I am posting in this sub, not because I think the poem is especially good, but because I need proper feedback on it. I have shown It to one other person, a friend I trust not to blow smoke up my ***.

I would be very interested to know what people think it is about. I would also accept comments on why it is either good or bad. I do not consider it finished but I'm not sure what would take it there.
It has been pushed and poked a little,
I get cutting it back but I'm trying to get as much detail in there as it will hold.
I'm also not quite ready to cut it so heavily as has been suggested, don't know why, might be my stubborn streak


revised

Skin is like paper, dry, etched with soft grain.
Delicate and somehow pleasant to the touch.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of warm damask.

Skin wraps us, casing, folded gently
Caressing us like broad arms, protective and caring.
Curving and taut, tailored to the inch in fit and cut.

Skin is fragile, yet supple and lithe, laid over flesh
Bent and twisted it is held, like water in a creek bed.
Breaking like a butterfly's wings, dashed by the wind.

Skin is browned and black, blistered and burnt.
Layered from beneath, fire given life’s touch. - not sure what I want to do with this line
Peeling like ribbons, freed of the vestige of thews.

Skin is so thin and slight, so easily sundered and broken
It cracks suddenly like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.
It is dashed like an innocent dream upon the harsh dawn.

Skin carries a tale authored, in forlorn coloured inks of pain and regret.
The days of its owner is scored in words, pale and mute.
A life of times on a surface, laid bare for one with eyes.



Skin is like paper - first posted

Skin is like paper, dry, etched in soft grain.
Delicate and somehow warm to the touch.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of heavy damask.

Skin is like paper, fragile, supple and lithe.
Torn like butterflies wings, dashed by wind.
Bent and twisted it clings like water in a creek bed.

Skin is like paper, casing, folded and wrapped
Caressing us like broad arms, protective and caring.
Curving and taught, tailored to the inch in cut and fit.

Skin is like paper, browned and black, blistered and burnt.
It boils from beneath, living fire giving it life’s touch.
Peeling like ribbon, freed of the vestige of flesh.

Skin is like paper, thin and slight, easily broken
It breaks like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.
It is dashed like an innocent dream upon the harsh dawn.

Skin is like paper, it carries the tale of times past.
The life of its owner is written in words, pale and mute.
A life of times on a surface, laid bare to one with eyes.


thank you to all who read this and leave appropriate comment

Hello RedSmurf,


I'm not sure if there is a guiding metaphor beyond the comparison you make throughout our life events being written on our skin like one may write on paper. It may not be at all what this is about. Since I am unsure of my interpretation at this point, this will be more of a technical critique focusing on what works in my opinion, and what bogs this down. Here goes:

(07-04-2015, 07:30 PM)TheOnlyRedSmurf Wrote:  I am posting in this sub, not because I think the poem is especially good, but because  need proper feedback on it. I have shown It to one other person, a friend I trust not to blow smoke up my ***.

I would be very interested to know what people think it is about. I would also accept comments on why it is either good or bad. I do not consider it finished but I'm not sure what would take it there.

Skin is like paper--The title should serve as the placeholder that allows you to eliminate the repetition of the line within the poem, which gets old really fast. I'd suggest eliminating it everywhere else in the poem. 


As always with poems, you are looking for the exact amount of words necessary. One extra word makes the poem worse. I think what you need here is the essential images that make your comparison and nothing more. This poem feels like a marble block with the sculpture inside only partially rendered. My comments will be meant to chip away at the marble.


You seem to have a lot of standalone adjectives, or lists of adjectives. You may want to consider cutting all of them, if you must replace any of them try building an image or images that suggests them. These include: dry, fragile, supple, lithe, bent, twisted, protective, caring, curving, taught, brown, black, blistered, burnt, thin, and slight. There are more modifiers but those are the ones that stand out on initial reading. I'm going to pare this down to possibly the essential images to see where that leaves us.

Skin is like paper, dry, etched in soft grain.
Delicate and somehow warm to the touch.--A lot of words to say very little.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of heavy damask.

Skin is like paper, fragile, supple and lithe.
Torn like butterflies wings, dashed by wind.
Bent and twisted it clings like water in a creek bed.

Skin is like paper, casing, folded and wrapped
Caressing us like broad arms, protective and caring.--Seems to add little
Curving and taught, tailored to the inch in cut and fit.--(not that I like taught, but do you mean taut?) should in be and? Not seeing much in the entire strophe.

Skin is like paper, browned and black, blistered and burnt.
It boils from beneath, living fire giving it life’s touch.--Feels a bit too over wrought.
Peeling like ribbon, freed of the vestige of flesh.

Skin is like paper, thin and slight, easily broken--If it breaks like fine china, I don't need to be told it's easily broken.
It breaks like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.
It is dashed like an innocent dream upon the harsh dawn.--This just feels poetic without serving your comparison.

Skin is like paper, it carries the tale of times past.
The life of its owner is written in words, pale and mute.--I think it's a mistake to just say this so directly. Trust the reader more.
A life of times on a surface, laid bare to one with eyes.

Okay so without regard to punctuation, capitalization or line breaks. We are left with this:


Skin is like paper


etched in soft grain.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of heavy damask.

Torn like butterflies wings, dashed by wind.
it clings like water in a creek bed.

It boils from beneath, living fire
Peeling like ribbon, freed of the vestige of flesh.

It breaks like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.

it carries the tale of times past.
laid bare to one with eyes.


I realize that's pretty extreme. Just trying to give you another look to consider as a possible starting point.

thank you to all who read this and leave appropriate comment

I hope the comments help.

Best,

Todd

(07-04-2015, 07:30 PM)TheOnlyRedSmurf Wrote:  Skin is like paper


just thoughts to consider:
Skin is like paper, dry, etched in soft grain. Perhaps 'skin is like paper, etched with soft grain'
Delicate and somehow warm to the touch.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of heavy damask. "heavy" feels a bit heavy.  Maybe it is subtle damask?

Skin is like paper, fragile, supple and lithe. using paper over and over is not necessary. "skin is .." at the most, or perhaps even remove that too.
Torn like butterflies wings, dashed by wind.
Bent and twisted it clings like water in a creek bed. clings like water seems off, since water in a creek generally isn't clinging but flowing. a moving word instead perhaps. unless you meant those times when water catches on a stick in the current and creates a ripple, but that was not very clear.

Skin is like paper, casing, folded and wrapped
Caressing us like broad arms, protective and caring. skin gets caressed, but hardly caresses. i'm thinking 'wrapping us' works better. what you're getting at is good though.
Curving and taught, tailored to the inch in cut and fit.

Skin is like paper, browned and black, blistered and burnt. 
It boils from beneath, living fire giving it life’s touch.
Peeling like ribbon, freed of the vestige of flesh.

Skin is like paper, thin and slight, easily broken
It breaks like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.
It is dashed like an innocent dream upon the harsh dawn.

Skin is like paper, it carries the tale of times past.
The life of its owner is written in words, pale and mute.
A life of times on a surface, laid bare to one with eyes. skipping down here. don't want to over-comment. but "to one with eyes" isn't necessary. "laid bare" says enough.

I really like what this poem is becoming. Skin is amazing, and it also speaks of the person, which you tied in some at the end.

You compare skin to more than paper, even though that's your title and theme. Because China is not really like paper, neither is a creek. So perhaps this poem is not just about skin being like paper. Or if it is, you may want to stick with just paper-like comparisons. But I do like the comparison to the ripples of a creek.

There's a whole lot of words going on here. It comes across a bit technical because of so many adjective lists I guess. Some of them are good. But we need to simplify I think.

I like where you start touching on the story skin can carry. More could be developed with that.

Perhaps my favorite line: Torn like butterflies wings, dashed by wind.
(come to think of it, "butterfly wings" may be correct)

Keep writing.

thanks for those two inputs. the poem is about self harm, the ritual and repetition as well as the secret nature of the act.
people who self harm or self injure 'write' on their skin

I will work more on the metaphor for the next re-write. it will be some time before i get back here, but thank you again.

(07-07-2015, 01:53 PM)HannahRose Wrote:  There's a lot of very rich imagery here - each on there own are enjoyable and elegant little paintings - but I think if you want to create something that has greater impact, and sense of self-certainty, you need to pull back, boil down to the *thing* you actually want to say, and de-clutter. You say that this is a poem about ritual and secrecy in self-harm - is it important to you that this is apparent to a reader? Because at the moment that central *meaning* is not immediately apparent.

Hope the re-writes go well!

the language is more specific to the SI community but it would also be nice if a wider range of people understood, but that is the point of the last line, you have to have the right eyes to read the story
there is a revision above but little culling, I'm not sure I can say what I want how I want with significantly fewer words, I want it to be a calm but gentle painting of a misunderstood act

Let me give you a couple comments on the revision:

(07-04-2015, 07:30 PM)TheOnlyRedSmurf Wrote:  revised

Skin is like paper, dry, etched with soft grain.--How do you etch with soft grain?
Delicate and somehow pleasant to the touch.--Pleasant is worse than warm because it is more abstract, less sensory, and says less. Again, these throwaway adjectives delicate and pleasant hurt your poem. They weigh it down. Somehow is also a vague qualifier that adds nothing for you.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of warm damask.

Skin wraps us, casing, folded gently
Caressing us like broad arms, protective and caring.--Same comment with the adjectives here. I'll stop mentioning it now, as I'm sure you get the point.
Curving and taut, tailored to the inch in fit and cut.

Skin is fragile, yet supple and lithe, laid over flesh
Bent and twisted it is held, like water in a creek bed.
Breaking like a butterfly's wings, dashed by the wind.

Skin is browned and black, blistered and burnt.
Layered from beneath, fire given life’s touch. - not sure what I want to do with this line
Peeling like ribbons, freed of the vestige of thews.

Skin is so thin and slight, so easily sundered and broken
It cracks suddenly like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.
It is dashed like an innocent dream upon the harsh dawn.

Skin carries a tale authored, in forlorn coloured inks of pain and regret.--How do we know what a forlorn coloured ink is? This is simply the author trying to infuse the characteristic into a noun without earning it with a good image. This is also what's being done with "of pain and regret". They don't really accomplish what you're trying to use when you cop put with this construction and again attempt to infuse characteristics that your imagery hasn't earned for you. This needs a lot more thought to work.
The days of its owner is scored in words, pale and mute.
A life of times on a surface, laid bare for one with eyes.



Skin is like paper - first posted

Skin is like paper, dry, etched in soft grain.
Delicate and somehow warm to the touch.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of heavy damask.

Skin is like paper, fragile, supple and lithe.
Torn like butterflies wings, dashed by wind.
Bent and twisted it clings like water in a creek bed.

Skin is like paper, casing, folded and wrapped
Caressing us like broad arms, protective and caring.
Curving and taught, tailored to the inch in cut and fit.

Skin is like paper, browned and black, blistered and burnt.
It boils from beneath, living fire giving it life’s touch.
Peeling like ribbon, freed of the vestige of flesh.

Skin is like paper, thin and slight, easily broken
It breaks like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.
It is dashed like an innocent dream upon the harsh dawn.

Skin is like paper, it carries the tale of times past.
The life of its owner is written in words, pale and mute.
A life of times on a surface, laid bare to one with eyes.


thank you to all who read this and leave appropriate comment

So just some basic thoughts for you. I hope they help.

Best,

Todd

(07-04-2015, 09:03 PM)Todd Wrote:  Hello RedSmurf,


I'm not sure if there is a guiding metaphor beyond the comparison you make throughout our life events being written on our skin like one may write on paper. It may not be at all what this is about. Since I am unsure of my interpretation at this point, this will be more of a technical critique focusing on what works in my opinion, and what bogs this down. Here goes:

(07-04-2015, 07:30 PM)TheOnlyRedSmurf Wrote:  I am posting in this sub, not because I think the poem is especially good, but because  need proper feedback on it. I have shown It to one other person, a friend I trust not to blow smoke up my ***.

I would be very interested to know what people think it is about. I would also accept comments on why it is either good or bad. I do not consider it finished but I'm not sure what would take it there.

Skin is like paper--The title should serve as the placeholder that allows you to eliminate the repetition of the line within the poem, which gets old really fast. I'd suggest eliminating it everywhere else in the poem. 


As always with poems, you are looking for the exact amount of words necessary. One extra word makes the poem worse. I think what you need here is the essential images that make your comparison and nothing more. This poem feels like a marble block with the sculpture inside only partially rendered. My comments will be meant to chip away at the marble.


You seem to have a lot of standalone adjectives, or lists of adjectives. You may want to consider cutting all of them, if you must replace any of them try building an image or images that suggests them. These include: dry, fragile, supple, lithe, bent, twisted, protective, caring, curving, taught, brown, black, blistered, burnt, thin, and slight. There are more modifiers but those are the ones that stand out on initial reading. I'm going to pare this down to possibly the essential images to see where that leaves us.

Skin is like paper, dry, etched in soft grain.
Delicate and somehow warm to the touch.--A lot of words to say very little.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of heavy damask.

Skin is like paper, fragile, supple and lithe.
Torn like butterflies wings, dashed by wind.
Bent and twisted it clings like water in a creek bed.

Skin is like paper, casing, folded and wrapped
Caressing us like broad arms, protective and caring.--Seems to add little
Curving and taught, tailored to the inch in cut and fit.--(not that I like taught, but do you mean taut?) should in be and? Not seeing much in the entire strophe.

Skin is like paper, browned and black, blistered and burnt.
It boils from beneath, living fire giving it life’s touch.--Feels a bit too over wrought.
Peeling like ribbon, freed of the vestige of flesh.

Skin is like paper, thin and slight, easily broken--If it breaks like fine china, I don't need to be told it's easily broken.
It breaks like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.
It is dashed like an innocent dream upon the harsh dawn.--This just feels poetic without serving your comparison.

Skin is like paper, it carries the tale of times past.
The life of its owner is written in words, pale and mute.--I think it's a mistake to just say this so directly. Trust the reader more.
A life of times on a surface, laid bare to one with eyes.

Okay so without regard to punctuation, capitalization or line breaks. We are left with this:


Skin is like paper


etched in soft grain.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of heavy damask.

Torn like butterflies wings, dashed by wind.
it clings like water in a creek bed.

It boils from beneath, living fire
Peeling like ribbon, freed of the vestige of flesh.

It breaks like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.

it carries the tale of times past.
laid bare to one with eyes.


I realize that's pretty extreme. Just trying to give you another look to consider as a possible starting point.

thank you to all who read this and leave appropriate comment

I hope the comments help.

Best,

Todd

Really great crit. All I could add is to watch your punctuation. It messes your flow and the meaning of what you are trying to convey when you get it wrong. I'm not big on the technicality of it as much as the meaning punctuation conveys. A full stop denotes and end, a comma a list, a colon a reason, and a semi-colon an afterthought. Also don't be afraid to use "and" sparingly. replacing it with a comma will make your work more believable.

What I am trying to do is slowly build the impression of violence towards the flesh or in this case "paper" without giving the game away until the last line, so it is rather vague and all metaphor. perhaps a few extra lines that explain the damage whilst remaining less and less obscured would work. Then I could explain the bits you think are extraneous. the problem I'm having is a "theory of mind " issue. I know what the poem is about so it all makes sense to me, but someone else reading it, even a few times may well not. I did put it in here as I wanted a back and forth about it.

instead of more slow edits of the poem, what would you say about being more direct with just some fragments that explain what I am trying to do? what I do want to do with the poem is raise the 'violence' until it becomes more clear that the "paper" is no longer paper but the skin it is compared to and it is being damaged and only some one who has been there will know the signs. it is a very hard balancing act on my part to not give the game away but be more direct as well. If you understand where I'm coming from.

I don't want to completely re-write it but perhaps a restructure with some inserts and deletions or shorter lines? It will be at least a week before I come back due to other commitments adding on time to perhaps do some work on it. so if you would be so kind. may be a comment on this idea of escalation, building both violence and perhaps regret, though that would complicate matters not allow for paring down.

perhaps a longer and a stripped back as much as I can bare to use a double edged blade as it were? I wonder if paper can scar? I really need to get back into the mood I was when I first wrote it, though that was not a good place to be.

Think you are very close with this edit, if you want to only bring it out in the end, then only mention skin in the end, keep the reader in the dark, let them think you are talking about a woman or something, make them suffer a bit - here is a suggested edit, I love the concept.

Skin is like paper, dry, etched with soft grain.
Delicate and somehow pleasant to the touch.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of warm damask.

SkinShe wraps us, casing, folded gently just an idea...
Caressing us like broad arms, protective and caring.
Curving and taut, tailored to the inch in fit and cut.

Skin isSo fragile, yet supple and lithe, laid over flesh
Bent and twisted it iswhen held, like water in a creek bed.
Breaking like a butterfly's wings, dashed by the wind.

Skin is browned and black,when blistered and burnt.
Layered from beneath, fire given life’s touch.
Peeling like ribbons, freed of the vestige of thews.

Skin is so thin and slight, so easily sundered and broken
It cracks suddenly like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.
It is dashed like an innocent dream upon the harsh dawn.

Skin carries a tale authored, in forlorn coloured inks of pain and regret.
The days of its owner is scored in words, pale and mute.
A life of times on a surface, laid bare for one with eyes.

(07-04-2015, 07:30 PM)TheOnlyRedSmurf Wrote:  I am posting in this sub, not because I think the poem is especially good, but because I need proper feedback on it. I have shown It to one other person, a friend I trust not to blow smoke up my ***.

I would be very interested to know what people think it is about. I would also accept comments on why it is either good or bad. I do not consider it finished but I'm not sure what would take it there.
It has been pushed and poked a little,
I get cutting it back but I'm trying to get as much detail in there as it will hold.
I'm also not quite ready to cut it so heavily as has been suggested, don't know why, might be my stubborn streak


revised

Skin is like paper, dry, etched with soft grain.
Delicate and somehow pleasant to the touch.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of warm damask.

Skin wraps us, casing, folded gently
Caressing us like broad arms, protective and caring.
Curving and taut, tailored to the inch in fit and cut.

Skin is fragile, yet supple and lithe, laid over flesh
Bent and twisted it is held, like water in a creek bed.
Breaking like a butterfly's wings, dashed by the wind.

Skin is browned and black, blistered and burnt.
Layered from beneath, fire given life’s touch. - not sure what I want to do with this line
Peeling like ribbons, freed of the vestige of thews.

Skin is so thin and slight, so easily sundered and broken
It cracks suddenly like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.
It is dashed like an innocent dream upon the harsh dawn.

Skin carries a tale authored, in forlorn coloured inks of pain and regret.
The days of its owner is scored in words, pale and mute.
A life of times on a surface, laid bare for one with eyes.



Skin is like paper - first posted

Skin is like paper, dry, etched in soft grain.
Delicate and somehow warm to the touch.
Dressing us in a fine cloth of heavy damask.

Skin is like paper, fragile, supple and lithe.
Torn like butterflies wings, dashed by wind.
Bent and twisted it clings like water in a creek bed.

Skin is like paper, casing, folded and wrapped
Caressing us like broad arms, protective and caring.
Curving and taught, tailored to the inch in cut and fit.

Skin is like paper, browned and black, blistered and burnt.
It boils from beneath, living fire giving it life’s touch.
Peeling like ribbon, freed of the vestige of flesh.

Skin is like paper, thin and slight, easily broken
It breaks like a fine china, in pale, slender splinters.
It is dashed like an innocent dream upon the harsh dawn.

Skin is like paper, it carries the tale of times past.
The life of its owner is written in words, pale and mute.
A life of times on a surface, laid bare to one with eyes.


thank you to all who read this and leave appropriate comment

Hi,
you have had some good crit and responded in explanatory fashion....I see where you are going but only after the response. Now look up "palimpsest" to see if it helps. You asked for appropriate comment and I can offer little else beyond what has already been said. Now I am going to bed.
Best,
tectak