Sunday afternoon-- edit 3

[justcloudy]

edit 2 Thanks 71degrees and Dinosta

Starbucks on Sunday afternoon

She wears a ring of round cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves:
a red bracelet baring her state.
Chatter, tinks and samba swirl
around two empty café cups
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced
deep-sea diver, exploring

crevices that surface in eruptions
of blood. Cuts turn to ruby
lips, spitting bitter tastes
to tiled ground: one mouthful less
for her to swallow. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles
out the door.



edit 2 Thanks trueenigma

Starbucks on Sunday afternoon

She wears a ring of round cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves:
a red bracelet baring her state.
Chatter and silverware tinks swirl
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced
deep-sea diver, exploring

crevices that surface in eruptions
of blood. Cuts turn to ruby
lips, spitting the bitter taste of hate
to the tiled ground. One mouthful less
for her to swallow. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles
out the door.



edit 1 Thanks to BedsideFungus, 71degrees, trueenigma, ellajam

At Starbucks on Sunday afternoon

She wears a ring of round cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves:
a red bracelet baring her state.
Chatter and silverware tinks swirl unnoticed
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced
deep-sea diver, exploring hidden
crevices that surface in eruptions
of blood. Cuts turn to ruby
lips, spitting the bitter taste of hate
to the tiled ground. One mouthful less
for her to swallow. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles
out the door.



original
Red lines crisscross brown hairs on her arm.
She wears a ring of round red cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves—a bracelet
bearing to the world her current state of mind.
Chatter and samba swirl unnoticed in the air
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced deep-sea diver,
in front of two Starbucks cups, empty for hours,
ensuring our right to the table. Lines turn to ruby lips,
spitting bitter tastes to the ground. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles out the door.

[justcloudy]

Thanks for your very useful crit Bedside. Very good points all, I'll get working on an edit. I appreciate it!

-justcloudy

[71degrees]

Red lines crisscross brown hairs on her arm.
She wears a ring of round red cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves—a bracelet
bearing to the world her current state of mind.
Chatter and samba swirl unnoticed in the air
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced deep-sea diver,
in front of two Starbucks cups, empty for hours,
ensuring our right to the table. Lines turn to ruby lips,
spitting bitter tastes to the ground. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles out the door.

Am assuming there's drug and/or or self abuse happening here. I don't envy you being there with this person so I'm also convinced you have accomplished one of your mood goals. "Samba" is an odd word to me to add to the deep sea images but then again, so is the Starbucks setting. I don't think it's important for me know who these people are…the impersonal but specific traits are enough. I'm unnerved a bit by the lack of empathy and by the end you don't give me any clue that I should feel anything but disgust at this person's physical characteristics. I guess my question would be….what point are you making? What I like: details, details. Very strong. What I dislike: When I'm done reading, do I care?

I remain of fan of your work. It's to-the-point and blunt, and I like that style of writing. Emotionally, take me somewhere.

[justcloudy]

Along with Bedside you're pointing me in the right direction 71, and I'm taking note. Apparently I thought i was doing things here that I wasn't. Thanks for the thoughts and stay tuned for a edit in the next couple days.

-justcloudy

[Truerenigma]

Red lines crisscross brown hairs on her arm.
She wears a ring of round red cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves—a bracelet
bearing to the world her current state of mind.
Chatter and samba swirl unnoticed in the air
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced deep-sea diver,
in front of two Starbucks cups, empty for hours,
ensuring our right to the table. Lines turn to ruby lips,
spitting bitter tastes to the ground. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles out the door.

Cloud,

this strikes me as an "almost finished" poem. You might want to play with these ideas, then put it in a packet and send it around a bit:



Maybe experiment with trimming it a bit: I think "to the world" could go (actually you may want "baring", as being exposed is more dramatic, and to lose "current" as well, so that line could possibly function better as: "baring her state of mind") , as well as "unnoticed", "as" before "I crawl" should be replaced with punctuation at the end of the previous line; and "for hours" (that they are reserving the seats carries an implication that they are spending some time there, and should do the job fine on its own.)

Another experiment that might be worth trying out is using the line to help with sonics and drama, rather than appearance: Consider breaking after "face" instead of "diver", no one is expecting that metaphor, and I see no reason not to take advantage of the surprise; I think if you broke at "ruby", or even "lines", it would help enhance the sonics in "lips spitting bitter tastes"; you may want to also try breaking on "trickles", and let it trickle off the end of the line, with "out the door" on its own line.


That would be to my ear. What do you think?

[justcloudy]

It is unfinished. I was stuck. This place is great when that happens.

Lovely ideas, thank you so much. I'll play!

[Truerenigma]

It is unfinished. I was stuck. This place is great when that happens.

Lovely ideas, thank you so much. I'll play!

You're welcome. Have fun. BTW "almost finished" was my subdued way of paying you a compliment. Many of the poems around here haven't even started yet.

[ellajam]

Hi, cloudy, so much so well done here. A few notes:

Red lines crisscross brown hairs on her arm. If you cut this line you start on the so strong second line that for me says the same thing, but better
She wears a ring of round red cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves—a bracelet Great, clear image of state of mind, I don't know if explaining it below helps or hurts the poem.
bearing to the world her current state of mind.
Chatter and samba swirl unnoticed in the air Again, great clear arrow to state of mind
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced deep-sea diver, I love this line, so well describes the situation
in front of two Starbucks cups, empty for hours,
ensuring our right to the table. Lines turn to ruby lips,
spitting bitter tastes to the ground. The bile spreads Not a fan of "tastes".
under my chair, and trickles out the door. Strong end

Interesting poem, thanks for the read.

[justcloudy]

Thanks again true, and thanks ella for your comments as well. I took everything on board and posted a somewhat drastic edit. I took out the Starbucks/table bit. I think it works better without it, and I changed the title to help with the setting. Wondering if that works ok?

I'm hoping in this one the narrator is a bit more sympathetic to the subject, per 71's comment, and clearer in general per Bedside's. All comments welcome. Thanks so much everyone for helping me out.

-justcloudy

[ellajam]

Wow, beautiful edit. It doesn't feel drastic to me. The breaks really make me think, I especially like ruby, which really made me reach but when I came up with the great value of release it became much more than "red".

Well done.

edit Thanks to BedsideFungus, 71degrees, trueenigma, ellajam

At Starbucks on Sunday afternoon

She wears a ring of round cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves:
a red bracelet baring her state.
Chatter and silverware tinks swirl unnoticed
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced
deep-sea diver, exploring hidden
crevices that surface in eruptions
of blood. Cuts turn to ruby
lips, spitting the bitter taste of hate
to the tiled ground. One mouthful less
for her to swallow. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles
out the door.


original
Red lines crisscross brown hairs on her arm.
She wears a ring of round red cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves—a bracelet
bearing to the world her current state of mind.
Chatter and samba swirl unnoticed in the air
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced deep-sea diver,
in front of two Starbucks cups, empty for hours,
ensuring our right to the table. Lines turn to ruby lips,
spitting bitter tastes to the ground. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles out the door.

[justcloudy]

Maybe I meant more "heavy" than drastic. I'm glad you like it, thank you! =]

[Truerenigma]

That's much better. You really should cut "unnoticed" though. Swirl is much better for the break. And how would you even know they swirled if you didn't notice? If it's "unnoticed," why mention it?

---

The only way that technique (mentioning the unnoticed, (ie "unbeknownst to me", etc.) is useful in first person present-tense narrative is when it is done to foreshadow a future event. I don't think there's enough time in this short poem to construct a dire future encounter with noisy chatter and silverware.

[justcloudy]

Fair points True. I kept it because I cut "in the air", but the truth is neither are needed. Thanks for showing me that. =] Deleting it now.

-justcloudy

[Truerenigma]

Fair points True. I kept it because I cut "in the air", but the truth is neither are needed. Thanks for showing me that. =] Deleting it now.

-justcloudy

This is really shaping up. I like it. Now the real test: try deleting "hidden" in the editor, then click "preview post" and see how you feel about the way it strengthens that verb "exploring" and really puts it to work at the end of that line. What do you think about that?

---

I fact I like that suggestion so much that I would like to also suggests a stanza break right there as well,

deep-sea diver, exploring

crevices that surface in eruptions

creating a crevice which divides the poem in to two parts: 1) the characters and the interplay (anti-/pro-tagonist, her and the "diver", or narrator). 2) the bile.

This is a really nice poem Cloud.

[justcloudy]

Thank you for making it so much better. Really appreciate the guidance true. I wasn't sold on some of your suggestions at first but ended up seeing your points, and now I totally agree. Thanks thanks thanks.

-jc

[Dinosta]

Thank you for making it so much better. Really appreciate the guidance true. I wasn't sold on some of your suggestions at first but ended up seeing your points, and now I totally agree. Thanks thanks thanks.

-jc

I actually think your original version was much stronger. "Unnoticed" is valid, it's commenting on the background noise unnoticed by most of the people in the area. I might easily have imagined on my own that there is some silverware clatter, but samba is more specific and less expected. I also liked the line about empty Starbucks cups. It's drawn from a real experience, its relatable, it adds imagery, it lets us know they have been there a while, and that they have the kind of relationship where they would stay at Starbucks talking for hours. The strength of the original is that it paints a picture of this scene between the two women. I'm all for brevity, but in this poem I think you've cut the things that made it interesting. By cutting detail you also focus more on the masochism which makes the poem melodramatic in my opinion. When it was interspersed with other imagery it felt more matter-of-fact and honest.

The strength of your revision is that it clarifies the ambiguity in the last two sentences of the original. My suggestion is that you splice together the bolded sections below.

original
Red lines crisscross brown hairs on her arm.
She wears a ring of round red cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves—a bracelet
bearing to the world her current state of mind.
Chatter and samba swirl unnoticed in the air
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced deep-sea diver,
in front of two Starbucks cups, empty for hours,
ensuring our right to the table. Lines turn to ruby lips,
spitting bitter tastes to the ground. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles out the door.

Starbucks on Sunday afternoon

She wears a ring of round cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves:
a red bracelet baring her state.
Chatter and silverware tinks swirl
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced
deep-sea diver, exploring

crevices that surface in eruptions
of blood. Cuts turn to ruby
lips, spitting the bitter taste of hate
to the tiled ground. One mouthful less
for her to swallow. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles
out the door.

[71degrees]

edit 2 Thanks trueenigma

Starbucks on Sunday afternoon

She wears a ring of round cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves:
a red bracelet baring her state.
Chatter and silverware tinks swirl
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced
deep-sea diver, exploring

crevices that surface in eruptions
of blood. Cuts turn to ruby
lips, spitting the bitter taste of hate
to the tiled ground. One mouthful less
for her to swallow. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles
out the door.


edit 1 Thanks to BedsideFungus, 71degrees, trueenigma, ellajam

At Starbucks on Sunday afternoon

She wears a ring of round cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves:
a red bracelet baring her state.
Chatter and silverware tinks swirl unnoticed
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced
deep-sea diver, exploring hidden
crevices that surface in eruptions
of blood. Cuts turn to ruby
lips, spitting the bitter taste of hate
to the tiled ground. One mouthful less
for her to swallow. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles
out the door.


original
Red lines crisscross brown hairs on her arm.
She wears a ring of round red cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves—a bracelet
bearing to the world her current state of mind.
Chatter and samba swirl unnoticed in the air
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced deep-sea diver,
in front of two Starbucks cups, empty for hours,
ensuring our right to the table. Lines turn to ruby lips,
spitting bitter tastes to the ground. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles out the door.

Do like what you've done here. Like the split stanzas, the line breaks, etc. Much improved product. Don't like addition of "hate"….to either revision. Hate is sooooo abstract whereas everything else is so specific. I already know she hates…no need to slap me in the face with the word. I might be tempted to have her "….spit bitters" rather than having to explain to me what she's doing. Let the reader do a little work…there are a million girls out there with her story. What's unique about hers? Show me. I'd also pare the extras (e.g. "and" line 12) or "of" (blood eruptions, rather than eruptions "of" blood). This might allow blood to be the line break.

Again, this is splendid. Love the edits. Maybe enough is enough. That would be your creative decision.

[justcloudy]

Interesting thoughts Dinosta, thank you. You may be right about the samba, thanks for pointing that out. As for the rest, I think I'll stick with the revision, but do appreciate your contribution. =]

71, I must admit I chose "hate" largely for the sonics. I don't love it either, so I will think about how I can change it. I like the "blood eruptions" suggestion, but I'm not sure if I like it enough to change it. ;p Will have a think.

-justcloudy

[justcloudy]

Third and last (I think) edit posted.

Dinosta I thought more about your suggestions and added in a line about the cafe cups, I think you were right that it made it more commonplace, more human. Thanks for that.

71 I couldn't find anything to replace hate but I'm going back to the original, without anything, I think you were right that it was too much. It sounded nice but it didn't add much of anything at all.

Thanks to everyone for help with this one!! I'm quite happy with it now. =]

-justcloudy

[Truerenigma]

Starbucks on Sunday afternoon

She wears a ring of round cigarette burns
and three-quarter-sleeves:
a red bracelet baring her state.
Chatter, tinks and samba swirl
around two empty café cups
as I crawl into her brain, a red-faced
deep-sea diver, exploring

crevices that surface in eruptions
of blood. Cuts turn to ruby
lips, spitting bitter tastes
to tiled ground: one mouthful less
for her to swallow. The bile spreads
under my chair, and trickles
out the door.