Rev. #1 02-25-2013

Her heart pulsed with real, red blood.
Cradled in her arms
swaddled in a pink cotton blanket,
a gift.

He pinched her on the ass and asked for a sandwich.

She was a breeze through an open door,
a cloud filled with wildflowers,
a mirror of her desires.

He thinks she is silly, but says nothing.

Years later the announcer will step in front of the playback
to explain every gory detail.

Today giggles are louder than doubts.

Quote:Original

Cradled in her arms and swaddled in a pink cotton blanket,
it pulsed with real, red blood.

He said it was cute and asked for a sandwich.

Blowing through the door attached to a delicate arm and filled to the brim
with wildflowers dangling, it was only a mirror of her wants.

He thinks she is silly, but says nothing.

It will be years before the announcer steps in front of the playback
to explain every gory detail. Today hope is strong.

Oh. Somebody dies. I don't know who (I'd have killed the husband for the sandwich demand!) -- does she kill the baby? Post natal depression?

Excellent work on the mood, Mark, I think unless I'm being especially thick, we need just one small key.

Where did you get her killing the baby?

I must've failed miserably. I will look at it again.

Thanks for the feedback.

EDIT: What baby?

What else is swaddled in a pink cotton blanket?

Anything can be swaddled in a blanket.

Look I get it, it sucks. I will try again.

I was just letting you know. There is no baby.

Thanks for your candor.

A Hot Dog covered with ketchup perhaps?

Thanks for your thoughts and kind words. I still think it could be improved and will try to do that.

I don't think this belongs in serious critique. It is empty of meaning and content. It is a crossword puzzle at best. and of course there is a baby connotation, 'cradled in her arms...' to miss the obvious for the obscure is just as slack as missing the cliche for the original; if you didn't expect that then maybe it is not the fault of the reader's insight. what I mean is, i am surprised by your surprise at someone thinking there was a baby involved, when it seems the obvious conclusion... one surly should think on more levels than 2 or 3 or even 4 or 5...

further, as a poem of obscurity, it needs more 'concept'; if you are trying to play with concepts then i could write them on the back of a postage stamp.

however, there are some ideas that penetrate, such as 'it was only a mirror of her wants' and 'pulsed with real, red blood' that are very inspiring.

also, this poem has made me think more than i care to, a bit like Russel in front of a paradox. I am fascinated but irritated in equal measure

(02-21-2013, 02:51 AM)Mark Wrote:  Cradled in her arms and swaddled in a pink cotton blanket,
it pulsed with real, red blood.

He said it was cute and asked for a sandwich.

Blowing through the door attached to a delicate arm and filled to the brim
with wildflowers dangling, it was only a mirror of her wants.

He thinks she is silly, but says nothing.

It will be years before the announcer steps in front of the playback
to explain every gory detail. Today hope is strong.

Okay Mark, I may be horribly off can I guess at the meaning?

Handbasket is a nod to the relationship going to hell in a...

What is swaddled is her heart that she wants to give to him.

He mistakes the basket for a picnic basket and asks for a sandwich. He wants a domestic partner.

She sees dreams and wild flowers.

The gory remnants of her heart will be seen much later when it all goes wrong.

Like I said I'm probably off, but that was my read.

Best,

Todd

(02-21-2013, 11:52 AM)Todd Wrote:  Okay Mark, I may be horribly off can I guess at the meaning?

Handbasket is a nod to the relationship going to hell in a...

What is swaddled is her heart that she wants to give to him.

He mistakes the basket for a picnic basket and asks for a sandwich. He wants a domestic partner.

She sees dreams and wild flowers.

The gory remnants of her heart will be seen much later when it all goes wrong.

Like I said I'm probably off, but that was my read.

Best,

Todd

God bless you Todd

Now what do I do to get that across to a majority rather than having everyone think I am being purposefully vague and unclear?

Thanks for all the feedback.

EDIT:

Quote:Handbasket is a nod to the relationship going to hell in a...

^ that is the key . . .

---

(02-21-2013, 11:34 AM)shemthepenman Wrote:  further, as a poem of obscurity, it needs more 'concept'; if you are trying to play with concepts then i could write them on the back of a postage stamp.

If this poem is obscure it is not intentional. Nevertheless your feedback is appreciated.

(02-21-2013, 11:34 AM)shemthepenman Wrote:  I am fascinated but irritated in equal measure

Irritated how?

(02-21-2013, 11:34 AM)shemthepenman Wrote:  I don't think this belongs in serious critique.

The various 'levels' of critique have nothing to do with the skill of the author, but rather the level of in-depth critique desired.

I realize that I am a novice, but I still desire in-depth critique if anyone is willing to give it.

(02-21-2013, 02:51 AM)Mark Wrote:  Cradled in her arms and swaddled in a pink cotton blanket,
it pulsed with real, red blood.

He said it was cute and asked for a sandwich.

Blowing through the door attached to a delicate arm and filled to the brim
with wildflowers dangling, it was only a mirror of her wants.

He thinks she is silly, but says nothing.

It will be years before the announcer steps in front of the playback
to explain every gory detail. Today hope is strong.

Holy shit leanne...anyone could read this and realise he ATE the baby. I apologise, mark, for leanne's incredible lack of insight.
Then, after he ate the baby, he was surprised that his sister, the baby's mother and
his wife, came in to his den with a bunch of girly flowers, and suggested that another sandwich was in order.Good stuff mark These rednecks need some good press.Seriously, though. There is too much missing, mark. Terse verse needs detail and depth. A lot in a little. Unless we all KNOW what this is about , say a news item or well documented story from a known source, the piece loses credibility.

Best,
tectak

(02-21-2013, 04:52 PM)tectak Wrote:  Holy shit leanne...anyone could read this and realise he ATE the baby. I apologise, mark, for leanne's incredible lack of insight.
Then, after he ate the baby, he was surprised that his sister, the baby's mother and
his wife, came in to his den with a bunch of girly flowers, and suggested that another sandwich was in order.Good stuff mark These rednecks need some good press.

Why does everyone think it is fine to have a laugh because my poem has problems?

I totally don't get what is so fucking funny. You act as if I had tried to insult your intelligence by asking for feedback.

I would never belittle your work.

(02-21-2013, 04:52 PM)tectak Wrote:  Seriously, though. There is too much missing, mark. Terse verse needs detail and depth. A lot in a little. Unless we all KNOW what this is about , say a news item or well documented story from a known source, the piece loses credibility.

You honest opinion is appreciated, however your having fun at my expense is not.

Mark,

Now let me give you some comments on this one:

(02-21-2013, 02:51 AM)Mark Wrote:  Cradled in her arms and swaddled in a pink cotton blanket,
it pulsed with real, red blood.--I don't know if there's any value in the ambiguity of "it". I could be wrong but her heart might be a better replacement

He said it was cute and asked for a sandwich.--no issues with this line. I think the her heart earlier would bring this contrast out more

Blowing through the door attached to a delicate arm and filled to the brim
with wildflowers dangling, it was only a mirror of her wants.--I do like some of what you're doing here. Showing the how different these two are from the beginning. I'm not fond of "attached to a delicate arm" The rest of it though I like. The "only a mirror of her wants" is very insightful.

He thinks she is silly, but says nothing.

It will be years before the announcer steps in front of the playback
to explain every gory detail. Today hope is strong.--This is a bit of a shift but doable. I think you could shorten this some: Years later the announcer will review the playback... (maybe). You also may want to have the hope line sit alone own set apart by a strophe break. I think hope is strong is a bit too abstract. Replace strong with a vibrant image and I think you move a step forward.

This feels a few revisions away. The core of it is how different the man and the woman are and what their expectations of love are.

I think you also may want to look at the man's dialogue and express it more with imagery.

Just thoughts. I hope some of that helps.

Best,

Todd

Everything you've said makes sense. Thanks and I will give it a go.

Cheers Todd

Thanks Mark and Todd for a timely lesson for keeping my flippant remarks to myself and trying a bit harder to understand exactly what is being said, as with modern art modern poetry makes me very impatient if at first I fail to grasp what is presented, Todd's summary has enlightened me somewhat and am looking forward to the edit! Cheers.

(02-21-2013, 11:08 PM)Mark Wrote:  

(02-21-2013, 04:52 PM)tectak Wrote:  Holy shit leanne...anyone could read this and realise he ATE the baby. I apologise, mark, for leanne's incredible lack of insight.
Then, after he ate the baby, he was surprised that his sister, the baby's mother and
his wife, came in to his den with a bunch of girly flowers, and suggested that another sandwich was in order.Good stuff mark These rednecks need some good press.

Why does everyone think it is fine to have a laugh because my poem has problems?

I totally don't get what is so fucking funny. You act as if I had tried to insult your intelligence by asking for feedback.

I would never belittle your work.

(02-21-2013, 04:52 PM)tectak Wrote:  Seriously, though. There is too much missing, mark. Terse verse needs detail and depth. A lot in a little. Unless we all KNOW what this is about , say a news item or well documented story from a known source, the piece loses credibility.

You honest opinion is appreciated, however your having fun at my expense is not.

Mark,
This is not like you. You have skulked around these dusty corridors for a long time and you know more than most that criticism comes in many colours. It is to your credit that you take ANY criticism in serious crit seriously.....but you should by now be aware that sometimes the critics get a little nervous if what they feel about a piece is dangerously close to insulting.....a little humour should be embraced, a lot of humour should be telling you that the critic is finding it difficult to find the right words.If the piece elicits gales of laughter it is YOUR fault, not the critics; from my viepoint, anyway. The others may be just a bunch of piss-taking bastards.
Best,
tectak

piss-taking bastards sums it up.

Popeye be flippant on any thread you damn well please. It isn't an issue.

To all: Critique is a messy process. I've read poems that I've had such a negative reaction to I wanted to hurt the poet physically. This poem and these critiques don't even come close to the intensity I've seen, experienced, and dealt with.

Could we just hit reset. Please?

Much appreciated

(02-21-2013, 10:00 AM)Anglia0730 Wrote:  

(02-21-2013, 02:51 AM)Mark Wrote:  Cradled in her arms and swaddled in a pink cotton blanket,
it pulsed with real, red blood.

He said it was cute and asked for a sandwich.

Blowing through the door attached to a delicate arm and filled to the brim
with wildflowers dangling, it was only a mirror of her wants.

He thinks she is silly, but says nothing.

It will be years before the announcer steps in front of the playback
to explain every gory detail. Today hope is strong.

There is no baby....it can be anything you want it to be.
He did like what he saw her do
and the one to blow thru the door....the door was the glass mirror OMG....Brilliant Poem...Don't change a thing....

yes, it's red sports car. ....respond to the poem, not to those who give feedback.

---

i've read the whole thread, my take is this, if most people don't get it, then the there's a problem. i would never have got it in a hundred years. the fisrt image screams out to me "baby" as a metaphor it doesn't work simply because the literal image is too strong. i'm presuming todd got it simply because some didn't, often you'll see those who reply later are nearer the mark (no pun intended) because they now know what it is not.

back to the poem;
the sandwich line; again the image feels literal and in relationship with the first couplet.

the wildflowers dangling come into play as a metaphor but only as far as mourning/loss, which could denote the death of her of the child.


the reader reads, the poet writes. both are two differnt animals. for me this poem feels okay as a baby poem but lacks as a to hell in a handcart/basket poem.

thick skin mark, you have to grow one, we all do, many of my poems are worse than this which isn't that bad. you need to do an edit. don't bite the hand that feeds you (a metaphor for people who give you feedback) if you don't like it or think it silly, just say thank you, by all means ask questions as to why but be pleasant about it. is it a red sportcar in the basket

(02-21-2013, 02:51 AM)Mark Wrote:  Cradled in her arms and swaddled in a pink cotton blanket,
it pulsed with real, red blood.

He said it was cute and asked for a sandwich.

Blowing through the door attached to a delicate arm and filled to the brim
with wildflowers dangling, it was only a mirror of her wants.

He thinks she is silly, but says nothing.

It will be years before the announcer steps in front of the playback
to explain every gory detail. Today hope is strong.

(02-22-2013, 07:27 AM)tectak Wrote:  This is not like you.

Look I am really frustrated lately with my lack of skill and I'm sure that contributed, but take into consideration that some of us are scared shit-less when we post a poem of what you 'poetry gods' will say.

All in all I apologize for allowing myself to react the way I did. No hard feelings?

(02-25-2013, 04:19 PM)billy Wrote:  thick skin mark

Good advice. Hard advice to follow, but good advice still.

And it actually was a red sports car in pre-production but the budget got cut.

I have attempted a revision.

(02-21-2013, 02:51 AM)Mark Wrote:  Rev. #1 02-25-2013

Her heart pulsed with real, red blood.
Cradled in her arms
swaddled in a pink cotton blanket,
a gift.--much clearer, Mark. You may want to add a "then" before swaddled.

He pinched her on the ass and asked for a sandwich.

She was a breeze through an open door,
a cloud filled with wildflowers,
a mirror of her desires.--best part of the poem and much improved

He thinks she is silly, but says nothing.

Years later the announcer will step in front of the playback
to explain every gorey detail.--gory unless you mean the artist

Today giggles are louder than doubts.--less abstract ending is an improvement.

It's a step forward Mark. Good first edit.