Well, hello.

[Lysander Gray]

I tried introducing myself 3 times. The laptop said no.

Fuck it.

PM me if you want to know who I am.

Here are 2 poems for your consideration.



Weather Poem

The sweat on my lip
brings this barometric memory
of heat and flesh
to the forefront.

Two fronts,
a Summer monsoon
where pale lightning plays
through reefs of golden cloud
circling an alabaster cliff
humming like live wires
with soft and hard design
with rain and sea spray.

The curve of your back
is a horizon.
The lines carved on your chest
are highways and slipstreams
above which gulls wing and wheel
below which mysteries are concealed.

And I sigh like thunder
to the softness of your storm
and I sigh like thunder,
to your silver screen embrace
I sigh like thunder.
I sigh like thunder.


Spleen
Empty glasses sit like soldiers at attention.
8 wide, 10 thick;
ranks for drunks.

The business of boredom
beats the barmaids and patrons
into service,
or subservience.

We are watched over
by flickering eyes
which could
stop
staring
at any moment.

Loneliness is a half-pint.

I'm glad my glass is full.

I'm glad the barmaid wears checks on her stockings.

I'm glad the barmaid reads.

I'm glad the economy is fucked,
so economists have something to make them feel interesting.

I'm glad the lesbians found feminism;
instead of Jesus.

I'm glad for the sad eyed, gray haired drunks
that live off Marlboro Red's and dream-fumes.

I'm glad the roof is stained with memories:
postcards
sketches
photographs
an old box of pills.

And I love you because you're a cocksucker.

[Leanne]

Your laptop's a wanker.  Let's look at your poems.

Weather Poem

The sweat on my lip
brings this barometric memory -- is "this" a better choice than just "a"?
of heat and flesh
to the forefront. -- "fore" could work just as well

Two fronts,
a Summer monsoon
where pale lightning plays
through reefs of golden cloud
circling an alabaster cliff
humming like live wires  -- is the monsoon humming, or the cliff?  Be careful of grammatical ambiguity
with soft and hard design
with rain and sea spray.

The curve of your back
is a horizon.
The lines carved on your chest
are highways and slipstreams
above which gulls wing and wheel
below which mysteries are concealed. -- lovely images in this stanza

And I sigh like thunder -- I'm not convinced that "and" is helping, especially since it turns up later in the stanza, where it does work
to the softness of your storm
and I sigh like thunder,
to your silver screen embrace
I sigh like thunder.
I sigh like thunder. -- the repetition to close is very effective here, because when I read the last line it's an echo of the previous, just like thunder.  Nicely done.



Spleen
Empty glasses sit like soldiers at attention.
8 wide, 10 thick;
ranks for drunks.

The business of boredom
beats the barmaids and patrons
into service, -- you could try a colon here, and just "subservience" (no "or") on the next line
or subservience.

We are watched over -- "over" probably isn't needed
by flickering eyes -- to emphasise the shorter lines of "stop/ staring", you could try moving "which could" up onto this line -- remember that readers privilege first and last words in a line, and one line with two relatively pointless words is a bit of a waste
which could
stop
staring
at any moment.

Loneliness is a half-pint.

I'm glad my glass is full.

I'm glad the barmaid wears checks on her stockings.

I'm glad the barmaid reads.

I'm glad the economy is fucked,
so economists have something to make them feel interesting. -- amen

I'm glad the lesbians found feminism;
instead of Jesus.

I'm glad for the sad eyed, gray haired drunks
that live off Marlboro Red's and dream-fumes.

I'm glad the roof is stained with memories:
postcards
sketches
photographs
an old box of pills.

And I love you because you're a cocksucker.  -- sweet of you to notice

[billy]

don't blame us for your laptop's misbehavior.

don't forget to eave some feedback in the three main forums

the poems. two at a time is greedy but i'll go with the flow.
i enjoyed the latter poem most of all that said both work pretty well, the originality is evident and make the poems better than average. the first extended metaphor for sex poem felt okay and not too over the top (or cliche)

the 2nd was down to earth and the narrative reminiscent of english pubs before the eateries took them over, i realize this is based on a yank bar (excuse the pun) because of the Marlboroughs, so it places the poem well. i wasn't keen on the formatting near the end of the 2nd poem, it didn't add anything for me

I tried introducing myself 3 times. The laptop said no.

Fuck it.

PM me if you want to know who I am.

Here are 2 poems for your consideration.



Weather Poem

The sweat on my lip
brings this barometric memory we don't know what this is. a suggest would be [a]
of heat and flesh
to the forefront.

Two fronts, two fronts indeed, how about to the fore on the line above to lose the doubling up of front/s
a Summer monsoon
where pale lightning plays
through reefs of golden cloud
circling an alabaster cliff a suggest would be to move this to the 2nd lin of the stanza as it reads a little awkward here.
humming like live wires
with soft and hard design
with rain and sea spray.

The curve of your back
is a horizon. is [is] needed? or would an horizon suffice
The lines carved on your chest
are highways and slipstreams
above which gulls wing and wheel
below which mysteries are concealed. i like the sound of ceal and wheel here.

And I sigh like thunder
to the softness of your storm
and I sigh like thunder,
to your silver screen embrace
I sigh like thunder. i like the double up here, it extends the moment
I sigh like thunder.


Spleen
Empty glasses sit like soldiers at attention.
8 wide, 10 thick;
ranks for drunks. a decent original opening

The business of boredom
beats the barmaids and patrons
into service, is a comma needed?
or subservience.

We are watched over
by flickering eyes
which could
stop
staring
at any moment.

Loneliness is a half-pint.

I'm glad my glass is full.

I'm glad the barmaid wears checks on her stockings. i like this image and the thought evoked.

I'm glad the barmaid reads.

I'm glad the economy is fucked,
so economists have something to make them feel interesting.

I'm glad the lesbians found feminism;
instead of Jesus.

I'm glad for the sad eyed, gray haired drunks
that live off Marlboro Red's and dream-fumes.

I'm glad the roof is stained with memories:
postcards
sketches
photographs
an old box of pills.

And I love you because you're a cocksucker. i think this line wraps the poem up really well. it's down to earth and carries a double meaning for the reader to decide

[Lysander Gray]

Thanks for the feedback! I'll take it on board and do some edits soon. The reason i chose the word ''this'' for the first stanza was due in part that the poem speaks of a specific thing or moment, and I felt the choice of word would help the reader realise that, to be caught in that. Of course the reader doesnt know what IT is but by the time they finish they should have some idea (ps. its fucking.)

I agree with changing forefront to fore.

The monsoon is humming. I will fix the grammar.

Leanne - yes the ''and'' is needed at the end, it is a leadup to the statement ''i sigh like thunder'', the anticipation I guess before the break, calm before the storm etc etc.


Regarding SPLEEN, the story behind it is rather interesting. I was in Melbourne 2 years ago on holiday and found myself at this place called the Spleen bar, where the walls were covered in all the strange detritus that I wrote about. The poem came when I was there drinking a beer, sitting between a group of hideously boring economists who were arseholed on red wine and talking loudly about how the economy was in danger. They were so lively and loud and annoying that I had to turn my attention to this pair of lesbians next to me and then noticed the old codgers at the end smoking indoors (and yes they were smoking marlboro) so it became a stream of consciousness attempt to capture this surreal moment.

RE: service/subservience , read it out with a pause between the lines and a slightly jaded tone. I firmly believe that poetry should sound good as much as it should be well written, that may come from the fact that most of my work is actually read out live as opposed to read on paper.

I do agree with the reformatting of the 3rd stanza.

Seriously though, thanks for the feedback!

[Leanne]

You're welcome -- and the best way to introduce yourself is to let your brain go to work on other people's poems -- not in this particular forum, but try Mild Critique or Serious Workshopping to stretch your muscles. Your feedback so far has been awesome.

[Leanne]

PS. Why do you use American spelling?

[Lysander Gray]

English is my second language, though I am now far more proficient in it than my first. It's a force of habit.

[Leanne]

It's an international forum, so we're not fussy -- well, I say we, but I'm a right fussy bitch :p

[billy]

it's my first language but i wish it weren't as i'm crap with it.
i'm scared to ask what your first language is for fear of feeling worse than i already do.

ps, thanks for the feedback you've been giving around the site. it's what makes the site thrives.

English is my second language, though I am now far more proficient in it than my first. It's a force of habit.

[bena]

Couple of comments from me.

on weather:

No need to explain the meaning. Anyone who didn't catch it within moments should be stoned publicly.

alabaster cliff is a tad cliché. You can keep it if you wish, but I think cliff falls right under skin for this modifier.

Stanza 3 L1:
Absolutely adore the fresh imagery, but my head tells me a horizon cannot be curved. maybe add mountainous for clarity? Not sure.

Four times you sigh like thunder in the last stanza. I adore repetition as much as the next person, but to me it does not represent the act of sex. You might sigh before and after but I bet during the middle you are pounding like it, or screaming like it. Just saying.

As far as Spleen goes, pretty much in love with the whole thing, but coming from tobacco country I can tell you that Marlboro Reds is a plural thing, not possessive.

cheers,

bena the town drunk....or idiot, depending on the day.

[vanilla]

After reading "Wine for breakfast," I had to look at your other threads to read more of that raw, sad humor that you pull out in your poems. I found that again in "Spleen", and I can not believe that English is your second language. I could see your eyes and thoughts skipping across the bar. You managed to turn a list of mundane details about a pitiful bar scene into a bold, cheeky commentary. The one part that tripped me up was the "watched over by flickering eyes" part--I was not quite sure what your emotion towards those eyes watching you were. Over all, I am once again floored by your point of view and your blatant honesty.