Smolder

[ajcohen613]

Smoldering Logs


She shoved him down into a foldable chair
and began to kiss him impatiently.

The taste of Big Red mixed with Virginia Slim
reminded him of the first time
he wanted his love to mirror a petering bonfire;
momentary, illuminating and slight.

Closed eyes, the midst of midnight affection,
her tongue ring thriving like a silver totem,
grounding him in his boots, erasing the urge to walk away;
an extinguishing slip into the present.

Brittle black logs smolder through the night.
In the morning, there is nothing

but a pile of ash and orange filters.

[Willahelm]

Smolder

With a shove, she sits him down in a foldable chair
and proceeds to kiss him furiously.

This section feels somewhat bland, running more like prose than poetry in my opinion. Perhaps use a poetic periphrasis. I wonder what others think.

The taste of natural mouth and Virginia Slims
reminds him of the first time
he wanted his brand of love to parallel a petering bonfire –
momentary, illuminating and slight.

To me, the penultimate line seems a little long. Perhaps it is better to balance out the stanza unless you're going for a particular poetic technique (like a meter)

The midst of a midnight squeeze,
her tongue ring thriving like a totem,
grounding him in his boots, ensuring a non-dream;
an extinguishing slip into the present.

Brittle black logs smolder through the night.
In the morning, there is nothing,

there is nothing.

A good metaphor that really reveals nicely itself at the end and in my opinion doesn't entirely like complete cliche. Yet a lot of poets will naturally compare love to heat and fire. The job of a poet now is to now write a poem with something that sets it apart from the others. The rhythm flows with the alliteration I think adding to it. Better yet, none of the lines feel forced to me.

[ajcohen613]

Thank you.

[Tiger the Lion]

Hey AJ. For the most part, I like the connection you are trying to make. I think you could tighten up some lines. I will try to make some notes below.

Smolder

With a shove, she sits him down in a foldable chair "shove" and "sits him down" almost feel like opposites. Could she not just shove him into the chair?
and proceeds to kiss him furiously.not a fan of "proceeds" here.

The taste of natural mouth and Virginia SlimsI think I know what you mean here but it feels more awkward than natural.
reminds him of the first time
he wanted his brand of love to parallel a petering bonfire –
momentary, illuminating and slight.I like these last 3 lines other than "his brand of love" - I know you can say it better

The midst of a midnight squeeze,don't like "midnight squeeze" -feels like I'm watching "Grease"

her tongue ring thriving like a totem,
grounding him in his boots, ensuring a non-dream;
an extinguishing slip into the present.

Brittle black logs smolder through the night.
In the morning, there is nothing,

there is nothing.

I like that the ending ties it together, but again I think it could be done more simply. If it were my poem (and it ain't) I would probably end with...

In the morning, there is little left.
... or something simple like that.

I quite liked this so I hope my notes don't seem negative. Often when I read a poem, I find myself wanting to steal the bones and make soup.
Thanks for sharing. - Paul

[ajcohen613]

More edits have been made!

[Pink_Bunny]

In the morning, there is nothing,

there is nothing.

A re-emphasis on the nothing that remained. It was spellbinding to read a tale of enchantment involving a boy and a girl on a camping trip of sorts. They got it on and it just seemed like perhaps it wasn't such a hot idea considering what precious found in the sleeping bags. It was...

Kisses!

[RSaba]

Smoldering Logs


She shoved him down into a foldable chair
and began to kiss him impatiently.

The taste of Big Red mixed with Virginia Slim
reminded him of the first time
he wanted his love to mirror a petering bonfire; seems like a very specific image. I'm thinking maybe just "fire"? A petering bonfire would still be a large fire, not slight or momentary.
momentary, illuminating and slight.

The midst of midnight affection, nice little alliteration
her tongue ring thriving like a silver totem,
grounding him in his boots, ensuring a non-dream; this phrase goes over my head- what is meany by a "non-dream?"
an extinguishing slip into the present. I really like that phrase, it's unique

Brittle black logs smolder through the night.
In the morning, there is nothing,

there is nothing.

The last three lines don't fit with the poem for me, because they feel forlorn and the rest of the poem doesn't. It sounds nostalgic but overall not melancholy... I like it though, I just think that the mood of the poem is at the moment unclear. Hope this helps.

[ajcohen613]

Smoldering Logs


She shoved him down into a foldable chair
and began to kiss him impatiently.

The taste of Big Red mixed with Virginia Slim
reminded him of the first time
he wanted his love to mirror a petering bonfire; seems like a very specific image. I'm thinking maybe just "fire"? A petering bonfire would still be a large fire, not slight or momentary.
momentary, illuminating and slight.

The midst of midnight affection, nice little alliteration
her tongue ring thriving like a silver totem,
grounding him in his boots, ensuring a non-dream; this phrase goes over my head- what is meany by a "non-dream?"
an extinguishing slip into the present. I really like that phrase, it's unique

Brittle black logs smolder through the night.
In the morning, there is nothing,

there is nothing.

The last three lines don't fit with the poem for me, because they feel forlorn and the rest of the poem doesn't. It sounds nostalgic but overall not melancholy... I like it though, I just think that the mood of the poem is at the moment unclear. Hope this helps.

"Petering" is supposed to tie to the ending. I included it because it implies a dwindling kind of love - one that does not survive the mentioned night. The last three lines are my personal favorite. There is no single mood I was going for; just trying to illustrate young reckless love-making and the affect of such an encounter. At first everything is steamy and surreal and then it takes a dive into reality. "Non-dream" is simply meant to convey that in the midst of affection, we often need a pinch, we lose ourselves - not to get all deep and explainy on you. Hope this helps?

[ajcohen613]

I revised it a bit thanks to the honest feedback I have received in this thread. Glad you liked it! To be honest, I only found it decent. Nice to know someone else enjoyed it.

[billy]

leave the original up and mark each new edit as a newer edit, this way people can see how the edit has progressed :J:

some good original lines. (the big red line and the tongue ring one as well)
i struggled a bit in the latter part of the poem but it would'nt take much to make it more readable. it's also good to see you and others doing edits.

thanks for the read.

Smoldering Logs


She shoved him down into a foldable chair
and began to kiss him impatiently. [began] isn't needed, and it could be [kissed].

The taste of Big Red mixed with Virginia Slim
reminded him of the first time
he wanted his love to mirror a petering bonfire; bonfire feels too big for me but i do like what you're aiming for with the metaphor
momentary, illuminating and slight.

The midst of midnight affection, good alliteration a suggestion would be to start with [in]
her tongue ring thriving like a silver totem,
grounding him in his boots, ensuring a non-dream; the first part works well enough the 2nd part feels too out there
an extinguishing slip into the present.

Brittle black logs smolder through the night.
In the morning, there is nothing, i like the couplet, it's like an image of calm after the fire/sex

there is nothing. not sure this works well enough to keep

[ajcohen613]

Further edits have been made...kind of thought I had abandoned this one but, don't we abandon every poem we write at some point?