Hi goldyfish,
I appreciate your willingness to edit. Just a thought, often it's good to place revisions above the original poem so we can see the progression.
Notes on this version:
Best,
Todd
I appreciate your willingness to edit. Just a thought, often it's good to place revisions above the original poem so we can see the progression.
Notes on this version:
(02-28-2013, 09:07 PM)goldyfish Wrote: three fifthsI'm liking this.
an endless stream
of backs of black--nice
that’s all you were to us.
perpetually bending
scarred
warped with work.
“walk!" we screamed
"obey!” we threatened
"reproduce." we demanded.--not a fan of the speech might just be me. Maybe imagery to nail it home. Only an example (probably not even that good of one):
Our threats hovered like crows
over the white fields
that budded as you did.
Again just an example of what I mean.
you huddled
heads down
wrapped in colorless blankets.
you reached for hope
while hating it.--good edit
and you sang of love
from the fields of fabric--optionally you could cut the
the love of a creator
thrust upon you
adopted and adapted
for convenience-this is all good. You could cut this line optionally
for survival.
you sang not
of the hushed and silent love
you felt
at night. with the heavy breathing all around
loudly lumbering through sleep
the day was kept away
for some time longer
to refill your heart
(but just enough
and sometimes not…)
blood still screams from --maybe reverse the sequence and end this line on "the unforgiving" it would provide some nice layering on the line break
the unforgetting unforgiving ground
seeping upwards
it creeps
it weeps
for a time lost
to innocent malevolence
for a time
of red.
red earth
red skin--I like the cadence of this. Red skin might confuse this with Native Americans. Optionally you could do : red on earth (line break) red on skin(strophe break) and then exactly how you have it with the last two lines set apart. Just thoughts,that's all.
red cloth
red tears.
[a theme from my giant "nation of peace" reworked]
Best,
Todd
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
