Murder

[ChristopherSea]

[quote='ChristopherSea' pid='163431' dateline='1402493734']
[b]Murder

The suspect
had been spotted
around the neighborhood in the past do[/b]had been and in the past say the same thing.
coming for others,
but it was our season now.
Nights were busy
dilating, growing iciclesnot sure why dilating?
as perfect murder weapons.

Death came to our home
on stilts, peered through
our frosted bedroom
window and saw: that kisses
leave tiny bruises which amass
until the kissing stops;
that we went to bed
in mute silence, slept dreamless;
that we were not conscious
of how to love without killing
ourselves in the process. Death offered
autonomy, a nascent leaf,
an algal bloom of possibilities.

Foul play
was eventually uncoveredame question about using eventually and late mornng.
in late morning when authorities
dragged the pond
behind the house and discovered
the missing bodies

of our hollow wedding vows.

I find the twist between real death and the metaphor very close. I think this is interesting; gave me a feeling of dread. Loretta
[/quote]

Thanks Lorreta for you time and critique. I will check that had been/past redundancy. Nights becoming longer and colder, with them consuming the greater portion of their lives was the intent. Yes, eventually/late morning may not be necessary. I am glad that you found the poem intriguing. Cheers/Chris

---

Murder

The suspect
had been spotted
around the neighborhood in the past
coming for others,
but it was our season now.
Nights were busy
dilating, growing icicles
as perfect murder weapons.

Death came to our home
on stilts, peered through
our frosted bedroom
window and saw: that kisses
leave tiny bruises which amass
until the kissing stops;
that we went to bed
in mute silence, slept dreamless;
that we were not conscious
of how to love without killing
ourselves in the process. Death offered
autonomy, a nascent leaf,
an algal bloom of possibilities. < I don't think this metaphor adds anything to the poem>

Foul play
was eventually uncovered
in late morning when authorities
dragged the pond
behind the house and discovered
the missing bodies

of our hollow wedding vows.

Chris,

Seems like a sort of long way to go for a punch line, although it is a good one. A lot of this poem does not seem to contribute to the narrative, it could probably be trimmed a fair amount.
The extended metaphor is more or less solid, but it wouldn't hurt to make it more overt. Overall it is a good idea, but falls down a bit on the execution.

Dale

Dale, Thanks for taking a look. I will review the execution as you recommend. I don't see expanding any more interesting than dilating. I see more depth and double entendre in it with pupils opening wider in the dark and the night consuming them. Additionally, day length shortens and darkness increases in winner.

Why not stilts? I didn't feel like getting out the extension ladder to reach the master bedroom and that would be much more boring. I also like the idea of a stilted love affair (ie, awkward and uneasy). There's a creepier sense on stilts as well, a circus aspect.

That metaphor that you missed as being significant is pivotal, as death of the marriage is the only way to salvage something in their lives (give them autonomy, a second chance at life, new opportunities). If you think this is long way to the end of a marriage, you have little patience for the institution of marriage or a short attention span for this particular poem. Nonetheless, I shall see if I can trim it a bit. Much obliged, as always./Chris

---

Murder

The suspect
had been spotted
around the neighborhood in the past
coming for others, bad segue
but it was our season now. this line is required to understand the line previous; awkward.
Nights were busy
dilating, growing icicles with this sudden imagery it is now winter outside in near where icicles might form
as perfect murder weapons. but it turns out they were murder weapons instead. Imagery becomes similie

If I didnt know it these are two stanzas completely seperate poems. Other than the vague theme of death in winter there is sparse connecting the two. The pace shifts dramatically. The first is like Tim Burton movie intro panning across a sleepy neighbourhood. The second is Dr. Seuss adventure with death popping into little kids windows.

Death came to our home
on stilts, peered through
our frosted bedroom
window and saw: that kisses
leave tiny bruises which amass
until the kissing stops;
that we went to bed
in mute silence, slept dreamless;
that we were not conscious
of how to love without killing How to love without killing ourselves? This little spiritual journey seems grossly out of place
ourselves in the process. Death offered
autonomy, a nascent leaf,
an algal bloom of possibilities.

A lot of fluff and little meaning. Cant tell which verbs are metaphorical and which are real.

Foul play
was eventually uncovered
in late morning when authorities
dragged the pond
behind the house and discovered
the missing bodies

of our hollow wedding vows.

Huh. Was it actual or metaphorical murders..? I'm confused. Confusion is bad, it stops me from enjoying the better parts.

Cyf, Welcome to the site and thanks for the critique. I am not certain why you are confused, it's a simple extended metaphor for the death of a marriage. For a change of seasons, I see no problem with a change in the weather. Don't icicles come with winter and it's accompanying cold?

I don't see why you fail to connect suspect and murder from the first stanza to death in the second.

It's hardly fluff in the reveal of what is about to die in that stanza. I love Dr. Suess, but I don't see any fixed meter, rhymes or inversions herein nor any children for that matter, although expanding one's imagination to one as open as a child's could help in appreciating the poem. I will examine the piece for clarity nonetheless. Much obliged for the read./Chris

---

Murder

The suspect
had been spotted
around the neighborhood in the past
coming for others, i like the opening, but
but it was our season now. you lost me, why season? Surely you mean turn?
Nights were busy
dilating, growing icicles the nights were growing longer, and longer nights make good murder weapons?
as perfect murder weapons.

Death came to our home
on stilts, peered through
our frosted bedroom
window and saw: that kisses
leave tiny bruises which amass
until the kissing stops;
that we went to bed
in mute silence, slept dreamless;
that we were not conscious
of how to love without killing
ourselves in the process. Death offered I dont think you made the transition from death being a pervert staring at you outside your window creepily, to death being able to offer something to you. Perhaps something less cliche than " knocking at your window".... But the transition is missing.
autonomy, a nascent leaf,
an algal bloom of possibilities.

Foul play
was eventually uncovered
in late morning when authorities
dragged the pond
behind the house and discovered
the missing bodies

of our hollow wedding vows.

I like the idea, but the execution got lost in the middle of the poem.

Thank you QDS for sharing your critique. Season implies a change, it's not that complicated a metaphor. I can separate the lengthening from the growing colder if need be. However, I see a growing icicle relating to a growing evening that is turning cold with no problem. The murder weapon is foreshadowing death. Hitchcock used an icicle in one of his short thrillers.

I am not sure of what pervert you are referring too, but a dying marriage can be observed. That cliche you mention is not even in the poem.

The transition you seek is right there before you in what was observed in the bedroom. However, I will review all of your concerns. Thanks/Chris