#1
He smokes like the chimneys he swept
for twenty-five years, sooty lungs coated
by the slim, cool coffin nails he’s puffed
since age ten when Bill next door asked,
“Wanna cig?”

The heavy smell of Grandad’s whiskey
and Irish stout leaves a bitter taste on
my tongue as he launches into another
sloppy account of jumping from port to port.

As I stare at his gaunt face, hollowed out
by decades of abuse and neglect,
cheeks littered with a few weeks worth
of stubble, eyes glazed like the pottery
we fired in grade school, I wonder how
much genetics really matter.


thanks for reading. : )
Last edited by ndakasimba at Mar 13, 2007,
#2
Quote by ndakasimba
He smokes like the chimneys he swept
for twenty-five years, sooty lungs coated
by the slim, cool coffin nails he’s puffed
since age ten when Bill next door asked,
“Wanna cig?”
Great beginning here. The flow is very good, and it all seems to run from line to line without no problem. Smokes like chimneys that he's swept, that's a fantastic line.

The heavy smell of Grandad’s whiskey
and Irish stout leaves a bitter taste on
my tongue as he launches into a reminisce
about is his time in the navy, another
sloppy account of jumping from port to port.
More matter-of-fact than the first stanza. We know the character here, I suppose. A little weak, but the integrity of the piece is still intact.


As I stare at his gaunt face, hollowed out
by decades of abuse and neglect,
cheeks littered with a few weeks worth
of stubble, eyes glazed like the pottery
we fired in grade school,
I wonder how much genetics really matter.
The pottery line was fantastic. Favorite stanza by far. Maybe find a way for the last line to flow into the rest, for I don't feel there should be a break for that one line. But still solid.


Good piece you have here.

Crit mine?
Poor advice.
#3
yo dude im not saying that your a bad song writer but this is not your best work and it really isn't a good song......take this as a positive thing not negative
#4
^ thanks stellar. just trying something new.

ironmaiden20, it's not a song. it's a poem, dig?

Edit: maiden, do you have anything you want me to crit for you i.e. leave a one line comment?

next time, it'd be nice if you gave me some real criticism.
Last edited by ndakasimba at Mar 8, 2007,
#7
by the slim, cool coffin nails he’s puffed
Slim, cool coffin seems to congest the line a little.
eyes glazed like the pottery
we fired in grade school, I wonder how
much genetics really matter.
I'm not nuts about the pottery reference to the be honest. was this something you did with the person involved? For example, I like "He smokes like the chimneys he swept" because it gives us some insight into the character. However, with the pottery reference, it just tells his eyes were "glazed like pottery." Nothing too strong there I think, unless it has a special significance to you.

At first I thought the first line ended too abruptly, but as it seems to be the message of the poem, perhaps that's a good thing?

Just some thoughts.
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#8
sure, thanks revalk. you're right about the pottery reference, I just thought it was cool so I threw it in there. The thing with poetry is that everything that you mention really has to tie in to the experience. I have a bad habit of putting things in that sound cool but don't make the strongest connections. so, thanks! : )

truly ninja: thanks, i'm glad you liked it. it's very different from what I usually do, so I'm glad it sounds good.
#9
He smokes like the chimneys he swept
for twenty-five years, sooty lungs coated
by the slim, cool coffin nails he’s puffed
since age ten when Bill next door asked,
“Wanna cig?”

Some fantastic imagrey here, you have really elaborated brilliantly on the habit and voiced your opinion of it. You've further given it a personal touch with the inclusion of a name and the event, and a small insight into the charachter without spoiling the rest. No criticisms here, very nice.


The heavy smell of Grandad’s whiskey
and Irish stout leaves a bitter taste on
my tongue as he launches into another
sloppy account of jumping from port to port.

This one was not as good as the first, you have elaborated further on the charachter but without the fantastic imagrey and the way you have continues the second line into the third seems drawn out. Perhaps you should punctuate the second line and use some clever imagrey to convey his normadic lifestyle? This seems like the best opportunity to define his charachter and I just don't think you've done it justice.

As I stare at his gaunt face, hollowed out
by decades of abuse and neglect,
cheeks littered with a few weeks worth
of stubble, eyes glazed like the pottery
we fired in grade school, I wonder how
much genetics really matter.

Fantasic finish, littered with great imagrey and a closing line thats very easy to relate to. Gun to my head I might change the pottery simile, the verb 'fires' seems out of place, but overall an excellent piece of poetry, congrats mate.

EDIT: hadn't read the previous criticism about the pottery, but it proves the point...
Last edited by SoundofSeattle at Mar 30, 2007,