I remember the afternoon when you appeared at my door,
blazing a trail of halcyon rust,
pirouetting like a helpless feather in the wind,
bouncing elegantly off two walls
and letting gravity pull you to the nearest chair.
Mumbling about how much,
how clean,
hitting a pipeline,
the dark crimson surge
and heaven cascading through the walls;
a tidal wave extinguishing the pain.
I continued playing the battered Spanish guitar
that some tone deaf fool had left
abandoned after judging it with their eyes.
"That's nice" you said.
Smiled, swayed and drifted into bliss.
Content to just be, I encouraged the guitar
to continue singing sweetly
until it dawned on me that I was slowly killing you.
Gently letting you fall back to the womb
and away from reality's embrace.
All the time watching your colours fade
into a Baltic blue.
My last resort of cold water shock
let in a tiny chink of light,
piercing the cocoon,
flooding grey to pink,
triggering a sharp intake of breath,
prompting the glare and the words,
"Do that again and I'll fucking kill you!"
Over-Dozed (edit 1 Bryn, Tim)
I remember the afternoon when you appeared at my door,
blazing a trail of halcyon rust,
pirouetting like a helpless feather in the wind,
bouncing elegantly off two walls
and letting gravity pull you to the nearest chair.
Mumbling about how much,
how clean,
hitting a pipeline,
the dark crimson surge
and heaven cascading through the walls
a tidal wave extinguishing the pain.
I continued playing the battered Spanish guitar
that some tone deaf fool had left
abandoned after judging it with their eyes.
"That's nice" you said.
Smiled, swayed and drifted into bliss.
Content to just be, I encouraged the guitar
to continue singing sweetly
until it dawned on me that I was slowly killing you.
Gently letting you fall back to the womb
and away from reality's embrace.
All the time watching your colours fade into a baltic blue.
The last resort of cold water shock
let in a tiny chink of light,
piercing the cocoon,
flooding grey to pink,
triggering a sharp intake of breath,
prompting the glare and the words,
"Ever throw water on me again and I'll kill you!"
Many thanks to Bryn and Tim for the suggestions they were very helpful. I have incorporated a lot of them into this edit.
I think the ending is now better but I still think that it is the weakest part of the poem. I'll give it more thought as to how I can make it stronger.
Thanks,
Mark
Over-Dozed
I remember the afternoon when you, my good friend, appeared at my door,
blazing a trail of halcyon rust, you pirouetted like a helpless feather in the wind,
bounced elegantly off two walls and let gravity pull you to the nearest chair.
Mumbling about how much, how clean, hitting a pipeline,
the dark crimson surge and heaven cascading
through the walls as a tidal wave extinguishing the pain.
Without saying a word I continued playing the battered Spanish guitar
that some tone deaf fool had left abandoned after judging it with their eyes.
"That's nice" you said. Smiled, swayed and drifted into bliss.
Content to just be; I encouraged the guitar to continue singing sweetly
until gradually; it dawned on me that I was slowly killing you,
gently lowering you back into the womb and away from realities grasp.
I spoke your name.
Shouted it.
Screamed it in your ear.
Not a flicker.
Shook you as hard as I could.
Slapped your face over and over.
Yelling. All the time watching your colours fade into a baltic blue.
With my last resort of cold water shock I managed to let in a tiny chink of light,
which pierced the cocoon, which flooded the grey back to pink,
which triggered the sharp intake of breath, which prompted the glare,
which accompanied the words "Ever throw water on me again and I'll kill you!!"
(07-24-2013, 10:31 PM)ambrosial revelation Wrote: I remember the afternoon when you, my good friend, appeared at my door,
blazing a trail of halcyon rust, you pirouetted like a helpless feather in the wind,
bounced elegantly off two walls and let gravity pull you to the nearest chair.
Mumbling about how much, how clean, hitting a pipeline,
the dark crimson surge and heaven cascading
through the walls as a tidal wave extinguishing the pain.
Without saying a word I continued playing the battered Spanish guitar
that some tone deaf fool had left abandoned after judging it with their eyes.
"That's nice" you said. Smiled, swayed and drifted into bliss.
Content to just be; I encouraged the guitar to continue singing sweetly
until gradually; it dawned on me that I was slowly killing you,
gently lowering you back into the womb and away from reality's grasp. I put in an apostrophe but also consider getting rid of grasp
I spoke your name.
Shouted it.
Screamed it in your ear.
Not a flicker.
Shook you as hard as I could.
Slapped your face over and over.
Yelling. All the time watching your colours fade into a baltic blue. could us the medical term, "cyanotic".
With my last resort of cold water shock I managed to let in a tiny chink of light,
which pierced the cocoon, which flooded the grey back to pink, maybe go for more interesting word here. Also a lot of repetition of "which"
which triggered the sharp intake of breath, which prompted the glare,
which accompanied the words "Ever throw water on me again and I'll kill you!!"
Lots of good imagery. Guess you will have to decide if prose of not. Putting different line breaks in would help the reading and provide emphasis. Thanks.
Hi Bryn, thanks for the comments, I'll wait to see if I get anymore before editing just now. I really like your suggestion of 'cyanotic' but am unsure of whether I should use it or not as it is a word that I would not normally use, (especially considering I just learnt it today) in everyday language. Also 'baltic' is Northern UK slang for extremely cold and I also like the alliteration.
I remember the afternoon when you, my good friend, appeared at my door,
blazing a trail of halcyon rust, / you pirouetted like a helpless feather in the wind,
bounced elegantly off two walls / and let gravity pull you to the nearest chair.
Mumbling about how much, / how clean, / hitting a pipeline,
the dark crimson surge and heaven cascading
through the walls as / a tidal wave extinguishing the pain.
Without saying a word I continued playing the battered Spanish guitar
that some tone deaf fool had left abandoned after judging it with their eyes.
"That's nice" you said. / Smiled, swayed and drifted into bliss.
Content to just be; I encouraged the guitar / to continue singing sweetly until gradually; it dawned on me / that I was slowly killing you,
gently lowering you back into the womb / and away from realities grasp. letting you fall
I spoke your name. Shouted it. Screamed it in your ear. Not a flicker. Shook you as hard as I could. Slapped your face over and over. these lines do seem more like prose Yelling. All the time watching your colours fade into a baltic blue.
With my last resort of cold water shock I managed to let in a tiny chink of light, which pierced the cocoon, which flooded the grey back to pink, which triggered the sharp intake of breath, which prompted the glare:
which accompanied the words "Ever throw water on me again and I'll kill you!!"
I sort of took Brynmawr1's suggestion about line breaks and ran with it, thus all the "/"s. I didn't actually retype it to see how it reads with all those, but listening to it in my head, those seemed likely places for them. I added a space before the final line. And I'd say it's a poem and was before I tinkered with it. It does verge into prose with all those action lines towards the end. I like "baltic blue".
And I really enjoyed it too, especially the first four stanzas.
. Hi AR, it's improved with the revision, I think, but sags in the middle. And you're right about the end. I think it's the repetition of 'water' that weakens it.
So ...
I remember the afternoon you appearing at my door, blazing a trail of halcyon rust, pirouetting like a feather before gravity pulled you into the nearest chair.
(the 'bouncing off walls', elegantly or not, isn't adding much.)
You mumbled how much, how clean, hitting a pipeline was, the crimson surge dark heaven cascading through the walls
(I don't know what 'hitting a pipeline' means, so maybe the addition of 'was' doesn't work. Is 'a tidal wave ... ' needed. Whatever the 'pain' it doesn't feature in the rest of the piece, so, maybe cut it?)
I continued to play the battered Spanish guitar some tone deaf fool had left "That's nice" you smiled, swayed and drifted into bliss.
Content to just be, I encouraged the guitar to continue singing sweetly ........... I think 'I encouraged ... singing sweetly' is extremely weak. Just tell the story. Perhaps give some sense of what it is you are seeing that prompts the next line? until it dawned on me that I was slowly killing you. Gently letting you fall back to the womb and away from reality's embrace. All the time watching your colours fading into a Baltic blue.
(It's a great line to end the verse with. Trouble is, the lines leading up to it )
The last resort of cold water shock let in a tiny chink of light, piercing the cocoon, flooding grey to pink, triggering a sharp intake of breath, prompting the glare and the words,
(Considering the circumstance, there seems very little urgency here. I'm not suggestion returning to "I spoke your name ... Baltic blue" - but rather than 'cocoon, grey to pink' focus on the Narrator for a couple of lines?)
Thanks for the critique, you've given me a lot to think about and I will definitely come back to it after some pondering.
Just for clarification, the poem is about a heroin overdose and how the author had to try and stop that person from dying, that said this stanza -
mumbling about how much, how clean, - how clean the heroin is hitting a pipeline, - hitting the vein perfectly the dark crimson surge - the result of hitting the perfect vein and heaven cascading through the walls a tidal wave extinguishing the pain. - taking heroin to cope with chronic pain
I don't know if this helps, but I feel that hitting a pipeline and the mention of pain are necessary.
Thanks again for the thoughts, I will be back with a rewrite.
oh by the way I really your addition of an expletive at the end, it adds so much.
I agree with you about thepipeline (thanks for explaining.) The pain not so much. It doesn't really tell us enough about the visitor, and since the OD seems accidental, what does it matter? Worse, perhaps, it reads like an invitation to sympathy and just a little manipulative.
Maybe, just for clarity, expand the verse a little?
Just a note to say I really like the revision. I don't see the weakness in the ending that you refer to. I haven't studied Knot's suggestions, but seems a complete poem as it stands. That it was a heroin overdose was clear to me from the get go.
Not trying to discourage or disagree about revision. Just saying I like it as it is. The narrative is clear and precise.
Thanks to Bryn, Tim and Knot for the help.
I've posted a slight edit which has changed the last stanza to get rid of the 'water' repetition and added a bit extra in the last line.
I'm very pleased with how this has went, it's hard sometimes to know when to stop editing.
wae aye man ye radgie
)