Enough

[allykat727]

The nausea and ache, a search for a cure,

a chance with space to rid the impure.
The horror of cancer was scratching the throat,
the call and the answer destroys the alone.
A temple, its people, a lesson that sweeps,
but smoke on the balcony smiles and sleeps.
A day and its night, a spark and its fire
with burning and warmth, and dormant desire.
The flash of the moon, no longer immune,
the creature, it threatens, is getting well soon.
A counterfeit smile, a plane for a while,
the sleep and the dreams and the nightmares are vile,
the moments, the minutes, the hours on trial,
unpacking and cleaning and packing, unpacking
and back at the room, the walls in the room,
the white and the wood and the mud and the food,
the ringing in ears, an emptiness waiting,
the restlessness, pacing, a vomitous aching,

an urgency racing, the impulse, the buy,
the water, more water, I tremble, alive.
A fidget, a shake, a twitch and a quake,
the voices of shock and the monster awake.
A hundred, two hundred, a thousand--disgust
at night every night getting hit by a bus.
A beat, asleep, the grinding of teeth,
the wake up, roll over, the night isn’t over,
the burning of paper to ashes--enough,
the shower, the water, the soap and the brush.

[cidermaid]

Hi allykat,
as a stark reminder of the horrors of cancers that stalks everyone as a unspoken fear, this works and makes me glad to have the health that I do have. As a poem I think there are a few things that could be done to help the read. I'll leave a couple of thoughts.

I like the title and feel that the poem matched this with the long list of inner observations about the tedium of the daily actions.
The first thing was this was a big block of writing with not many (big breath) pauses (periods) to allow the reader to take in and reflect on what has just been read.
What I have done below in no way reflects an attempt at an edit, but I have added a line break where I felt there might be a natural puase as I read your words. (You might well have different thoughts about where these fall ...this is your poem so edit accordingly) I do not think the poem needs this many stanzas and will stand longer blocks of text...just needs a few more periods, which perhaps could be placed where I show a breathing desire

The nausea and ache, a search for a cure,

a chance with space to rid the impure.
The horror of cancer was scratching the throat,
the call and the answer destroys the alone.

A temple, its people, a lesson that sweeps,
but smoke on the balcony smiles and sleeps.
A day and its night, a spark and its fire
with burning and warmth, and dormant desire.

The flash of the moon, no longer immune,
the creature, it threatens, is getting well soon.
A counterfeit smile, a plane for a while, I wasn't sure if you actually meant plane here or if this was a typo for plan.
the sleep and the dreams and the nightmares are vile,
the moments, the minutes, the hours on trial,

unpacking and cleaning and packing, unpacking
and back at the room, the walls in the room,
the white and the wood and the mud and the food, Sorry I get what is being said here, (the tedium of it all the time) but it reads a bit boring.

the ringing in ears, an emptiness waiting,
the restlessness, pacing, a vomitous aching, I like the use of vomitous aching - very relatable

an urgency racing, the impulse, the buy,
the water, more water, I tremble, alive.

A fidget, a shake, a twitch and a quake,
the voices of shock and the monster awake.
A hundred, two hundred, a thousand--disgust
at night every night getting hit by a bus. This line is a bit odd. disgust at? night. and then the repeat of night make it very akward to read. Also hit by a bus is a bit of a cliche (but it is a very relatable image)

A beat, asleep, the grinding of teeth,
the wake up, roll over, the night isn’t over,
the burning of paper to ashes--enough,
the shower, the water, the soap and the brush.

Overall I liked the concept of telling the horrors and the trials of cancer - a worthy subject. In places it feels like a bit of a list and I would have liked some more images.
All the best I hope some of these comments are of help. AJ.

[allykat727]

Hi allykat,
as a stark reminder of the horrors of cancers that stalks everyone as a unspoken fear, this works and makes me glad to have the health that I do have. As a poem I think there are a few things that could be done to help the read. I'll leave a couple of thoughts.
Overall I liked the concept of telling the horrors and the trials of cancer - a worthy subject. In places it feels like a bit of a list and I would have liked some more images.
All the best I hope some of these comments are of help. AJ.

Hi Aj, thanks a lot for your comments and observations. I must say, your point about it being a big block of text makes complete sense. I think the reader does need breathing time. I will have to put some thought into where I'd like these breaks to be. I am conflicted because I wanted the piece to depict an acceleration of sickness that finally comes to a halt. With pauses in between, that acceleration becomes interrupted. There must be a way to keep both

On a different topic, WOW I did not realize how easily this piece comes off as depicting LITERAL trials of cancer. It is actually about my struggle to quit smoking. The allusions to cancer, sickness, monster, etc. are all supposed to be representations of the addictive desire within. I need something more concrete to convey that right in the beginning. If I may ask for your opinion... maybe you can read my piece once more and see if you have any suggestions as to how I can make this clearer?

Lastly... it is VERY listlike. It began as an assignment in a creative writing class where I had to tell a story in the form of a list. But including more imagery would make the piece stronger, I am sure.

Thanks again for your feedback! I really appreciate it!

[cidermaid]

Hi allykat,
I had a further read through. After your notes i can see your thread of thoughts running through and actually one thing I had missed / blipped over in my first assesment is this line the burning of paper to ashes--enough, Also this: A hundred, two hundred, a thousand--disgust is I'm now thinking a referance to the pack sizes you buy.
All of which now seems perfectly clear, but i suppose i was so convinced in the begining it was describing the horrors of cancer sickness (and also as a non smoker) i failed to see the referance at the end.
So perhaps this could be worked in sooner in the read or some other equally obvious smoking referance (like an image for the stained fingers or the need to have something in your hands when out socially...the much reported weight gain from this problem).

Although perhaps my take on your poem is a mistaken read from your point of view, i should not be too upset about this. You will find that the issue of reader interpretation is a common disscussion point on the forum. I took meaning and found interest and in this enjoyment in your poem from my read and as such this gives it value and significance. It might be the case that many different reads will offer as many different slants on the meaning, but this is not nessasarily a negative. Write the poem you want to write. You control the poem untill you release it to the reader and then the reader will take what they will read from it and place thier interpretation on it.
We are fortunate on the site to have so many poets of different levels and outlooks on life and this makes for comprehensive range of views. However remember the crits offered are always just impressions and opinions, for you to consider to use to edit and improve your poem.

Hope this is of some encouragment and help AJ.

[allykat727]

Hey AJ, thanks so much for revisiting. I think working in the reference to smoking sooner would help a great deal, so I will put some thought to that.

Your advice on the interpretation of poetry is wise. I have to accept that when I let others read my work, I am relinquishing what it meant to me and offering them a chance to create their own interpretation.

Thank you for your time and advice!

[heslopian]

The nausea and ache, a search for a cure,

a chance with space to rid the impure. Get rid of impure people, or rid them of their impurity?
The horror of cancer was scratching the throat, Brilliant line. Dark and evocative.
the call and the answer destroys the alone. "Destroys the alone" really doesn't work for me. It feels very forced.
A temple, its people, a lesson that sweeps,
but smoke on the balcony smiles and sleeps.
A day and its night, a spark and its fire
with burning and warmth, and dormant desire.
The flash of the moon, no longer immune,
the creature, it threatens, is getting well soon.
A counterfeit smile, a plane for a while,
the sleep and the dreams and the nightmares are vile,
the moments, the minutes, the hours on trial,
unpacking and cleaning and packing, unpacking
and back at the room, the walls in the room,
the white and the wood and the mud and the food,
the ringing in ears, an emptiness waiting,
the restlessness, pacing, a vomitous aching,

an urgency racing, the impulse, the buy,
the water, more water, I tremble, alive.
A fidget, a shake, a twitch and a quake,
the voices of shock and the monster awake.
A hundred, two hundred, a thousand--disgust
at night every night getting hit by a bus.
A beat, asleep, the grinding of teeth,
the wake up, roll over, the night isn’t over,
the burning of paper to ashes--enough,
the shower, the water, the soap and the brush.

About halfway through this poem I started to discern a very legitimate style and approach; at first it feels like rhyme for the sake of rhyme, but then a pattern emerges: short clauses listing things (shower, water, soap, brush) to create a fast, frenzied, unsettling rhythm. This reflects the panic a serious, life-threatening diagnosis causes in a person, as well as the disjointed, nightmarish experience of treatment.
While I think that the poem could do with a few more unique images and sense of place and character, it does something very effective in a compelling way. Thank you for the read

[allykat727]

About halfway through this poem I started to discern a very legitimate style and approach; at first it feels like rhyme for the sake of rhyme, but then a pattern emerges: short clauses listing things (shower, water, soap, brush) to create a fast, frenzied, unsettling rhythm. This reflects the panic a serious, life-threatening diagnosis causes in a person, as well as the disjointed, nightmarish experience of treatment.
While I think that the poem could do with a few more unique images and sense of place and character, it does something very effective in a compelling way. Thank you for the read

Hey Heslopian,
Thanks a lot for the critique. Somehow, this post got by me unnoticed until now. I can definitely see how the rhyming feels forced in the beginning. Thanks very much for your comments! I am still editing this particular piece.. it has proven to be particularly feisty one to get quite right.