The smell of save for later
hard boiled eggs
made me hungry
so I downed
a glass of water instead,
knowing full well
those chicken fingers
breaded in Southern Biscuit Flour
made late yesterday
awaited, chilled and firm.

Our smiles are different.
I couldn't tell if his meant
he found pleasure
when an anvil fell on my skull yesterday
or he's remembering last week,
tapping into my
let-me-please-you programming,
winning a coaxing:
my tipping up, just half
of his very cold
Founder's Dirty Bastard;

perhaps he's won
a strange contest in the motherland
where I once danced the border
as a coin-fringed gypsy,

or could it be
he's getting ready
to leave for the day,
seeing an old friend
who uses a compass-point disadvantage?

I can't kill his innocence
by telling him
one termite, over time,
can devour an entire love shack.






ORIGINAL
The smell of save for later
hard boiled eggs
throughout the house
made me hungry
so I downed
a glass of water instead,
knowing full well
those chicken fingers
breaded in Southern Biscuit Flour
made late yesterday
awaited, chilled and firm.

Our smiles are different.
I couldn't tell if his meant
he liked it when the anvil fell
on my skull yesterday
or he's remembering last week:
still able to tap into my
let-me-please-you programming
by winning a coaxing,
my tipping up just a half
of his very cold,
Founder's Dirty Bastard.

Maybe he's won some sort of contest
in that land where I once danced the border
as a coin-fringed gypsy,
but it could be
he's getting ready to leave for the day,
thinking he's made another new friend
who likes to take his money,

but I won't kill his innocence
by telling him
one termite, over time,
can devour an entire love shack.

(06-10-2017, 01:10 AM)nibbed Wrote:  The smell of save for later
hard boiled eggs
throughout the house
made me hungry                                                                                     - Damn you, it made me hungry too!
so I downed
a glass of water instead,
knowing full well
those chicken fingers
breaded in Southern Biscuit Flour                                                            - Even more, now. Great imagery!
made late yesterday
awaited chilled and firm.

Our smiles are different.
I couldn't tell if his meant
he liked it when the anvil fell                                                                  - For some reason this reminds me of a cartoon i used to see in my childhood
on my skull yesterday
or he's remembering last week:
still able to tap into my
let-me-please-you programming
by winning a coaxing,
my tipping up just a half
of his very cold,
Founder's Dirty Bastard.

Maybe he's won some sort of contest
in that land where I once danced the border                                     - Maybe add 'on' or 'across' before the border?
as a coin-fringed gypsy,
but it could be
he's getting ready to leave for the day,
thinking he's made another new friend
who likes to take his money,

but I won't kill his innocence                                                            - What if you add 'Just yet' after innocence? As if his innocence is the 'safe for later' you mention in the                                                                                                             first sentence
by telling him
one termite, over time,
can devour an entire love shack.                                                      - Very strong and alegorical ending

It feels like a pretty mellow poem and the ending wraps it up nicely! Would you mind sharing what your general meaning behind the poem is? To me it feels as if it are lovers that are growing estranged, but I do have a gut feeling that i'm wrong there 

(06-10-2017, 01:10 AM)nibbed Wrote:   
 
 
The smell of save for later
hard boiled eggs         the eggs made hungry, yet the subject has to eat something else, chicken wings, wanted yesterday, but not anymore.. guesses about metaphors, that are not quite clear to me. especially what is the quality that makes those eggs worth saving?
throughout the house
made me hungry
so I downed
a glass of water instead,
knowing full well
those chicken fingers
breaded in Southern Biscuit Flour   somehow I think of “killed” instead of “breaded” (just me)
made late yesterday
awaited chilled and firm.

Our smiles are different.
I couldn't tell if his meant                  I think the poem would be more powerful if you switched from third person to second when talking about “him”.
he liked it when the anvil fell
on my skull yesterday                
or he's remembering last week:
still able to tap into my
let-me-please-you programming
by winning a coaxing,
my tipping up just a half
of his very cold,
Founder's Dirty Bastard.     a stanza full of disappointment, I don´t quite understand. maybe cause I don´t grasp “tipping up” and the anvil on the skull enough.

Maybe he's won some sort of contest              not clear to me which “contest”
in that land where I once danced the border                  ah.. two different lands that won´t combine..
as a coin-fringed gypsy,
but it could be
he's getting ready to leave for the day,
thinking he's made another new friend
who likes to take his money,

but I won't kill his innocence         I think  “ignorance” instead of “innocence” wanted to be written there (since guy didn´t fulfil criteria of innocence before)
by telling him
one termite, over time,                        termite.. nice metaphor
can devour an entire love shack.        would erase the word "love" here, cause shack is (intentionally or not) very similar to another word that comes in mind  and it would suit the meaning (in my stupid view)

good theme, the poem leaves me with questions, but all right that´s the purpose i guess.

Hey Janine,
This poem has some nice images in it. However, some of the other images are a bit unclear. I'll go into more detail below:

(06-10-2017, 01:10 AM)nibbed Wrote:  The smell of save for later
hard boiled eggs
throughout the house
made me hungry
so I downed
a glass of water instead,-Something about the speaker denying her hunger made me depressed. Is this hinting that the speaker is suffering from an eating disorder?
knowing full well
those chicken fingers
breaded in Southern Biscuit Flour
made late yesterday
awaited chilled and firm.-The fact that this stanza is all about food made me think the speaker might be someone's mother or wife. I know that might be a bit sexist of me, so I apologize if I am incorrect. The food imagery is well done (pardon the pun).

Our smiles are different.
I couldn't tell if his meant
he liked it when the anvil fell
on my skull yesterday -You should be clearer here. I think you mean some sort of embarrassment or fight, so describe it in more vivid detail.
or he's remembering last week:
still able to tap into my
let-me-please-you programming -I like this line and the previous one. It sums up well why the relationship in the poem is in trouble.
by winning a coaxing,
my tipping up just a half
of his very cold,
Founder's Dirty Bastard.

Maybe he's won some sort of contest
in that land where I once danced the border
as a coin-fringed gypsy, -I don't quite get the first three lines in this stanza. The speaker seems to indicate that the person she is talking about is in some sort of fantasy, but I don't understand the gypsy reference. May be you should think of a way to tie this back to the food imagery.
but it could be
he's getting ready to leave for the day,
thinking he's made another new friend
who likes to take his money, -I can't help but think this is some sort of reference to prostitution. Am I right?

but I won't kill his innocence
by telling him
one termite, over time,
can devour an entire love shack.-I love this last stanza. It's a strong ending, but I agree with vagabond that you should drop the word "love" from it.

After reading this an additional time, I am starting to wonder if the speaker here is a waitress just trying to impress a customer to get a tip. Anyway, this is a nice piece, and I look forward to seeing where you take it from here.

Cheers,
Richard

(06-10-2017, 02:17 AM)The Four-Eyed Cat Wrote:  

(06-10-2017, 01:10 AM)nibbed Wrote:  The smell of save for later
hard boiled eggs
throughout the house
made me hungry                                                                                     - Damn you, it made me hungry too!
so I downed
a glass of water instead,
knowing full well
those chicken fingers
breaded in Southern Biscuit Flour                                                            - Even more, now. Great imagery!
made late yesterday
awaited chilled and firm.

Our smiles are different.
I couldn't tell if his meant
he liked it when the anvil fell                                                                  - For some reason this reminds me of a cartoon i used to see in my childhood
on my skull yesterday
or he's remembering last week:
still able to tap into my
let-me-please-you programming
by winning a coaxing,
my tipping up just a half
of his very cold,
Founder's Dirty Bastard.

Maybe he's won some sort of contest
in that land where I once danced the border                                     - Maybe add 'on' or 'across' before the border?
as a coin-fringed gypsy,
but it could be
he's getting ready to leave for the day,
thinking he's made another new friend
who likes to take his money,

but I won't kill his innocence                                                            - What if you add 'Just yet' after innocence? As if his innocence is the 'safe for later' you mention in the                                                                                                             first sentence
by telling him
one termite, over time,
can devour an entire love shack.                                                      - Very strong and alegorical ending

It feels like a pretty mellow poem and the ending wraps it up nicely! Would you mind sharing what your general meaning behind the poem is? To me it feels as if it are lovers that are growing estranged, but I do have a gut feeling that i'm wrong there 

Hi Four Eyed Cat.
Thank you for critiquing my poem.
No, not Estranged, just STRANGE and growing. hahaha.
Have a blessed day!

---

(06-10-2017, 01:03 PM)Richard Wrote:  Hey Janine,
This poem has some nice images in it. However, some of the other images are a bit unclear. I'll go into more detail below:

(06-10-2017, 01:10 AM)nibbed Wrote:  The smell of save for later
hard boiled eggs
throughout the house
made me hungry
so I downed
a glass of water instead,-Something about the speaker denying her hunger made me depressed. Is this hinting that the speaker is suffering from an eating disorder?
knowing full well
those chicken fingers
breaded in Southern Biscuit Flour
made late yesterday
awaited chilled and firm.-The fact that this stanza is all about food made me think the speaker might be someone's mother or wife. I know that might be a bit sexist of me, so I apologize if I am incorrect. The food imagery is well done (pardon the pun).

Our smiles are different.
I couldn't tell if his meant
he liked it when the anvil fell
on my skull yesterday -You should be clearer here. I think you mean some sort of embarrassment or fight, so describe it in more vivid detail.
or he's remembering last week:
still able to tap into my
let-me-please-you programming -I like this line and the previous one. It sums up well why the relationship in the poem is in trouble.
by winning a coaxing,
my tipping up just a half
of his very cold,
Founder's Dirty Bastard.

Maybe he's won some sort of contest
in that land where I once danced the border
as a coin-fringed gypsy, -I don't quite get the first three lines in this stanza. The speaker seems to indicate that the person she is talking about is in some sort of fantasy, but I don't understand the gypsy reference. May be you should think of a way to tie this back to the food imagery.
but it could be
he's getting ready to leave for the day,
thinking he's made another new friend
who likes to take his money, -I can't help but think this is some sort of reference to prostitution. Am I right?

but I won't kill his innocence
by telling him
one termite, over time,
can devour an entire love shack.-I love this last stanza. It's a strong ending, but I agree with vagabond that you should drop the word "love" from it.

After reading this an additional time, I am starting to wonder if the speaker here is a waitress just trying to impress a customer to get a tip. Anyway, this is a nice piece, and I look forward to seeing where you take it from here.

Cheers,
Richard

Hi Richard, Thank you for considering my poem and critiquing. I need to do something about the skull line...No, not prostitution...it was a way to express a feeling someone was taking advantage of someone else, through strange social politics...but I suppose it can stay. Thank you so much, I felt the skull should be changed to noodles, or the entire line fixed, but I will have to work on that.

have a great day!
janine

(06-10-2017, 03:32 AM)vagabond Wrote:  

(06-10-2017, 01:10 AM)nibbed Wrote:   
 
 
The smell of save for later
hard boiled eggs         the eggs made hungry, yet the subject has to eat something else, chicken wings, wanted yesterday, but not anymore.. guesses about metaphors, that are not quite clear to me. especially what is the quality that makes those eggs worth saving?
throughout the house
made me hungry
so I downed
a glass of water instead,
knowing full well
those chicken fingers
breaded in Southern Biscuit Flour   somehow I think of “killed” instead of “breaded” (just me)
made late yesterday
awaited chilled and firm.

Our smiles are different.
I couldn't tell if his meant                  I think the poem would be more powerful if you switched from third person to second when talking about “him”.
he liked it when the anvil fell
on my skull yesterday                
or he's remembering last week:
still able to tap into my
let-me-please-you programming
by winning a coaxing,
my tipping up just a half
of his very cold,
Founder's Dirty Bastard.     a stanza full of disappointment, I don´t quite understand. maybe cause I don´t grasp “tipping up” and the anvil on the skull enough.

Maybe he's won some sort of contest              not clear to me which “contest”
in that land where I once danced the border                  ah.. two different lands that won´t combine..
as a coin-fringed gypsy,
but it could be
he's getting ready to leave for the day,
thinking he's made another new friend
who likes to take his money,

but I won't kill his innocence         I think  “ignorance” instead of “innocence” wanted to be written there (since guy didn´t fulfil criteria of innocence before)
by telling him
one termite, over time,                        termite.. nice metaphor
can devour an entire love shack.        would erase the word "love" here, cause shack is (intentionally or not) very similar to another word that comes in mind  and it would suit the meaning (in my stupid view)

good theme, the poem leaves me with questions, but all right that´s the purpose i guess.

Hi vagabond,

I apologize for my delay in thanking you for critiquing my poem.
Your wanting to change innocence for ignorance made me smile,
but no, it won't work...ignorance is too crass for the situation.
The poem's metaphor was limited, overall. Except for maybe,
Termite: an eating away at something.
Anvil:a dangerous, heavy weight, but also a tool used to form.
Love Shack: a place of passion.
I do like how certain poems tend to produce unintended metaphor, though.
That is one of the coolest things about poetry, when poems do that!

I hope your day goes nicely today and people are kind to you.
All the Best,
Janine

(06-10-2017, 01:10 AM)nibbed Wrote:  Some cleaning, perhaps. Suggestions below:
The smell of save for later
hard boiled eggs
throughout the house
made me hungry maybe a stronger word.
so I downed
a glass of water instead,
knowing full well
those chicken fingers
breaded in Southern Biscuit Flour reads a little too long, though this could be rooted in a generic trademark that isn't well-known over here (or something)
made late yesterday
awaited chilled and firm.

Our smiles are different.
I couldn't tell if his meant tense change. also, opposed to the earlier stanza, change of time or place? unclear, and with the focus on imagery i don't think it says something particularly important, this lack of clarity.
he liked it when the anvil fell
on my skull yesterday
or he's remembering last week: i couldn't tell either. as in, there's a whole host of reasons "he" could be smiling (for example, aforementioned eggs), and the relationship between the speaker and "him" is not clear enough for me to understand that one of the few things that would make "him" smile is the speaker's pain. perhaps further develop "his" character first?
still able to tap into my
let-me-please-you programming
by winning a coaxing,
my tipping up just a half the "-ing"s grate. and, although this is somewhat pedantic, the clause is never really completed -- it should be "still able to tap into my let-me-please-you programming, subject verbed", with the subject, I'm assuming, being the speaker, and the verb being to tip.
of his very cold, comma unnecessary.
Founder's Dirty Bastard.

Maybe he's won some sort of contest with this, i'm left to assume "I couldn't tell if his meant" is meant to say "I couldn't tell if his means", which, although to my ears a bit more grating, is at least clearer.
in that land where I once danced the border
as a coin-fringed gypsy,
but it could be
he's getting ready to leave for the day,
thinking he's made another new friend again, the character of "him" is unclear -- this line could point to the poem describing some sort of hookup, or this could point to an entirely new character whose role is completely unexplained. 
who likes to take his money,

but I won't kill his innocence
by telling him
one termite, over time,
can devour an entire love shack. don't remove "love" from "love shack", ba-aby: that's where it's at. although considering the original love shack actually burned down[1], maybe the last stanza needs a bit of tweaking....but not really. 

I don't see the point of the title. Maybe it's my lack of familiarity with the whole affair, but the title reads a little standoffish, and I don't really see many cliches here, either in the language or in the southernness. Then again I am more familiar with southern us culture via audiovisual media rather than literature, so I don't really know.

[1] - http://www.today.com/popculture/b-52-s-l...fT8zo0vVuY

I found the imagery quite nice, particularly the last stanza, coin-fringed gypsy, and the specificity of the breading and the beer. Not yet sure about the piece as a whole, though right now I'm quite cool with it, just needs a bit of scrubbing. Thanks for the read.

thanks rivernotch

i like your removal of the third line,
in fact, all your tips were great.
I will need to clean up the poem a bit...
I guess what I was trying to paint
was pressure felt when someone
close in a relationship
wants to change a person
back into someone
they once were
(a resurrection, I guess)
or a life they turned away from
for their own good,
and all the frustration
involved in that scene.

I am honored you considered my poem,
thank you so much!

janine