Price of Fame

[windsor89]

Go ahead
Torch my skin with your words,
sparks racing to set my soul on flames
Excavate my past, scurry lustily for words spoken or silenced
Shred them, scatter into lines feebly ringed with a truth
your eyes wish to see.
Watch me fall, eyes swollen with tears, face ashen
Celebrate your satisfaction
Fleeting but fiendish
While I tape together words reeking of apologies,
wearily step down the rungs of a precarious ladder, or
plummet down chasms never-ending.
 
Scour the web for flashes of me in undress
Woefully blind and vulnerable
for which lessons lie await in imminence.
 
Go ahead
Follow me, tasked voyeurs with your glass lenses
fill your coffers and vapid booklets
with intimate slivers of my life
and flesh.
Sing paeans to my threads
to gloss over your wily sniggers
over my blemishes myriad shades less dark
than your schemes.

[rowens]

I've been working on a poem that mentions fame, basically saying that the only reason I'd want it is so one person I know might see me differently. But that's neither here nor there. . . . And I'm going to have to read the poem and give it more thought. Because this poem might not be about you. It might be about fame in general. Which it seems to be. I'm just writing this real quick to show that I'm getting into it, before I fully tackle it. So you know that you didn't post in vain.

---

Well, it makes sense. I get the sentiment. It's Basic Critique. But I think you want a more in depth critique. Which I'll give. If you want. But it takes longer, once again, to break everything down technically. . . . But you might not want that. So again I'll say that it's perfectly sensible, and understood.

[windsor89]

I've been working on a poem that mentions fame, basically saying that the only reason I'd want it is so one person I know might see me differently. But that's neither here nor there. . . . And I'm going to have to read the poem and give it more thought. Because this poem might not be about you. It might be about fame in general. Which it seems to be. I'm just writing this real quick to show that I'm getting into it, before I fully tackle it. So you know that you didn't post in vain.

---

Well, it makes sense. I get the sentiment. It's Basic Critique. But I think you want a more in depth critique. Which I'll give. If you want. But it takes longer, once again, to break everything down technically. . . . But you might not want that. So again I'll say that it's perfectly sensible, and understood.

I would definitely appreciate the extended critique, if you could.

[rowens]

The technical things, I'd rather not say. I'd rather you say something about them. The sense, the powerful statement, you've accomplished. The foggy side of poetry that makes what you write stand out as something individual or original to you, saying it in a way only you could say it, that's the toughest part. For the writer and the critic.

[windsor89]

The technical things, I'd rather not say. I'd rather you say something about them. The sense, the powerful statement, you've accomplished. The foggy side of poetry that makes what you write stand out as something individual or original to you, saying it in a way only you could say it, that's the toughest part. For the writer and the critic.

Thank you. Are there words that need to be trimmed? My biggest fear with this piece is how verbose it has gotten.

[rowens]

And if I keep talking, they're going to have to put it in the mild or intensive sections. But you have to tell them to. I don't have that power.

---

I don't think it's verbose.

[windsor89]

And if I keep talking, they're going to have to put it in the mild or intensive sections. But you have to tell them to. I don't have that power.

Apologies. Did not mean to push you, but I appreciate you taking the time.

[rowens]

Did you see the part where I said I don't think it's verbose?

[windsor89]

Did you see the part where I said I don't think it's verbose?

I just did. Thank you for that, really.

[rowens]

I don't like to tell people too much what to do in their own writing. Because I don't like people to tell me what to do. But they have every right to.

[windsor89]

I don't like to tell people too much what to do in their own writing. Because I don't like people to tell me what to do. But they have every right to.

Understandable. 
I have no technical aptitude in poetry, so I definitely make a lot of mistakes that would make the more literate members here cringe. But I appreciate you giving me a nice overview of what you saw.

[billy]

hi windsor, i see you want extended feedback, you'll probably get what you give regarding feedback so try and give full feedback elsewhere

the poem as potential.

you have a few cliches in the poem, i'm not sure the [go ahead] add anything to the poem and in my view they weaken the anger of the piece. as it's in basic i didn't continue, but you can continue through the poem looking for similar instances. there are lines and words you can remove and in doing improve the poem, lines like this; for which lessons lie await in imminence. verbiage weakens anger. often good poetry is about good word choice. thanks for the read.

Go ahead
Torch my skin with your words,
sparks racing to set my soul on flames soul is a well overused word
Excavate my past, scurry lustily for words spoken or silenced the line starts strong and ends weak, use a simile or metaphor [lustily like...]
Shred them, scatter into lines feebly ringed with a truth again, it's a perfect line for some imagery [scatter like...an example; scatter like seeds into falsehoods
your eyes wish to see. this line feels like filler it's a given and therefore not needed.
Watch me fall, eyes swollen with tears, face ashen
Celebrate your satisfaction
Fleeting but fiendish
While I tape together words reeking of apologies,
wearily step down the rungs of a precarious ladder, or
plummet down chasms never-ending.
 
Scour the web for flashes of me in undress
Woefully blind and vulnerable
for which lessons lie await in imminence.
 
Go ahead
Follow me, tasked voyeurs with your glass lenses
fill your coffers and vapid booklets
with intimate slivers of my life
and flesh.
Sing paeans to my threads
to gloss over your wily sniggers
over my blemishes myriad shades less dark
than your schemes.

[Quixilated]

Hello, windsor, and welcome to the pigpen.

I made a few comments.  You mentioned that you might want to trim it down so I crossed out anything that I could do without and still understand the poem.  That doesn't mean that I think you have to delete everything that is crossed out, it simply means that I felt those words were superfluous, and you could take them out without harming the meaning of the poem.  

When dealing with emotions, sometimes less is more.  If you overdo the vehemence, then it can actually lessen the effect you are trying to make.  It's like jewelry; some is good, but too much detracts.  You do want passion in order to convey the indignation of the narrator, but you don't want the poem to become gaudy or overburdened with it.  

I hope this helps.  It's all just opinions and impressions, so take what helps and leave the rest.  

-- Quix

Go ahead
Torch my skin with your words,  This makes me think of both "roasting" a person's character, and also the heated skin caused by embarrassment.  
sparks racing to set my soul on flames
Excavate my past, scurry lustily for words spoken or silenced  I like "excavate"
Shred them, scatter into lines feebly ringed with a truth 
your eyes wish to see.
Watch me fall, eyes swollen with tears, face ashen
Celebrate your satisfaction
Fleeting but fiendish  This could simply merge with the line before into "fiendish satisfaction"
While I tape together words reeking of apologies,  I like this image, the choice of a flimsy adhesive and the "reeking"   
wearily step down the rungs of a precarious ladder, or
plummet down chasms never-ending.
 
Go ahead   --with the repeat of this phrase in the first and second stanza, it would add continuity to add it to this one as well
Scour the web for flashes of me in undress  this is the tamest possible way to phrase this, which sounds out of place against the the harsh emotional background of the rest of the poem.  Perhaps something more along the lines of "my naked skin" or "my exposed body"? 
Woefully blind and vulnerable
for which lessons lie await in imminence.
 
Go ahead
Follow me, tasked voyeurs with your glass lenses  I liked this line.  The web is a rather voyeuristic place.  
fill your coffers and vapid booklets  I don't understand this line, but that doesn't mean it's wrong or bad, that's probably on me
with intimate slivers of my life  I like this line  
and flesh.
Sing paeans to my threads  I feel like there might be a better word than "threads," but I like the image of triumphant singing, like the sing-song taunting of bullies.
to gloss over your wily sniggers
over my blemishes myriad shades less dark
than your schemes.    I understand what the last line is saying, but there is a sort of awkwardness to it.  I had to read it over a few times.  However, I don't entirely dislike it.  It's more that I had to adjust to it.  

[Xlateralus]

Go ahead
Torch my skin with your words,
sparks racing to set my soul on flames
Excavate my past, scurry lustily for words spoken or silenced
Shred them, scatter into lines feebly ringed with a truth
your eyes wish to see.
Watch me fall, eyes swollen with tears, face ashen
Celebrate your satisfaction
Fleeting but fiendish
While I tape together words reeking of apologies,
wearily step down the rungs of a precarious ladder, or
plummet down chasms never-ending.
 
Scour the web for flashes of me in undress
Woefully blind and vulnerable
for which lessons lie await in imminence.
 
Go ahead
Follow me, tasked voyeurs with your glass lenses
fill your coffers and vapid booklets
with intimate slivers of my life
and flesh.
Sing paeans to my threads
to gloss over your wily sniggers
over my blemishes myriad shades less dark
than your schemes.

I don’t like the “go ahead” refrain, it seems too angsty... or arrogant, or something like that to me. Torch my skin/set my soul on fire is almost a non-sequitor. I like the first line, but not the second. I like the imagery of excavating the past. The end of the stanza seems to ramble on a little more that it should, but it’s hard to say exactly where to cut, maybe it’s the line breaks that make it feel long. For instance, you say “shred them, scatter into lines” it’s a little redundant so it takes away from the part i really like which is “lines feebly ringed into truth you want to see”