#1
no amount of sunlight can scorch the scales of a fish
as it's suspended in your hands above a river
no amount of air can dry the lines on the pastel painting
hanging above your computer screen

I'm caught between the two stones of sin
where the female is nothing more than an egg bearer
trying to find a common ground between us
so that the drawing will dry in the sunlight we create

her sneeze is rubbed away with a sleeve
but the smear has already forced me free
it's too late to notice a change
it's too late for the tissues to work
Last edited by AngryGoldfish at Jun 27, 2009,
#2
You used 'feat' instead of 'feet'.
Perhaps 'it's a nuisance of a day that we endure'
I feel there should either be a comma before
'here in Ireland, anyway' or that and 'not here..'

I didn't understand the relation of the last bit, and that was sad because I liked where this was going. I think stronger links could be drawn with the 'wetness' and the fish and then brought to something, but it just went off it entirely in the last two lines. I can take lots of ideas from it and they're very deep and I'd love to know what it all meant in terms of itself, but it's not conceptualised with the rest of the piece.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#3
I'll try and edit the ending. I like this enough to work with it.

You're such a reliable lassy, Katherine!
#4
Quote by AngryGoldfish
no amount of sunlight can scorch the scales of a fish
I thought this was a wonderous idea; it gave me the feeling of cool water being stroked against baking skin, and it made me wonder because it's so untrue. It was like this fish has been in the river so long it's gathered up so much water around him it's protecting him, like it's a world where the cool can't evaporate; I love it
as it's suspended in your hands above a river
the suspension was like it was waving cooly in the wind with the wind making the water even colder against the sun, which made the image in the line before even nicer. The feeling of strangulation and having everything being turned around on you contrasted beautifully. It was like the fish has a kind moral superiority in a silly way; you hold its future but nothing can break it or burn it. Or that you hold something so perfect and have done something so wonderful that nothing can wreak it for you; if you're going to cook the fish it's going to be cooked for you, by you. This leads the piece to having a few possible feelings around it and either of them are just beautiful.
no amount of air can dry the lines on the pastel painting
The pastel was a great image for the flesh of the fish. The idea of the paint/lines, being dry or being wet forever is lovely and strange and again you're saying something kind of other worldly and I'm curious
hanging above your computer screen
the interest runs

no amount of feat can help you run away
as your lungs breathe in the stale air
the air that rusts my forehead
here I got confused. The rust is dry and is as if the paint/scales have dried and the 'feat/feet or whatever it was meaning' points to the character being a fish, but something about your introduction of character- as you called the human 'your' and the fish 'fish' made me think this wasn't the case, so I'm moderately confused about the application here

it's an oily hour we live in,
and no one really has much of a grasp on it
it's a nuisance of a day we endure,
and no one really has much of a drawing on it

it's a wet year we live in,
and no one really has anywhere else to go
here in Ireland, anyway

so tissues for the sister who sneezes on my life
and for me, who cannot avoid his own artistry


Sort out the confusion in that bit, please, because without its direction I don't know where to draw my conclusions and can only see the ideas in the ending three stanzas as interesting pictures, to be looked at to not be thought about. I think if you sort that then the direction will work perfectly; screw what I said about the last stanza yesterday, it would be much more amazing to see the connection drawn in the third stanza.

I felt like saying something more.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#5
Quote by AngryGoldfish
no amount of sunlight can scorch the scales of a fish
as it's suspended in your hands above a river

This made me think of catching a fish but not being able to eat it because you can't cook it.

also it created an image of glimmering/glittering in my mind. Good.


no amount of air can dry the lines on the pastel painting
hanging above your computer screen

^this made me think of a digital/physical divide, for a example, the pastel painting could just've been displayed on the computer screen itself, but why does the person still have a pastel painting hanging beside it? Or, if books were already readily available in portable e-format, some people would still prefer to read paper copies of books (myself included).

no amount of feat can help you run away
as your lungs breathe in the stale air
the air that rusts my forehead

^ I don't quite know what this means, but I inferred it must be related to the previous stanza through the "air".

A thought: If the air cannot dry the lines of the pastel painting and can rust the lungs of a forehead...then it must be...wet?


it's an oily hour we live in,
and no one really has much of a grasp on it
it's a nuisance of a day we endure,
and no one really has much of a drawing on it
^made me think back to the painting, and the fish (being possibly oily and hard to grasp) Another thought: The fish is very easily suspended my the person over the river, in full control of it, but not time.

it's a wet year we live in,
and no one really has anywhere else to go
here in Ireland, anyway
^made me think back to the fish, and the wet air

so tissues for the sister who sneezes on my life
and for me, who cannot avoid his own artistry
made me think back to the painting
sneezes....when someone sneezes the air grows wet. And tissues...which function to dry wetness. Hmm.




I liked how more of the poem is revealed the more I thought about it.

There are so many fun ways that this can be interpreted.

Quote by DigUpHerBones
You used 'feat' instead of 'feet'.


I thought it fit in, because it would be weird IMHO to quantify "feet", while "feat" is more qualitative and it is not usual to say "an amount of" when there are only two.
Quote by icaneatcatfood
On second thought, **** tuning forks. You best be carrying around a grand piano that was tuned by an Italian
#7
no amount of sunlight can scorch the scales of a fish
as it's suspended in your hands above a river
no amount of air can dry the lines on the pastel painting
hanging above your computer screen

I didn't like the use of the word "as" in the second line. It makes it feel like there is going to be more to say about that part, but the thought ends, and a new one begins. Perhaps if you just made the 2nd and 4th lines more consistent by making them both past participles (ie. take out "as it's") it would flow more.


I'm caught between the two stones of sin
where the female is nothing more than an egg bearer
trying to find a common ground between us
so that the drawing will dry in the sunlight we create

Perhaps I am just not reading this poem well enough, though the last line made me go back to the first stanza to check what you've said to make sure there was no contradiction or some lack of sense. The air can't dry the picture, but you are waiting for sunlight to...? Idk, just thought I would point out that ambiguity....


her sneeze is rubbed away with a sleeve
but the smear has already forced me free
it's too late to notice a change
it's too late for the tissues to work

The end here seemed a little anticlimactic. The subjects are so trite in a way (sneeze, tissues...) that there isn't much drama, catharsis, or closure to the poem.

Overall it was well done. I like the structure and the line breaking - an art in which I myself am not well versed. I find myself never knowing what I am doing in that area. Good job.