Daliesque

[REW]

I thank you very much for your feedback Heslopian.  I got caught up in some other stuff, but plan on working on a revision for this shortly.  I appreciate the comments.  Thanks.  

I really enjoyed this poem. The first half contrasts with the second very well; the first full of violence and horror, the second with a slight undertone of menace, but on the whole bathed in light and normality, the reintegration after the warped reality of what came before. The first half is my favourite just because of how well it disturbs our sense of reality in such a clean, crisp, imagistic way, never once tripping itself up grammatically or really hitting a wrong note. My one qualm with that first half would be the last line of the second stanza, which feels a bit overkill and tell-not-show, but it's not a major thing.

If I was to crawl out on a limb and hazard a guess at a meaning here, it would be that the poem is a metaphor for (or diatribe against, perhaps) the life of the domestic goddess, the housewife, or whatever you'd call it. She drives herself insane to achieve perfection while receiving little gratitude in return from those she serves.

Whatever the meaning, this was a neat poem, and the title surmises its surrealistic approach nicely. Thank you for the read

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

---

I thouroughly enjoyed the imagery in this poem and it was very gripping. The only critique I have which I feel has already been addressed is the line breaks. I don't think the choppinness at the beginning is necessarily a problem, but it becomes when when you start having longer lines later on. I think this creates an unintentional change in the way the poem is read. However if you meant for that to happen, then please disregard.

Thank you for taking the time to comment Aidoneus.  Yes there have been some remarks about the line breaks.  I hope to work on a revision tonight and tomorrow that will hopefully result in an improved piece.

Thanks  

---

Ah Aschueler,

I am scrolling around in here looking at this thread and it appears that I didn't respond to your comments?  Gosh I am really sorry...not sure what happened.  Thank you for your criticisms in pointing out some issues.  I will be attempting to address them.  And my apologies for the seriously late acknowledgement.  My rudeness was unintentional.

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.  I like the opening images, esp ginger root...but they are all diff sizes.  But some do have appearances like figures.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand meh
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t indeed 
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove. I know it's Daliesque but this isn't needed
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.  Tired sounding
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said soi do like this transition
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned 
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;  I guess this is back to Dali, but doesn't seem to belong at all
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.moderate end could be stronger

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

---

Billy,

I read your remarks a while ago...was revisiting...and I do not see a response from me to you.  I do not know what happened.  I am sorry.  Thank you for your comments.  I didn't mean to be rude...

Daliesque

I.
The knife is longer an unusual opener but apt to the title, i like it
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.

My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t is the 2nd [I] needed?
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove. great image and metaphor, again well suited to his artwork
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you. of or at?

Then I know what to do.

II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool is [as] needed?
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the is [and] needed? would the [the] work better on the next line if you replace the [and] in that line with a commar?
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free can this be expressed better visually?
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.


how to use the size function: no need to size every line.

the poem. after reading the other feedback i do agree it needs to suit his paintings but only as far as style goes, it isn't called "dali's art" his style here for me is being used as a carrier. my problem is this, is the turmoil aimed at the "you on the cutting board {maybe a joint of meat}" or the turmoil of doing the meal for others. i think in places you could remove a tiny bit of excess. the images do capture the artists style and so works well if that was your aim. all my comments are small potatoes on an enjoyable time in your crazy kitchen.

Code:

[size=medium]Daliesque

I.
The knife is longer [b]an unusual opener but apt to the title, i like it[/b]
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.

My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t[b] is the 2nd [I] needed?[/b]
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove. [b]great image and metaphor, again well suited to his artwork[/b]
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.[b] of or at?[/b]

Then I know what to do.

II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool [b]is [as] needed?[/b]
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the [b]is [and] needed? would the [the] work better on the next line if you replace the [and] in that line with a commar?[/b]
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free [b]can this be expressed better visually?[/b]
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.[/size]

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.