#1
Wandering wistful lovers' hands;
we wash the night with welcome tides,
alive in firefly alleyways,
suburban meadows and petticoat lace.
Sipping sherry and malt whiskey
on park benches we hold hands,
and raise our glasses to the things we'll
never understand. Tackle the sciences
with chance, to see the whole sky
reflected in a single glance. Come
dance on the pavements and we'll flutter
like leaves in a light London breeze;
you, me and the depths of our long lost
integrity, battling the old and new
with battered umbrellas and always saying
our thank yous. Stare silent still;
this is a watchers war. We dance to music
only we can hear, see the men behind
the man, the whole sky
reflected in a single glance, a
single red shooting star aglow in
your aging iris. Hold the lost and breathe
before you find the time to see this
through. The time to know.

Say:
no, thank you.


welcome to the product of my day.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
Last edited by DigUpHerBones at Nov 13, 2008,
#2
there's some excellent imagery in here... specifically, 'firefly alleyways, sherry, malt whiskey, (for the taste detail), RED SHOOTING STAR IN AN AGING IRIS. Very good. I think most of what this poem lacks is in structure, i think energy flow through the entire thing is a little staggered, mumbled, it could be a lot smoother but that could compromise what you already have. I'd look at it, though.
what comes up comes out
#3
Quote by DigUpHerBones
Wandering wistful lovers' hands;
we wash the night with welcome tides,
alive in firefly alleyways,
suburban meadows and petticoat lace.
Sipping sherry and malt whiskey
on park benches maybe put a comma here?we hold hands,
and raise our glasses to things we'll
never understand. Tackle the sciences
with chance, to see the whole sky
reflected in a single glance. Come
dance on the pavements and we'll flutter
like leaves in a light London breeze; I think this will lfow better if you get rid of "in a light London breeze"
you, me and the depths of our long lost
integrity, battling the old and new
with battered umbrellas and always saying
our thank yous. Stare silent still; I like the aliteration in this line, but i still think it doesn't work
this is a watchers war. We dance to music
only we can hear, see the men behind
the man, the whole sky
reflected in a single glanceYou've said this already earlier, and i don't think the repition works, especially in a piece this short, a
single red shooting star aglow in
your aging iris This is the best imagery so far. Hold the lost and breathe
before you find the time to see this
through.I don't like any of the line breaks here
The time to know.

Say no,
thank you.


welcome to the product of my day.


This was good, but pretty much as good as what you've done before (bar We Are All). It lacked structure, some of the line breaks really hindered this piece, and all in all it felt more like a ramble than anything else. This had an air of you saying the same thing over and over again, developing slightly, but not enough to retain my interest. I think either this needs to be shorter, or it needs some more character added to it. You're painting a picture, but nothing else. There is no story, no real character description, just a static picture. And static pictures, though nice to look at, are ultimately boring.
#4
oh oh oh, nice. the consistent rhyming is gorgeous, keeping without the burden of line breaks and armageddons, it sizzles and repeats just the right thing in just the right place like that new cat that says just the right thing at just the right time, and oh, he's so cool, we're sitting on a park bench and the world is a spiderweb of sidewalks at the whim of our toes, I love every minute of it. this gave me chills.
#5
the only qualm I really had was the jump between bench and hold hands was awkward, I think a line break or comma in that line would solve the problem. the imagery here was really well done. nothing here was too spectacular, but it painted an awesome image in my mind. simple idea, executed well. no chills here, but it made me grin.
#6
Although this is clearly adept and truly articulate, it didn't feel like you. I could be totally amiss here, but it just felt at a loss with your Manchester spark. Maybe because you have mentioned alcohol so many times now, the impact and thought of it is running off - slippery pancakes on spachulas.
The piece felt controlled by the intelligent and creative words and metaphors. That said, this is an interesting change from your normal style (which is far superior to this) and it reminds me more of your older work - back months ago.
There was only one section where I thought, that's bad: - "on park benches we hold hands" - This ruins the flow and line in general. After a few more reads it does become more and more evident, but probably because you have read this over many many times yourself, you don't recognize the slight shortcoming.
It's all very poetic and pretty, with hints of anger and desperation - your normall works - but to reitterate, it just isn't my thing. A good little read, but lacking punch. That's the word I'm looking for: Punch.

Digitally Clean
#8
I agree about the writing about one thing too many times. But if I do it it's a thing I'm trying to perfect writing about. Failing, but I'm trying.

I'm told that I tell stories too blatantly, so I try to stop being blatant and I'm told that the other way is better, so which way am I meant to go? How I feel? Well I feel like this piece. It's just a load of pretty images because I'm trying to tackle a load of pretty images. Except that I don't think it is just a load of pretty images.

Let me tackle it from this angle: what do you think this is about?
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#9
i think you've got two people, perhaps a romantic kind of situation, and you bathe them in this rich atmosphere. At the end I think your saying no thank you to the accepted conventions of society... the men behind the man... that could be government? A watchers war could be the media, or people who read newspapers. I'm pretty sure your red shooting star is symbolic, but I'm not sure what the meaning is. Aging iris, long lost integrity, perhaps you wish you could be naive again. These are just blind guesses. Let me know if I hit anything
what comes up comes out
#10
I'm not sure whether it's about two people in love, and just the feelings and the way the world appears around them. Or whether this is about shaking off society's laws of etiquette and whatever. They both seem to be there, but I could be wrong
#11
Haunted man: right, right, wrong, right, wrong, wrong, right (left), right.

This is about the 1% of me that thinks the rest of me is wrong and just wants to give up. It's not me but it's the romantic image reflected upon me and those with the same feelings that maybe we're just more used to being miserable and can only feel secure within insecurity. The you in the thank you is those who couldn't understand what 'we' (the pair in the poem) are saying or we just don't want the rebound so it's easier to hide it with a thank you. 'We' needs to be said because we wouldn't understand ourselves or wouldn't want to. I don't know, I tried to say this.

We can live in every pretty image. We can take it at face value. We perfect the image. We only exist as the image. We can hold on to each other and applaude, laugh at the things that we don't and will never understand. We can laugh at them because perfection isn't what we want, we want the insecurity behind it because that's the only place where we can feel like we belong. Perfect doesn't think we're perfect. We can be lighthearted we can lose everything and any kind of integrity and end up kooky and middle aged wearing mix and matched socks with holes in them but we'll always be polite. We wouldn't ever want to make you angry because we know what happens then. We are here to absorb without taking away. We only want to be happy. This, you don't understand. All we want to see is the imperfet behind the perfect because this makes us feel safe.

And the biggest thing? We have the ability to change everything. We have the ability to find new depths of life and we could start the revolution and we could do it all. But there's that hole in everyone that makes us feel alone. There's that hole that needs to be healed. The thing that could make us feel lonely in a crowd of people all of whom think the same as we do. So why not keep to our own and avoid as much of the pain as possible? Because it's the easy way out. But all we want is to be happy. And if someone can make someone else feel THAT lonely, this pseudo-hippie thinks that maybe they don't really want the revolution. They're used to how things are. Change is uncomfortable. Peace means having to stop creating the holes in peoples hearts and once people stopped that they would have to face their own. So let's not create this new world. Let's say, actually, treating everything as an asthetic and makeing the prettiest pictures possible is the way for us to work, and it works. We know it works. Whenever we feel that hole inside of us and we want to turn around and try and make a change, we have the tools to fill it, because everyone has a vice and a hole filled with a bottle can be stepped over and got over and forgotten about until the bottle's empty and it smashes under our feet. So before we consider taking the intelligent option we're going to breathe and we're going to look at the prettier side of the picture and decide we quite like being made to be pretty for once. If the world doesn't want peace then who are we to argue? So we can look at the bigger picture or we can look at the prettier picture or we can look at the bigger picture and decide that there's a nice part somewhere to the left where it's all been painted slightly nicer and in slightly brighter colours so it can keep our attention away from the gaping hole that's been left in the middle cause the painter died half way through. And once we find that place we'd be fools to turn it down and not to set up shop and live out our lives there. So we can see the red in someones eyes and we can KNOW that that yes, it may come to something if we act on it, but... no. That if it could there's that 1% that's empty and needs filling inside us all and we can decide to please it rather than to fill it and we can exercise that right to say 'no'. He's not the messiah; he's a very naughty boy. Given the choice, we'd rather not make a difference. And we can pretty up this gaping hole, this massive mistake, by being painstakingly polite and as the words echo off the walls of our beautiful homes with sea views and we realise what we've said we can settle down to bed and be the real Pretenders and we'll exercise our right to say it again. Say it again (fine, be cheesy, and we will be). Live in these homes and be pseudo-happy because we were always taught to say our 'thank yous'.

And no, we're really not sure we said the right thing, but that's the beauty. Thinking this way, we can all put it down to fate and say we were just made to be unhappy.

Thank you.

Wall of text, buggery. I can't stop being literal.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
Last edited by DigUpHerBones at Nov 14, 2008,
#12
I enjoyed that explanation as much as the actual piece.
I play by my own rules. And I have one rule; There are no rules... but if there are, they're there to be broken. Even this one.


Confused? Good.

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^ Irony

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LET ME HUMP YOU DAMMIT
#13
same, and reading the piece now, after reading that, I can see what you've been trying to acheive. I was actually thinking it was something along the lines of the "star-crossed lovers" thing, except that they were shunned by the world instead of by their families. But it turned out to be a lot simpler than that, which I think is the beauty of this. You've taken a simple idea and presented it in a way that it could be interpreted many different ways. THis is obviously not what you wanted, but it appealed to me, because i think anything too specific starts to close off the reader. I like to be able to find my own "in" inside a piece, interpret it someway that I can connect with.
#14
I liked it much more.

in regards to your first reply to this thread, I'd say just stick to a style and write how you feel like writing. don't try to stop being blatant because people say you're too blatant if you want to be blatant, just keep working at it and be a better blatant writer.

and I did think it was just a load of pretty images, the poem doesn't convey the beautiful ideas you just presented in your last post as well as it could or should've.

it's awesome as a beautiful piece of imagery, however I would be absolutely floored if anyone else on the planet could've written such a great explanation about what you meant.

in reality though, I think the same could be said of all poetry. no one knows better than the author what the author intended to say, and I don't think anyone ever could. I don't even try to fool myself and suppose that anyone could draw nearly as much meaning out of it.

you have to write first and foremost for yourself. I'm not one of those romantics who thinks audience doesn't matter at all, because if you're going to present a poem in public, then you have to consider the "public" you're providing it to when you do that. but the "you" in your audience is more important than the "them" in your audience.

but that's not to say this doesn't have value. just presenting a simple, enjoyable poem with beautiful imagery is an accomplishment. not everything has to convey a wide enough range of ideas and emotion to write an essay about.

I hope this makes sense, I've started my drinking early today. genuine Mexican tequila a friend just brought back from a cruise, how could I resist you?!
#15
^ I disagree with a bit of what you've just said... no one can know what the author intended as well as the author, however, I believe someone can bring much more meaning out of something than the author can with some things.



Thank you.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#16
well. the point of reading poetry imo is to derive your own meanings. there's no right or wrong interpretation of a poem, per se.

I've had people way overanalyze things I've written before, to the point where I actually appreciated it even more, even though I wrote it, because it brought such interesting ideas or emotions out of a reader.

I also don't believe that any author could've ever considered things so deeply to inspire books worth of analyzing before they wrote a poem.

but I'm damn glad that those people could derive their analyzations from it.

I think this makes less sense than what I posted before, but I agree with you I suppose.
#17
everyone interprets what they read in different ways, the author has intentions, but in the end they don't really matter, especially if you are famous and you've been dead for centuries.
what comes up comes out
#19
The alliteration in most places felt a little awkward.

Overall, a real nice rhythm/rhyme to this, Kath.

I did feel you lost it in the last quarter of the piece, and the feeling too. You kinda went too far imo. I got bored and lost interest, and the repetitive energy dampened any emotional ties I had with the piece.

Thus the ending had little payoff for me. I did really even, you know, "get" it. All I could get from it is you were rhyming, really. Your imagery was nice and all but for feeling, nada, I didn't take anything away from this.

But still, nice wording for the most part.

#20
You didn't 'get' it then, really. But that just means I didn't say it in the right way.

I'm going back to writing lyrics and spoken word/poetic prose. Here we go.

Thank you.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#21
I didn't like "aging iris". It felt forced with the rhyme.

Other than that, It's a nice little piece, good shot at eloquence. You definitely have more skill now than the first few pieces I remember reading from you.

I have one worry though ; do you want to go back to your previous style because you feel like it, or because you get a better response with that kind of pieces?

please remember to write for yourself, even though you post here.
I did appreciate this. Thank you.
<3
#22
I want to go back because that's just how it runs from my brain. No worries. I think I'll try crafting within that more, but yes.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#23
You just blew my mind. I had to sit back and catch my breath by the end.


I think I just fell in love with you.
On the eight day we spoke back...

let there be sound.
#24
^ I'm not entirely sure how to answer that. I'm surprisingly bad with words
Thank you.

The actual poem, or the crazy rant I had last night?
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#25
I was referring to the poem, somehow I missed the crazy rant. Now that I've read it though, they are both pure poetry. The first just said it in fewer words.

Never stop writing Katherine, you've got a beautiful talent.
On the eight day we spoke back...

let there be sound.
#26
Let me say this first, you have nice alliteration throughout the piece and some very crafty work on internal rhyming, but I'm going to be a little harsh here, so bear with me, it is given with the best of intentions:

First of all, your explanation is redundant because the piece needs to stand on its own. I'd rather not even read it before I critique.

The problem I have with your work at times, and you've heard this from me before, is content. And I say it with lots of understanding, as someone who has had many combinations of words and phrases that she threw together in her life and while they seemed so pretty and rolled off the tongue, they were essentially meaningless.

Wandering wistful lovers' hands;
we wash the night with welcome tides,
Nice alliteration. "Welcome tides" - the use of plural was a bit awkward but what I don't get is what "welcome tides" are. Did you maybe mean "welcomeD tides"? as in the feeling that comes over you when the hands are touching? The passive voice in the first line turning into "we" in the second is atrocious. Horrible changeover.
alive in firefly alleyways,
suburban meadows and petticoat lace.
Sipping sherry and malt whiskey
on park benches we hold hands,
"firefly alleyways" is a nice expression but I don't get it at all in the connotation of the piece. Are you not in a park? The meadows work with both the park and as a metaphor, but the petticoat lace is just confusing. Are you trying to say you are alive and walking through all those things and wearing lace? Because then you just moved from passive voice, to a "we" to a "she"/"I". Or perhaps both characters are wearing lace? Also I can't understand the use of "benches". Are the characters sitting on many of those? Why not one? Also, the holding hands comes in contradiction to the "wandering hands" from the first line, and if you meant it to be a progression of the relationship, the lines are too far apart to be connected.
and raise our glasses to the things we'll
never understand. Tackle the sciences
with chance, to see the whole sky
reflected in a single glance. Come
This wasn't bad, assuming the raising of glasses is metaphorical, since now we have hands both wandering, holding one another while raising glasses, on a lot of park benches. I didn't like "sciences" again as plural. "science" would have worked so much better. I liked that line though.
(come) dance on the pavements and we'll flutter
like leaves in a light London breeze;
The passive voice returns! It sounds like you are ordering someone to dance, unless you change the verb or the sentence, this doesn't work. London brings images of a city to mind. But then the suburban meadows were the location a moment ago. Or alleyways? Or a park? I'm getting really confused.
you, me and the depths of our long lost
integrity, battling the old and new
with battered umbrellas and always saying
our thank yous. Stare silent still;
"lost integrity", a very complex idea that you threw into the dance, or bench-sitting session that I do not understand at all. It's a great subject to write about but that's the only mention of anything to do with this topic in the piece. It's a lost idea that you threw in the mix. Don't get me started on the umbrellas and thank yous. It's cute, yes. But so unfitting. "Stare silent still" - amazing. What a beautifully alliterated phrase. How it belongs here is beyond me.
this is a watchers war. We dance to music
only we can hear, see the men behind
the man, the whole sky
reflected in a single glance, a
"Watchers war", interesting. Don't know how it related to the battling integrities over old and new. I get it relates with the "stare silent still", but that didn't fit in this piece either. The men/man line was more creepy than anything I've read in a while, although I assume you meant moon/stars... there must be a better way though.
single red shooting star aglow in
your aging iris. Hold the lost and breathe
before you find the time to see this
through. The time to know.
I really liked it. I think it worked well and you managed to keep a topic together for longer than a line. This was lovely.

Say:
no, thank you.
No thank you.


Sorry, had to put that last one in as a pun. But it was a rather simplistic ending, focusing on an element in the piece that wasn't even the major one. What was the major element you ask? I think I may never know. I know that I took a lot of the things that were metaphors and placed them in a literal light, but you have to see how erratic this seems as a piece.

Katherine, please. I know everyone told you this is amazing, and to me it does show great, great, GREAT potential, yes. You have beautiful phrases, you have gorgeous ideas, but you take them all together, mix them into a pile of non-cohesive rant that, yes brings images out and keep people interested... but for me, lacks all meaning at the end of the day.

I know this sounds harsh, and remember, this is only my humble opinion, that defies most others - but take one idea, strip it down to its bare core and write it as focused as a thought can be. Do it for yourself and no one else, because in my opinion, you are being drowned by your own prolific mind.
This is not a pipe
#27
Carmel, ya did what I did at first. You read this as if it was refering to a singular, instead of a multitude, way of life, etc etc. I'll let Katherine explain this properly if she feels she has to, but you need to read this as refering to many, not one.
#28
Honestly, this had so much meaning in it for me. This defines a part of my life that I simply can't get to grips with and the thing that's tearing me away from everything. Sure, seemingly ONE person understood it. But one whole person understood it and I believe I said, yes, through the boom, boom, boom images and whatever, what I meant to say. This isn't singular, this is about a whole group of people, a whole underground motion, if you will. I don't think people did think it was amazing, because I didn't manage to connect what I was trying to say with most.

Yes, I will try to focus in on single images, just for you, but I just don't think that way. I think in continuous motion, film.

The explanation wasn't trying to stop the piece standing alone, I believe that to some it does stand alone. To those who don't get the first, maybe the explanation can stand alone. However, I just tried to sum it up quickly and ended up ranting because it was something I needed to get out literally.

Thank you loads for reading and for caring. I think you slightly got the wrong end of the stick, but yeah, it was probably a much bigger and easier to grasp end than the other one.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#29
Are you all crazy? Are you all completely nuts? She's saying something here, and guess who she's talking about? Poetry goes as far as entertainment, friends, and it goes into the hearts and minds of those who allow it to, but sometimes it's beyond that, it's past the alliteration and what she's typing out with line breaks and flow, and sometimes, like she has, you just have to come out and say exactly what you're talking about because the meaning just doesn't mean enough.

As much as I love the lot of you, your writing anyway, your typed personalities, the intellect I pretend is there because there is some notion of it in your posts, I'm rather baffled by what a lot of you don't say. Critiquing poetry isn't just about what rhyme schemes are there, or how it flowed - do you remember english class? The weeks spent on symbolism, and you could never figure out exactly how the teacher could reach so far into the poem to pull this concept, which totally makes sense now, out of a poem about Birch trees? Come on, guys, this girl from Manchester isn't plowing her away around bushes - she wrote an essay about YOU. Me. Her. This is what we have, and this is what we're capable of. There's a point where this forum is a little more than a bulletin board, and those of you that keep coming back after 3, 4, even 6 years know that this place is a breeding ground of love, intelligence, and skill, and one of loose family ties, as odd as an internet forum is concerned - and we're all a part of this, you know, and it deserves our concern, of which we have much, as evident in that corridor to these threads!

Read what each other have to say, and instead of just reading it and playing it in your minds, or going as far as reading it aloud, think about it even, what's it mean - it doesn't happen often, but it happens when one of you really, really has something to say and it's beautiful when someone picks up on it and says 'I understand that, please, give me more. Inspire me. I WILL act on such words.' That's what this internet, worldwide open lines of communication is all about. Spread what we're here for, not the stereotype friends have about the geeks who spend all day on the computer talking to people in other parts of the world. Use what you learn here wisely, and we'll all be the better for it. For now, ladies and gentlemen, I bid you adieu. Bones, thank you for your words.
#30
I see both sides of the fence here, wifey... which is definitely not what you were looking for from me. But, alas its what I have. Let me explain.

I read this once and was staggered by teh beauty with which it rolled off my tongue. By the simplicity and yet extreme complexity of the images. You've said a lot, love. You've poured out your heart in some form or another and it shows. I could hear you reading this, and I've never heard you speak (outside of singing). I could feel the rise and fall of your voice etc. You're very accomplished at this aspect of writing. No doubts, probably my favorite. Your writing just lends itself to the spoken word... almost slam style. So, that is... yeah. Gorgeous.


But what Carmel is saying is just as highly valid. I felt what you were saying... I did.... but when I re-read what you wrote... when the shock and awe of the sexiness of the words wore off... this was jumbled. You jump from image and idea to image and idea. Each one is an island of beautiful naked women bouncing on trampolines (read: exciting and gorgeous), but to draw them all together and say something more, is where it lacks. I see where it went, this is one of your better pieces about doing better with this; however its built up over time and I figure I'll say it now. You need to tie your mountains together. You have mountain after mountain of poetic sex; and in between you are asking me to make jumps which I'm not prepared to make. You just need to give us a bridge between the mountains.

The end had me in goosebumps. (well, not the end end, but the end of the big section).... it was so exciting to read down the page. I really enjoyed this a lot; but I can see where others wouldn't... and it was less lovely on the second and third reads. I wouldn't change this one... honestly, I could see this being publishable, but just keep the other stuff in mind for future. I can tell you wrote this for yourself; but it still affected me. What more can I ask for?

The very end bugged me. Felt like you choose and underdeveloped section to end on. However, I love the almost apathetic tone it gives as a way to just cut this off too.
#31
Quote by DigUpHerBones
Wandering wistful lovers' hands;
we wash the night with welcome tides,
alive in firefly alleyways,
suburban meadows and petticoat lace.
Sipping sherry and malt whiskey
on park benches we hold hands,
and raise our glasses to the things we'll
never understand. Tackle the sciences
with chance, to see the whole sky
reflected in a single glance. Come
dance on the pavements and we'll flutter
like leaves in a light London breeze;
you, me and the depths of our long lost
integrity, battling the old and new
with battered umbrellas and always saying
our thank yous. Stare silent still;
this is a watchers war. We dance to music
only we can hear, see the men behind
the man, the whole sky
reflected in a single glance, a
single red shooting star aglow in
your aging iris. Hold the lost and breathe
before you find the time to see this
through. The time to know.

Say:
no, thank you.


welcome to the product of my day.



My good lord that ROCKED. I would maybe make the last seven or eight lines a bit longer to keep with the rhythm a bit more, but this is really good. Best I've read all day hands down. The imagery rocks, I saw a whole story while I was reading this. Right on man.

C4C? Jokers .. in sig.
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DAMN YOU I SIGGED HER FIRST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


I demand, in the name of the rt, that you change your sig...


NOW!!!!!!!!!




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RT meet!! Of epic global proportions!!!*
*world may asplode due to unprecedented levels of awesome.
#32
Zach and Carmel, thank you.

untamed, I'll get to it soon.
There's only one thing we can do to thwart the plot of these albino shape-shifting lizard BITCHES!
#33
If you give in to having to explain your piece, you've failed.

Just throwing my pancake on the pile.
マリ「しあわっせはーあるいってこないだーからあるいってゆっくんだねーん 
いっちにっちいっぽみーかでさんぽ
 さーんぽすすんでにっほさっがるー 
じーんせいはっわんつー!ぱんち・・・


"Success is as dangerous as failure. Hope is as hollow as fear." - from Tao Te Ching