Daliesque

[REW]

Revision:

 
Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you, small as ginger root,
on the cutting board in my kitchen.
 
My Queen Kong hand, pale,
barely fits through the door.
I want to chop you up, but can’t
get the friggin blade inside, just the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish from a raging teapot,
dangerously close to dying on its blackening bottom. 

 
Then I know what to do.

II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
dipping their spoons into the swimming pool.
Melpomene with her spiked club drowned in the deep-end.
Thalia emerged from a ladder up the side trailing wet flowers.

I could smile again when silver reflected sun; 
It looked like love.

The oiled saddle rippled into sand;
Captive dandelion fluffs floated into air free
free free from your chewy gristle never 
to be ridden again.


Original:

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

[Nester]

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you,                   (maybe add these 2 commas?)
small as ginger root,
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.                        (You don't need capital "My": this is good, strong verse on its own)
 
My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.     (maybe "barely fits through the door"?)
I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;             ("friggin" sounds out of place here)
the clock is bubbling on the stove.                     (how is the bubbling clock related to the knife?)
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.                 (this line could be stronger)
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so,               (comma)
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool    (perhaps "dipping their spoons"?)
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned                        (sorrow et al are cliche)
and I could smile again when silver reflected the     (I try to not split articles between lines)
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.                    (strong ending: best 4 lines of the poem)

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

I hope my comments are helpful: I think this needs some revision, but overall it is solid and well-written, with some strong lines and contrasts.

[Mattp]

'ello Casey, some thoughts:

first off I think you may want to re-visit where you've placed your lines breaks - as they are you're a little disconcerting. Example:

and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.

You've broken your phrase into little wee bits. This could be three lines. This could even be two.

I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;

Love to see you break this line at "up". As it stands it's a strange place to break the thought.

and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.

Breaking your first line after "silver" or "reflected" would work, but I don't think you're good ending with "the".

A few more thoughts:

Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you

What? Lost me.

I think you need to build on saddle a bit - as it stands its kinda coming out of left field.

Digging your work with the large knife - expanding into this notion of it not fitting through the door is a nice touch.

There's promise here. I look forward to reading more of yours. Hope this is helpful.

- Matt

[Achebe]

I could identify a few objects from 'Persistence of memory' - namely the clock and the saddle, but not all.
The soup, for instance, or the teapot.
Might be a better idea to focus on a specific painting, otherwise the allusions are lost on all but the Dali expert.

EDIT: I didn't quite get the second stanza. If you couldn't get through the door, how did you throw the dude into the soup pot? It's there in 'Then I know what to do', but that doesn't explain a lot. Overall, I liked the story in the poem - I generally love the bizarre and bizarrely funny, which this piece is. If you work on making the transition from I to II less cryptic, I'd like it even more!

[aschueler]

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.  I like the opening images, esp ginger root...but they are all diff sizes.  But some do have appearances like figures.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand meh
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t indeed 
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove. I know it's Daliesque but this isn't needed
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.  Tired sounding
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said soi do like this transition
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned 
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;  I guess this is back to Dali, but doesn't seem to belong at all
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.moderate end could be stronger

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

[REW]

'ello Casey, some thoughts:

first off I think you may want to re-visit where you've placed your lines breaks - as they are you're a little disconcerting. Example:

and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.

You've broken your phrase into little wee bits. This could be three lines. This could even be two.

I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;

Love to see you break this line at "up". As it stands it's a strange place to break the thought.

and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.

Breaking your first line after "silver" or "reflected" would work, but I don't think you're good ending with "the".

A few more thoughts:

Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you

What? Lost me.

I think you need to build on saddle a bit - as it stands its kinda coming out of left field.

Digging your work with the large knife - expanding into this notion of it not fitting through the door is a  nice touch.

There's promise here. I look forward to reading more of yours. Hope this is helpful.

- Matt

Hello Matt,

Sorry for the late response...been overwhelmed with some happenings...

I appreciate your feedback and have noted issues with line breaks.  

As for the daliesque bit, I didn't interpret the term as having to literally be about Dali, but more an impression and possible mimicry of his style.  Since this obviously wasn't a painting, I tried to capture the feel of one of his paintings while adding my own bit too it.  It wasn't a literal written representation of his works.

I suppose I could have misinterpreted the term.  A hobby of mine is to be very exact in the terms I use or represent...perhaps I failed???  Anyway, thank you.

---

I could identify a few objects from 'Persistence of memory' - namely the clock and the saddle, but not all.
The soup, for instance, or the teapot.
Might be a better idea to focus on a specific painting, otherwise the allusions are lost on all but the Dali expert.

EDIT: I didn't quite get the second stanza. If you couldn't get through the door, how did you throw the dude into the soup pot? It's there in 'Then I know what to do', but that doesn't explain a lot. Overall, I liked the story in the poem - I generally love the bizarre and bizarrely funny, which this piece is. If you work on making the transition from I to II less cryptic, I'd like it even more!

Thank you Achebe,

I was trying to represent the term, "Daliesque" and not a particular painting.

I appreciate the feedback.  I am going to have to think about this...

---

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you,                   (maybe add these 2 commas?)
small as ginger root,
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.                        (You don't need capital "My": this is good, strong verse on its own)
 
My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.     (maybe "barely fits through the door"?)
I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;             ("friggin" sounds out of place here)
the clock is bubbling on the stove.                     (how is the bubbling clock related to the knife?)
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.                 (this line could be stronger)
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so,               (comma)
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool    (perhaps "dipping their spoons"?)
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned                        (sorrow et al are cliche)
and I could smile again when silver reflected the     (I try to not split articles between lines)
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.                    (strong ending: best 4 lines of the poem)

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

I hope my comments are helpful: I think this needs some revision, but overall it is solid and well-written, with some strong lines and contrasts.

Thank you Nester,

I will take your remarks into account for the revision process.

[billy]

Daliesque

I.
The knife is longer an unusual opener but apt to the title, i like it
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.

My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t is the 2nd [I] needed?
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove. great image and metaphor, again well suited to his artwork
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you. of or at?

Then I know what to do.

II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool is [as] needed?
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the is [and] needed? would the [the] work better on the next line if you replace the [and] in that line with a commar?
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free can this be expressed better visually?
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.


how to use the size function: no need to size every line.

the poem. after reading the other feedback i do agree it needs to suit his paintings but only as far as style goes, it isn't called "dali's art" his style here for me is being used as a carrier. my problem is this, is the turmoil aimed at the "you on the cutting board {maybe a joint of meat}" or the turmoil of doing the meal for others. i think in places you could remove a tiny bit of excess. the images do capture the artists style and so works well if that was your aim. all my comments are small potatoes on an enjoyable time in your crazy kitchen.

Code:

[size=medium]Daliesque

I.
The knife is longer [b]an unusual opener but apt to the title, i like it[/b]
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.

My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t[b] is the 2nd [I] needed?[/b]
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove. [b]great image and metaphor, again well suited to his artwork[/b]
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.[b] of or at?[/b]

Then I know what to do.

II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool [b]is [as] needed?[/b]
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the [b]is [and] needed? would the [the] work better on the next line if you replace the [and] in that line with a commar?[/b]
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free [b]can this be expressed better visually?[/b]
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.[/size]

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

[heslopian]

I really enjoyed this poem. The first half contrasts with the second very well; the first full of violence and horror, the second with a slight undertone of menace, but on the whole bathed in light and normality, the reintegration after the warped reality of what came before. The first half is my favourite just because of how well it disturbs our sense of reality in such a clean, crisp, imagistic way, never once tripping itself up grammatically or really hitting a wrong note. My one qualm with that first half would be the last line of the second stanza, which feels a bit overkill and tell-not-show, but it's not a major thing.

If I was to crawl out on a limb and hazard a guess at a meaning here, it would be that the poem is a metaphor for (or diatribe against, perhaps) the life of the domestic goddess, the housewife, or whatever you'd call it. She drives herself insane to achieve perfection while receiving little gratitude in return from those she serves.

Whatever the meaning, this was a neat poem, and the title surmises its surrealistic approach nicely. Thank you for the read

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

[Aidoneus]

I thouroughly enjoyed the imagery in this poem and it was very gripping. The only critique I have which I feel has already been addressed is the line breaks. I don't think the choppinness at the beginning is necessarily a problem, but it becomes when when you start having longer lines later on. I think this creates an unintentional change in the way the poem is read. However if you meant for that to happen, then please disregard.

[REW]

I thank you very much for your feedback Heslopian.  I got caught up in some other stuff, but plan on working on a revision for this shortly.  I appreciate the comments.  Thanks.  

I really enjoyed this poem. The first half contrasts with the second very well; the first full of violence and horror, the second with a slight undertone of menace, but on the whole bathed in light and normality, the reintegration after the warped reality of what came before. The first half is my favourite just because of how well it disturbs our sense of reality in such a clean, crisp, imagistic way, never once tripping itself up grammatically or really hitting a wrong note. My one qualm with that first half would be the last line of the second stanza, which feels a bit overkill and tell-not-show, but it's not a major thing.

If I was to crawl out on a limb and hazard a guess at a meaning here, it would be that the poem is a metaphor for (or diatribe against, perhaps) the life of the domestic goddess, the housewife, or whatever you'd call it. She drives herself insane to achieve perfection while receiving little gratitude in return from those she serves.

Whatever the meaning, this was a neat poem, and the title surmises its surrealistic approach nicely. Thank you for the read

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

---

I thouroughly enjoyed the imagery in this poem and it was very gripping. The only critique I have which I feel has already been addressed is the line breaks. I don't think the choppinness at the beginning is necessarily a problem, but it becomes when when you start having longer lines later on. I think this creates an unintentional change in the way the poem is read. However if you meant for that to happen, then please disregard.

Thank you for taking the time to comment Aidoneus.  Yes there have been some remarks about the line breaks.  I hope to work on a revision tonight and tomorrow that will hopefully result in an improved piece.

Thanks  

---

Ah Aschueler,

I am scrolling around in here looking at this thread and it appears that I didn't respond to your comments?  Gosh I am really sorry...not sure what happened.  Thank you for your criticisms in pointing out some issues.  I will be attempting to address them.  And my apologies for the seriously late acknowledgement.  My rudeness was unintentional.

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.  I like the opening images, esp ginger root...but they are all diff sizes.  But some do have appearances like figures.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand meh
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t indeed 
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove. I know it's Daliesque but this isn't needed
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.  Tired sounding
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said soi do like this transition
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned 
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;  I guess this is back to Dali, but doesn't seem to belong at all
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.moderate end could be stronger

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

---

Billy,

I read your remarks a while ago...was revisiting...and I do not see a response from me to you.  I do not know what happened.  I am sorry.  Thank you for your comments.  I didn't mean to be rude...

Daliesque

I.
The knife is longer an unusual opener but apt to the title, i like it
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.

My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t is the 2nd [I] needed?
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove. great image and metaphor, again well suited to his artwork
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you. of or at?

Then I know what to do.

II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool is [as] needed?
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the is [and] needed? would the [the] work better on the next line if you replace the [and] in that line with a commar?
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free can this be expressed better visually?
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.


how to use the size function: no need to size every line.

the poem. after reading the other feedback i do agree it needs to suit his paintings but only as far as style goes, it isn't called "dali's art" his style here for me is being used as a carrier. my problem is this, is the turmoil aimed at the "you on the cutting board {maybe a joint of meat}" or the turmoil of doing the meal for others. i think in places you could remove a tiny bit of excess. the images do capture the artists style and so works well if that was your aim. all my comments are small potatoes on an enjoyable time in your crazy kitchen.

Code:

[size=medium]Daliesque

I.
The knife is longer [b]an unusual opener but apt to the title, i like it[/b]
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.

My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t[b] is the 2nd [I] needed?[/b]
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove. [b]great image and metaphor, again well suited to his artwork[/b]
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.[b] of or at?[/b]

Then I know what to do.

II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool [b]is [as] needed?[/b]
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the [b]is [and] needed? would the [the] work better on the next line if you replace the [and] in that line with a commar?[/b]
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free [b]can this be expressed better visually?[/b]
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.[/size]

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

[REW]

Did some work on a revision here...

[aschueler]

So I didn't take it as rudeness you didn't respond earlier, actually figured my comments weren't helpful.  No worries at all.  I like both versions of your poem considerably.

Revision:

 
Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer than the whole damn street  you can't please everyone... I liked the earlier line breaks better 
and there is tiny you, small as ginger root,
on the cutting board in my kitchen.
 
My Queen Kong hand, pale,
barely fits through the door.
I want to chop you up, but can’t
get the friggin blade inside, just the handle;  mild logic issue;  why would you even try the handle?  I understood earlier better, visualizing a chefs knife where you need the handle et al. to chop with
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish from a raging teapot,
dangerously close to dying on its blackening bottom. 

 
Then I know what to do.

II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so. Still my favorite place
dipping their spoons into the swimming pool.
Melpomene with her spiked club drowned in the deep-end.  Had to look this one up...Greek references... Not sure about them.
Thalia emerged from a ladder up the side trailing wet flowers.

I could smile again when silver reflected sun; 
It looked like love.  This line works for me.

The oiled saddle rippled into sand;
Captive dandelion fluffs floated into air free
free free from your chewy gristle never 
to be ridden again.  Weird but works better


Original:

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

[Achebe]

This is strange. I posted something on this one but it's not showing up. Anyway, just wanted to say that I like this version. The Greek myth characters make it interesting in the second half.
Good job!

[REW]

So I didn't take it as rudeness you didn't respond earlier, actually figured my comments weren't helpful.  No worries at all.  I like both versions of your poem considerably.

Revision:

 
Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer than the whole damn street  you can't please everyone... I liked the earlier line breaks better 
and there is tiny you, small as ginger root,
on the cutting board in my kitchen.
 
My Queen Kong hand, pale,
barely fits through the door.
I want to chop you up, but can’t
get the friggin blade inside, just the handle;  mild logic issue;  why would you even try the handle?  I understood earlier better, visualizing a chefs knife where you need the handle et al. to chop with
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish from a raging teapot,
dangerously close to dying on its blackening bottom. 

 
Then I know what to do.

II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so. Still my favorite place
dipping their spoons into the swimming pool.
Melpomene with her spiked club drowned in the deep-end.  Had to look this one up...Greek references... Not sure about them.
Thalia emerged from a ladder up the side trailing wet flowers.

I could smile again when silver reflected sun; 
It looked like love.  This line works for me.

The oiled saddle rippled into sand;
Captive dandelion fluffs floated into air free
free free from your chewy gristle never 
to be ridden again.  Weird but works better


Original:

Daliesque
 
I.
The knife is longer
than the whole damn street
and there is tiny you
small as ginger root
on the cutting board
in My kitchen.
 
My pale Queen Kong hand
can barely fit through the door.
I want to chop you up, but I can’t
get the friggin knife in the house past the handle;
the clock is bubbling on the stove.
Vapor screams anguish like a raging teapot
of the thousand times I died for you.
 
Then I know what to do.
 
II.
…The soup was delicious, everyone said so
as they dipped their spoons into the swimming pool
where sorrow, hate, and evil drowned
and I could smile again when silver reflected the
sun and it looked like love.
I could finally throw out the oiled saddle rippling into sand;
Free free free
from your chewy gristle never
to be ridden again.

---

So I am doing a project.  Basically I am in love with the dictionary and I go through and find a word.  This is a dictionary piece.

aschueler,

I am glad you didn't offense!  And thank you for returning!  Ah I figured that the handle should be tried first since you have to use the handle to cut or else one will be cut!  As for adding the Greek muses, I did that because my words there before were cliche, so I tried to get around it while representing the idea.  I appreciate you pointing out a potential issue.  I did consider referring to dramatic masks before I went with the muses.

Thanks

---

This is strange. I posted something on this one but it's not showing up. Anyway, just wanted to say that I like this version. The Greek myth characters make it interesting in the second half.
Good job!

achebe,

You did post something before!  You had pointed out an issue with how the ginger root person ended up in the soup if the knife was in the street unable to be used to chop him up and cook him.

But there is a couple of different ways him becoming soup could have been accomplished.  I did try to address the other issues.

Thank you for returning!  I am glad that you feel it works better now.  Thanks.