What is this cold/hot thing?
#1
What is this cold/hot thing?


What am I supposed to love now?
Give me your ghost or give me a massacre.
Just don't keep leaving me alone

I find my bleary eyes
slaved to a McDonald's sign,
and I am losing my mind.

Sing into my head
about the boy that missed us?
Leave my hosannas.
You used to sing hosanna . . .
on Easter, dressed up . . .

I'm worn out as a desert stone,
like a puzzle with all its edges gone,
the steam in a sauna
back into the bottle

In this vivid darkness, 
I'm
in the cherry dark,
all alone,
in the ruby dark,
so alone.

This unsalted potato barely looks like my heart anymore.
It barely looks like the thing you used to own
before you up and died.
Why'd you do that for?

I needed you then
now I need you more

Do you miss me
wherever you have gone?
Is it blissful there, or did someone get the whole thing wrong

Now, you are my viole't dream
You're the rainy road under my keening
You're the shuttered windows, no one sees
Could you crane your see-through head and kiss me deep one more time, as I fall asleep?

Where's my baby gone
I'm sitting in my truck 
now the engine's off

where's my Ruby gone
the doors are locked
and the radio is on
A yak is normal.
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#2
(07-11-2015, 11:53 PM)crow Wrote:  What is this cold/hot thing?


What am I supposed to love now?...or who?
Give me your ghost or give me a massacre.Not clear this early in what this line means. Context comes first...that way the obscure may not be. You begin with a question and follow with an enigma. It is not looking good for the reader
Just don't keep leaving me alone I read these things through before crit. I cannot reconcile this line with what comes later. It is almost as if you have written the whole piece backwards

I find my bleary eyes
slaved to a McDonald's sign, slaved? Again, what can you mean? Enslaved?
and I am losing my mind. Yes

Sing into my head
about the boy that missed us?
Leave my hosannas.
You used to sing hosanna . . .
on Easter, dressed up . . . Nope. Just too far out on the cerebral savannah...I cannot see it.I am not really convinced that this means whatever you think it means...so this may be the end for me.

I'm worn out as a desert stone,
like a puzzle with all its edges gone,
the steam in a sauna
back into the bottle

In this vivid darkness, 
I'm
in the cherry dark,
all alone,
in the ruby dark,
so alone.

This unsalted potato barely looks like my heart anymore.
It barely looks like the thing you used to own
before you up and died.
Why'd you do that for? Too vernacular for the ambience

I needed you then
now I need you more

Do you miss me
wherever you have gone?
Is it blissful there, or did someone get the whole thing wrong Is this a question?

Now, you are my viole't dream What the h'll is viole't?
You're the rainy road under my keening Keening? Help, I will listen. The word has many definitions but without some confidence in the context no meaning is certain... this is a pity because you waste a good word.
You're the shuttered windows, no one sees
Could you crane your see-through head and kiss me deep one more time, as I fall asleep?

Where's my baby gone
I'm sitting in my truck 
now the engine's off

where's my Ruby gone
the doors are locked
and the radio is on
Hi crow.
All is opinion but no to this...I have lost faith in the metaphor...whatever it was, is or may be. It is scattered, erratic, unbound and so loose it is falling apart like a wet newspaper. Abstractions are often translatable from first principles but this is obscure beyond all hope. I am unsure of everything you have written so you may well say "result."
Leaving it to others. I can do no more.
Best,
tectak
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#3
This poem has been haunting me as I go about my day (in a good way), like a song that get stuck in your head. It has been nagging at me that I was wrong about the end needing anything else. As it turns and turns in my mind I find I like it stopped right there like that. It bothered me at first probably because I like happy endings. Also, it almost reads like song lyrics. I wish I knew the melody.
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara 
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#4
Hi, crow, Smile. I like this for it's mix of blatant grief, fuzzy mystery and strong imagery. I've put some notes below about the few things that bother me.

(07-11-2015, 11:53 PM)crow Wrote:  What is this cold/hot thing?


What am I supposed to love now?
Give me your ghost or give me a massacre
Just don't keep leaving me alone

I find my bleary eyes
slaved to a McDonald's sign,
and I am losing my mind.

Sing into my head
about the boy that missed us? This line is evocative and mysterious enough without the question mark, I'd prefer a period.
Leave my hosannas.
You used to sing hosanna . . .
on Easter, dressed up . . . Strong line.

I'm worn out as a desert stone,
like a puzzle with all its edges gone,
the steam in a sauna
back into the bottle
Desert stone stands out as cliche, with steam and putting anything back in a bottle not far behind. I think I'd prefer "I'm worn out, a puzzle with all its edges gone." I think it's strong enough to stand alone.

In this vivid darkness, 
I'm
in the cherry dark,
all alone,
in the ruby dark,
so alone.

This unsalted potato barely looks like my heart anymore. Love this line.
It barely looks like the thing you used to own
before you up and died.
Why'd you do that for?

I needed you then
now I need you more

Do you miss me
wherever you have gone?
Is it blissful there, or did someone get the whole thing wrong The second half of this line feels a little bulky, you may be able to say it more eloquently.

Now, you are my viole't dream I like the violet/violent play after the reds above.
You're the rainy road under my keening
You're the shuttered windows, no one sees Bit of a meh line, cliche.
Could you crane your see-through head and kiss me deep one more time, as I fall asleep? Love the see-through head.

Where's my baby gone
I'm sitting in my truck 
now the engine's off

where's my Ruby gone
the doors are locked
and the radio is on

Much enjoyed, crow, thanks for posting it, meaty. Big Grin
billy wrote:welcome to the site. make it your own, wear it like a well loved slipper and wear it out. ella pleads:please click forum titles for posting guidelines, important threads. New poet? Try Poetic DevicesandWard's Tips

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#5
Good edits, all! Now, let me see . . .
A yak is normal.
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#6
Quixilated—

https://dl.dropbox.com/s/7tp2zb7lb2ae4oe...g.m4a?dl=1

Just fwiw
A yak is normal.
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