the headache.

[newsclippings]

light-arrows fall into my cornea,
sear into my brain
feels the same
as when it was pushed
out of my mother’s vagina
and into a yellow room

they say it’s calming
but I find nothing sincere about shit
in mold cracks and
ammonia stained tiles

i want to light a cigarette
but Jenkins told me it’s bad
he put pictures on his tele box
pictures of black lungs and
tubed throats.

we all write when we’re weak
i write because i don’t get tired
because there’s nothing to talk about
when your head’s in the sink

---

Hi, tried to delete this from here, couldn't. If you want to seriously critique it, by all means.

---

Here we go again:

light sears through my cornea,
into my brain
feels the same
as when it was pushed
out of my mother’s vagina
and into a yellow room

they say it’s calming
but I find nothing whimsical about shit
in mold cracks and
ammonia stained tiles

i want to light a cigarette
but Jenkins told me it’s bad
he put pictures on his tele box
pictures of black lungs and
tubed throats.

we all write when we’re weak
because there’s nothing to talk about
when your head’s in the sink

[billy]

light-arrows fall into my cornea, would 'onto' or 'through' work better? light-arrows doesn't work for me and i'm sorry but i can't say why
sear into my brain
feels the same
as when it was pushed
out of my mother’s vagina
and into a yellow room these last three lines are powerful

they say it’s calming
but I find nothing sincere about shit
in mold cracks and
ammonia stained tiles i like this stanza a lot mainly the images it implies, though i'm not sure what calming has to do with sincere.

i want to light a cigarette
but Jenkins told me it’s bad
he put pictures on his tele box
pictures of black lungs and
tubed throats. again the stanza creates a wicked image. it leaves me wondering who jenkins is. it's a solid vignette

we all write when we’re weak
i write because i don’t get tired not sure this line adds anything and maybe it weakens the rest of the stanza
because there’s nothing to talk about
when your head’s in the sink

i thought it a good poem, a few nits but nothing to bad about it. a minor edit would make it shine.
thanks for the read.

[newsclippings]

sweet, I like your suggestions

---

also, jenkins is the dude who made TV ;]

[rowens]

light sears through my cornea,
into my brain
feels the same
as when it was pushed
out of my mother’s vagina
and into a yellow room

they say it’s calming
but I find nothing whimsical about shit
in mold cracks and
ammonia stained tiles

i want to light a cigarette
but Jenkins told me it’s bad
he put pictures on his tele box
pictures of black lungs and
tubed throats.

we all write when we’re weak
because there’s nothing to talk about
when your head’s in the sink

Maybe if you trimmed the first stanza a little more, cut a few words, and change "out of" to "from":


light sears my cornea,
my brain
feels the same
as when it was pushed
from my mother’s vagina
into a yellow room

....Something like that?

[BennyBoy]

I enjoyed it - some nice imagery and relatively easy to follow. Also it sounds nice when read aloud.

[Todd]

Hi newsclippings,

Let me give you some comments below:

light-arrows fall into my cornea,--I like light arrows as an idea it makes me think of an old 1950s radiation diagram with their curving colored arrows. Fall into though feels a bit wrong it seems passive for the image. It could be as simple a replacement as "pierce"
sear into my brain
feels the same--given that it's hard for me to believe the speaker remembers their own birth, maybe a minor lead in "I imagine it..."
as when it was pushed--should it be "it" or "I"
out of my mother’s vagina
and into a yellow room--very surprising simile for the pain. I wasn't expecting it. It's good

they say it’s calming
but I find nothing sincere about shit
in mold cracks and
ammonia stained tiles--no issues with any of this

i want to light a cigarette
but Jenkins told me it’s bad
he put pictures on his tele box
pictures of black lungs and--I think you could do without the repetition of pictures
tubed throats.--given that Jenkins died before the 1940s, wasn't the common wisdom that cigarettes were actually healthy or at least tasted good with no side effects. It makes me think that Jenkins should have told you one thing but over the years the pictures told you about the black lungs and the tubed throats. I like the words and ideas here just considering the source material

we all write when we’re weak--fantastic line. One of the best in the poem.
i write because i don’t get tired--again excellent use of misderection. You would think with weakness in the previous line it would be when you GET tired. Really love this entire strophe
because there’s nothing to talk about
when your head’s in the sink

---

You've got a raw, edgy voice in your work, and I enjoyed the poem. I hope the comments will be helpful to you.

Best,

Todd

[Pete Ak]

light sears through my cornea,
into my brain
feels the same
as when it was pushed
out of my mother’s vagina
and into a yellow room

If you take out all the words following "light" up to "brain" we have remaining: 'light feels the same as when it was pushed..." etc., is this meaningful? I would guess that you're aiming to say something about how how you feel but this doesn't communicate much. The word choice however is poetic.

they say it’s calming
but I find nothing whimsical about shit

I like the link you've created between whimsy and calmness - interesting!

in mold cracks and
ammonia stained tiles

i want to light a cigarette
but Jenkins told me it’s bad
he put pictures on his tele box
pictures of black lungs and
tubed throats.

Not sure you need 'picture' twice, I'd look for options.

we all write when we’re weak
because there’s nothing to talk about
when your head’s in the sink
[/quote]

An impressive poem, neatly tied up in the last stanza

[shemthepenman]

Damn, I really like this poem. I have studied it and with every reading it just gets better;
having said that, when I first read it, I did have one reservation. It was the use of the word "shit", of all things. I always cringe whenever I see casual swearing in a poem. It always feels to me like the teacher at school using teenage parlance in order to appear cool but having the opposite effect; contrived to tell you more about the author than inspiring any genuine emotion or thought. The exception to this is when swearing is used, as it is most effectively in real life, as an expression of emotion. Consider, Jim Morrison's "lament for the death of my cock" (which is pure, look at me I'm a poet, but don't forget I'm a rock star, too) in comparison with Andy Falkous "all of your friends are cunts!" (an expression of deep vitriol and anger).
I am sorry I cannot give more feedback but, I really do like it in its entirety [note: what i said about the swearing was only my initial reaction, your poem itself has made me re-evaluate my entire position].

[newsclippings]

wooftie. thanks y'all, didn't think this would be well received!