanks for the review, I’ll be sure to fix the punctuations then. =]
Poetry / God Forsakeness of a Plastic Surgery Junkie
“I’m bored” she says.
“I’m on borderline alright.
I’m bording a plane with broad aisles”
She says betting on the time.
Betting that she’ll make it.
I bet she won’t.
She won’t, she won’t.
I bet she won’t.
And although her broadening mind doth grow with wisdom.
there isn’t anything to cure her of her idiotism.
nothing to cure.
nothing to care.
nothing too rare.
I sing “n-o-t-h-i-n-g”.
nothing worth while…
“Plus” she says lighting a fag.
“I’ve got my ways
You know these tits didn’t come for free”.
No they didn’t.
she exhales the smoke.
“but I’ve been ‘round for ages, look at me.
“touch it, squeeze it, twist it”.
She’s suddenly a Bop-It.
I bop her.
“just like a turkey’s
just like beef jerkey
just like a piggy ready to chop”
I laugh a little.
Tell her she’s pretty.
Pretty wasted.
pretty old.
pretty gray.
p r e t t y .
“There’s nothing here for me”.
her plane’s number is called.
gets up, smoothes her shirt and skirt.
she feels herself a bit.
“Nothing is this Gawd-forsaken dump
God forsaken “home.”“
“Well”.?
I bet she won’t. She won’t.
she eye balls me up and down.
“Aren’t you coming”?
She did.
but I didn’t,
and that’s that. The last of her,
she boarded the plane,
with broad aisles
it brought her to nowhere
brought her to now
Here. Alone. In another
God—forsaken—
dump.
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Doctor_Rat reviewed Version 2 -
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I like the scene you set here, the rhythmic flow and the wry humour … though I’m not sure the sting of the final lines quite works after the ironic tone of the rest. A tricky tale, nicely told.
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metaphoricalsimile reviewed Version 2 -
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the last two lines really brought the rest of the poem together for me. I know that you said that the improper use of punctuation was purposeful, but why is it? It didn’t seem to add anything to the poem to put the periods outside of the quotation marks.
Overall I really liked it.
shannygoat reviewed Version 2 -
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I liked this. I don’t know the rules of poetry, but I will say this was easy to follow and there wasn’t so much imagery that I had to figure out what you were talking about.
I did really enjoy the play on words. The first stanza (I think that’s what they’re called in poetry) with the word board then bored. And of course with “pretty”.
Unfortunately, people that are like that…bored with everything, think the next thing will be the thing that makes them happy. It’s not the location or the body part, it’s what’s inside that needs to be fixed. I think the person she was talking to knows that and pities her.
Overall, great job.
Willow_Wren reviewed Version 2 -
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A clever play on word meanings but reads more like narrative than verse in my ears. Existential emptiness but I don’t get the plastic surgery junkie part as it only seems she had her tits done. How can she both be wise and an idiot? Is the airport and plane metaphors for something? As for character development there is not enough back story or description on either character to know much about either of them, a chance encounter between two strangers where the narrator mimics her reflections on being used up and old. What was her old life that her new life will not be new? How does the narrator know this? This poem has promise, but it’s too content with its own cleverness at this point and needs more fleshing out.
paulfogarty reviewed Version 2 -
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Yeah, the woman and the narrator are great characters already. You got a great sense of balance, or something like that. A lightness of touch that helps – when you drop in heavier, more weighted thoughts or perceptions or images – to add greater impact than might otherwise have been. The way you sort of dovetail little circular kind of verses, like they are parts of forgotten nursery rhymes, really adds a fantastic dimension to the somberness and honesty of the piece. Well done, indeed. Cheers.
Goddess2006 reviewed Version 2 -
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I can honestly say I’ve read nothing like this. You illustrate this person perfectly; this person who is permanently dissatisfied. I admired your use of the word “broad,” and how yet you never used it to describe her physically, your use of it compounded with the title, shaped my image of her. Her dialogue depicts her well; the “tit” sequence was darkly funny. It left me a picture of an extremely superficial, half plastic old hag.
AWESOME!!!!!!
Lin reviewed Version 1 -
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General impression. Well worthy reading & doing a review!
You captured an interesting encounter very well!
1 typo – boarding a plane.
2 awkward – And although her broadening mind doth grow with wisdom.
there isn’t anything to cure her of her idiotism.
“Nothing is this Gawd-forsaken dump
God forsaken “home.”“
Willow_Wren reviewed Version 1 -
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I think, though interesting, it is a bit bleak and sad and a bit disjointed at this stage of writing. The dialogue is fine but it jumps around and we never know why these two people are speaking. In an airport I take it before a plane takes off. Two strangers sitting next to each other? What does “I’m on borderline” mean? Is she a borderline personality? On standby? And why so adamant and repetive that she won’t make “it”, what is it? “Her broadening mouth doth grow with wisdom” is medievel and out of context in this hip poem. It is never established how the narrator assumes so much knowledge about this stranger who divulges so much personal information about herself, an older woman who has had a boob job. This poem kept me reading but it leaves out so much and then at the end the question is what and why? What is this all about? I’m not sure what an improvised poem is, but I would take the material and would like to read a revise.
Mahi_Atua reviewed Version 1 -
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This poem starts off incredibly clever (though the spelling mistake in ‘boarding’ is rather glaringly obvious), the play on words being both lithe and alive. The poem progresses in an extremely deft manner, writhing in sensuous patters, but then seems to go splat!, flat and dead at the end. I wonder, is this intentional? And in being left wondering this, I lose some of the enjoyment that I first felt in the earlier parts of the poem. Its very good – I love your use of language, especially ’...I laugh a little / Tell her she’s pretty / Pretty wasted / pretty old / pretty gray / p r e t t y …’, its just it needs to end more effectively than it currently does, needs to come to a conclusion that better fits its wild abandoned use of language. Fix that, and the spelling mistakes, and I reckon you’re on to a winner, mate :-)
FrumpBurger reviewed Version 1 -
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I think you’re right: it is quite good. A little sad, but quite good. I like how you play w/ the language visually; it makes the poem interesting on another level. I also like how stream-of-consciousness the whole thing is. Good work. I’d like to see more of your writing.
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