What's it all about?

[grannyjill]

They didn't have cutting in my day...well, if they did I didn't know of it or anyone who did it - so, it sounds like some kind of bizarre fashion to me.

I used to not like eating, and tried to avoid it when I was a teenager - but I'd never heard of anorexia nervosa or bulimia so didn't know how to do so properly....but, that seems to be fashionable now too.

Don't know what my point is, actually - except that I'm not very sympathetic to teens who write angst-ridden poetry about their suffering, mental anquish and pain (especially when many in the world have real traumas in their lives)

[Wildcard]

My Cutter Poem:

Jesus This Sucks! by Mark Fry

two hours in a room of clothes
naked and desperate
clinging to an infinitesimal
hope
of sorts
I feel the cold
the prickling of my follicles
and it's thrill
in my cover
in my hole
dripping
on a freshly waxed floor
on my bare feet
from a hole in me

I've cried to Him
and her
but what do they know?
what do I know
for that matter?
I know my ghost is waiting-
just waiting
for my hand
to find
my wrist

[popeye]

Hi Mark, this is my fitst critique, I'd never heard of cutter poetry until recently but I reckon you've done a pretty good job here, I'm unsure whether you're bleeding from that hole or about to slash your wrist or both, but my main concern is your avatar, a man with a guitar and a smile about to slash his wrist is just a touch incongruous, Merry Christmas champ, cheers!

[Wildcard]

I hear ya buddy. I wrote that off the top of my head just to try out something new. And my avatar is really me, but don't be fooled by the big clown smile- I can be very dark from time to time.

[grannyjill]

its

Hey this looks like the genuine article....it better not be!

My only request would be for you to change the first mention of 'hole' to something else as it is a little confusing.
................................................................................................

I thought I'd go away and play too.....but went a step further
..................
on the cutting room floor

hot lines
criss-crossing blue lines
drawn with a fine Toledo blade
such a simple passive thing to do
quietly softly
drip drip drip....drip
pooling beneath my finger-tips
scarlet and garish the pattern it makes
plop plop onto mother’s cold tiled floor
splashing pretty cherry blossom petals
up the bathroom door
it’s curious
how life may seep away
quietly softly on such a fine day

[Leanne]

Love the "plop plop" granny

You've made a faux pas though... one must never offer editing advice on cutter poetry... every word comes straight from the heart and changing it just isn't being true to the poem.

[grannyjill]

I loved this response (you are very naughty).....actually, I loved writing the plop plop poem, too. I interested myself....why did I put that about 'mother' in my poem? I think I might need to book myself into a session for psychoanalysis!

I will remember your advise should I ever get to read another cutter poem.

[Wildcard]

I was trying to be awful that time, Jill. Normally I'm just awful without all that effort