The other side
#1
Edit 1

Looking back, our hollows
became a sink-hole.
Your lipstick sealed
it's smile with melted wax, held straight
even from a sideways glance.
On rainy days we could pull the grey
from our blue, those days I knew
the curl of your lip without looking.

Things only move down in here,
mouths are filled with dirt,
faded old boxes, moldy with memories
slide away unseen. sounds smash insults
just to be heard, ground is given away.

But every good sink-hole is an hour glass,
if you hold your breath
the narrowing will pass.
Spewed out onto the surface
I force my eyes open,
and step on each grain that glistens
before someone turns me over again.



Original
Looking back, our hollows
became a sink hole.
Your lipstick sealed
it's smile with melted wax,
held back from a sideways
glance.
There were days we could pull the grey
from our blue and I knew
without looking.

Things only move down in here,
mouths get filled with dirt,
old boxes, mouldy with memories
slide away unseen. Even a syringe
that carries the cure needs blood
before it can boast of success.

Every good sink hole is an hour glass
if you hold your breath
the narrowing will pass.
Spewed out onto the surface
I step on each grain that glistens
before someone turns me over.

If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
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#2
This is great. The one part that tripped me up was

"that carries the cure needs blood
before it can boast of success."

I really like the syringe line break before it, but these two lines fall flat for me. Especially the syringe boasting of success.

It's a very nice read altogether, though.
"Writing about music is like dancing about architecture."
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#3
(09-10-2017, 02:07 AM)Wjames Wrote:  This is great. The one part that tripped me up was

"that carries the cure needs blood
before it can boast of success."

I really like the syringe line break before it, but these two lines fall flat for me. Especially the syringe boasting of success.

It's a very nice read altogether, though.

Thanks for the feedback and I agree those two lines were added because I thought they sounded clever ? But on reflection they don't really help move the poem along, thanks for calling them out, I will do some work for an edit. Best Keith

If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
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#4
(09-07-2017, 03:42 AM)Keith Wrote:  Looking back, our hollows
became a sink hole.
Your lipstick sealed
it's smile with melted wax,
held back from a sideways                maybe better without the enjambment. but then it´s sort of an opposite to the last line of this stanza... so ok. separates the subject and the adressed person somewhat. 
glance.
There were days we could pull the grey
from our blue and I knew
without looking.                           can´t really come up with an image for being able to pull the grey from blue.

Things only move down in here,  
mouths get filled with dirt,
old boxes, mouldy with memories            
slide away unseen. Even a syringe
that carries the cure needs blood
before it can boast of success.             so the cure lies in memories? interesting together with their moldiness. can´t really relate to boasting and success in the context of the poem. 

Every good sink hole is an hour glass
if you hold your breath
the narrowing will pass.                    i have sort of a logical problem: holding your breath expands the thorax. so maybe: let out your breath. but then of course it would destroy the symbolic meaning of holding one´s breath. 
Spewed out onto the surface
I step on each grain that glistens
before someone turns me over.       i like that line but maybe "before i´m turned over" would be better, because otherwise i wonder who is the someone turning the subject over?

i like the metaphor of a narrowing sink hole.. problems accumulating. then holding one´s breath as the only solution since there seems to be no real solution. but still the substance (grains of sand) is beautiful (glistening).
since the whole poem is quite cryptic (to me) i am not sure if this is the direction in which you wanted the reader to go.
...
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#5
(09-15-2017, 03:27 AM)vagabond Wrote:  
(09-07-2017, 03:42 AM)Keith Wrote:  Looking back, our hollows
became a sink hole.
Your lipstick sealed
it's smile with melted wax,
held back from a sideways                maybe better without the enjambment. but then it´s sort of an opposite to the last line of this stanza... so ok. separates the subject and the adressed person somewhat. 
glance.
There were days we could pull the grey
from our blue and I knew
without looking.                           can´t really come up with an image for being able to pull the grey from blue.

Things only move down in here,  
mouths get filled with dirt,
old boxes, mouldy with memories            
slide away unseen. Even a syringe
that carries the cure needs blood
before it can boast of success.             so the cure lies in memories? interesting together with their moldiness. can´t really relate to boasting and success in the context of the poem. 

Every good sink hole is an hour glass
if you hold your breath
the narrowing will pass.                    i have sort of a logical problem: holding your breath expands the thorax. so maybe: let out your breath. but then of course it would destroy the symbolic meaning of holding one´s breath. 
Spewed out onto the surface
I step on each grain that glistens
before someone turns me over.       i like that line but maybe "before i´m turned over" would be better, because otherwise i wonder who is the someone turning the subject over?

i like the metaphor of a narrowing sink hole.. problems accumulating. then holding one´s breath as the only solution since there seems to be no real solution. but still the substance (grains of sand) is beautiful (glistening).
since the whole poem is quite cryptic (to me) i am not sure if this is the direction in which you wanted the reader to go.

Many thanks Vagabond I have used your comments and others in the edit, really appreciate the feedback and the help. Best Keith

If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
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#6
(09-07-2017, 03:42 AM)Keith Wrote:  Edit 1

Looking back, our hollows
became a sink-hole.
Your lipstick sealed
it's smile with melted wax, held straight
even from a sideways glance.
On rainy days we could pull the grey
from our blue, those days I knew
the curl of your lip without looking.

Things only move down in here,
mouths are filled with dirt,
faded old boxes, moldy with memories
slide away unseen. sounds smash insults
just to be heard, ground is given away.
i get a vivid image now.. somehow i´d put the lines "sounds smash insults..." directly after "mouths are filled with dirt".. and make the moldy boxes sliding away in this crumbling ground the ending of the stanza.


But every good sink-hole is an hour glass,
if you hold your breath
the narrowing will pass.
Spewed out onto the surface
I force my eyes open,                    i like this new aspect of the effects of what was going on before
and step on each grain that glistens
before someone turns me over again.



Original
Looking back, our hollows
became a sink hole.
Your lipstick sealed
it's smile with melted wax,
held back from a sideways              
glance.
There were days we could pull the grey
from our blue and I knew
without looking.
                       
Things only move down in here,  
mouths get filled with dirt,
old boxes, mouldy with memories            
slide away unseen. Even a syringe
that carries the cure needs blood
before it can boast of success.            

Every good sink hole is an hour glass
if you hold your breath
the narrowing will pass.                  
Spewed out onto the surface
I step on each grain that glistens
before someone turns me over.
...
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#7
Thank you V I like your suggestion and I believe it will tighten that stanza, thanks for the continued help, Keith

If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
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