01-07-2016, 10:13 AM
Hi,
I put some strikes through some and moved a line from the original, plus added some notes. Basically I like what I am seeing, but I feel as though it still needs more. I feel weird saying this because it is a poem, but I feel like it needs more to the plot development. It seems a little abrupt to me. The narrator is barely 17 again and then rushed out the door. It seems like more drastic things have happened other than air guitar. What type of event was this? That information could be significant to the piece. I looked up "cadge a fag." Around here someone would say bum a cig or a smoke. I knew a cig is a fag in the United Kingdom. Honestly I didn't know what cadge meant. So yes I like this, but feel it can develop more.
I put some strikes through some and moved a line from the original, plus added some notes. Basically I like what I am seeing, but I feel as though it still needs more. I feel weird saying this because it is a poem, but I feel like it needs more to the plot development. It seems a little abrupt to me. The narrator is barely 17 again and then rushed out the door. It seems like more drastic things have happened other than air guitar. What type of event was this? That information could be significant to the piece. I looked up "cadge a fag." Around here someone would say bum a cig or a smoke. I knew a cig is a fag in the United Kingdom. Honestly I didn't know what cadge meant. So yes I like this, but feel it can develop more.
(10-10-2015, 05:03 AM)Keith Wrote: Edit 1 (Thanks to all)
Behave yourself tonight,
and please don’t embarrass us,
she warned.
But five drinks in
I'm tumbling backwards I think I’m 17 again.
setting the clock for 17
again.
A non-smoker cadging cigs, (What does that mean?)
swallowing shot glasses
then another pint,
swapping party anthems
for Springsteen and Motorhead,
I air guitar my way to the
wrong side of another day.
Her gun metal frown
was one step in front
ready to take the head-shot. (I think this should be broken up into two stanzas. I assume she was frowning and the narrator went to go look in the bathroom mirror)
My reflection in the bathroom
leaned towards me
and smiled,
hollow-eyed. (I tend to think hollow-eyed is bordering on a cliche description and is that how someone really looks drunk? That sounds like the morning after)
I staggered a path down
the stairs two bumped
steps at a time.
Hello love, having a gud time?
Get in the car we're going home.
Two miles in
I'm 52 again
snoring in the passenger seat.
with a not so bright future.
Orginal
Behave yourself tonight,
and please don’t embarrass us.
she warned.
Piss off
I thought
I won’t dear
I said.
But five drinks in
I think I’m 17 again.
A non-smoker cadging fags,
swallowing shot glasses
then another pint,
swapping party anthems
for Springsteen and Motorhead,
I air guitar my way to the
wrong side of another day.
Her gun metal frown
was one step in front
ready to take the head-shot.
My reflection in the bathroom
leaned towards me
and smiled
hollow-eyed
and cheek-boned.
Get in the car we're going home.
Two miles in
I'm 52 again
snoring in the passenger seat.
"Write while the heat is in you...The writer who postpones the recording of his thoughts uses an iron which has cooled to burn a hole with." --Henry David Thoreau