Writer's Taunt

[Carrie Birdsong]

Writer's Taunt

If I cut a t-shaped gash into my flesh,

And yanked out the heart from my chest,
To show you the still wonder of it;
Would you turn from me disgusted?

And as dark blood pumps thickly,
Spilling black splashes under shaded moonlight,
Unleashing the horrors that lurk in my very veins;
Would you gag on the realities that squirm there?

In the clotted patterns of my stagnant fluids,
Put on display on the cold gravel,
Your feet are cemented to;
Would you see how the white, pale moon,
Fractures into a galaxy of tiny stars,
As it reflects from the rounded beads of spatter?

Do you see beauty love?
Beauty in the dark recesses of incessant alleys,
Where monsters stalk the sick and weary,
And the mysterious low eyes,
That reflect bawdy neon,
Watching for the same lost,
Who wander here seeking to be found in faded dreams?

Follow me there,
Take my red-gloved hand,
And mind my falling insides,
Step around the gore in your clean shoes,
And I will show you a wonder.

[Lizzie]

Hi Carrie. I can see the element of taunting in the poem, but I don't know how especially it relates to being a writer. Not everyone writes for the same reasons, so maybe change it to be more personal or specific to your method or convictions.

Ok, onward.

Writer's Taunt

If I cut a t-shaped gash into my flesh, -- good sonics with shaped, flesh, chest, gash

And yanked out the heart from my chest,
To show you the still wonder of it; -- comma instead of semi colon
Would you turn from me disgusted? -- interesting how you say me, instead of it. Not good or bad, I just would expect you to write it as the reader would be turning away from the dismembered heart and spilling blood, not from the speaker. Just interesting, that's all.

And as dark blood pumps thickly, -- how would thick blood splash?
Spilling black splashes under shaded moonlight,
Unleashing the horrors that lurk in my very veins; -- don't need 'very' -- comma instead of semi colon
Would you gag on the realities that squirm there? -- what's squirming, the blood or the heart, or something else unnamed? It's too ambiguous, especially for a poem that claims to be about showing something clearly to the reader.

In the clotted patterns of my stagnant fluids, -- in the previous stanza the blood is splashing, but here it is clotted and stagnant. So, time has passed? That handoff between stanzas seems to be leaving out some kind of critical transition.
Put on display on the cold gravel, -- gravel is loose and cement is hard.....there are so many inconsistencies in the imagery.
Your feet are cemented to; -- comma instead of semi colon
Would you see how the white, pale moon, -- white and pale is redundant.
Fractures into a galaxy of tiny stars, -- at a loss as to how the moon splits into stars? What am I missing?
As it reflects from the rounded beads of spatter? -- here the blood is beading up...so it's not clotted yet.

Do you see beauty love? -- comma after beauty
Beauty in the dark recesses of incessant alleys, -- maybe 'endless' alleys instead of 'incessant'
Where monsters stalk the sick and weary,
And the mysterious low eyes, -- maybe 'their' instead of 'the', to make it clear that it's the monster's eyes
That reflect bawdy neon,
Watching for the same lost, -- good collection of sonics with bawdy, neon, and lost
Who wander here seeking to be found in faded dreams? -- faded dreams is meaningless. The sentence would be stronger stopping after found.

Follow me there, -- trying to
Take my red-gloved hand, -- red gloved is referencing the blood, yes? Yet, previously you described the blood as being black.
And mind my falling insides, -- why the weak and unevocative 'falling' after so many other strong words like stalk, bawdy, lurk? Make every word count.
Step around the gore in your clean shoes,
And I will show you a wonder.

Stanza 4 is a big thematic break with the others; it feels interjected and out of place. Perhaps it could be part of a different poem? No idea why my font here is so small, btw.

The challenge of taking something that many would look at as ugly or horrible and showing the beauty in it can yield interesting results. My hope is that you will carry on past the 'gore' to describe the wonder that you reference -- as it is, we're left holding the ugly and wondering where the wonder is.

So, I'd work initially on clarity and consistency of images, continuity between stanzas, and showing the reader the wonder not just telling about it.

You can do it!

Hope this helps some,

Cheers.

[Erthona]

It is difficult to see this in its entirety as a single metaphor, plus there are too many cliches, the regular kind and what I would call the "pop chic" kind that makes it appear shallow. "Take my red-gloved hand" comes across as just that, a glove that is red, not red from blood. So there is this image created (along with the shoes, not just shoes, but "clean shoes") that seems to somehow be trying to make a fashion statement. I do not think this is intentional, yet I believe at the unconscious level it has that effect. If you meant to convey that the speaker's glove is blood soaked, then say so and shoes will do just fine, one does not need to be told they are clean, this is generally assumed.

What is the difference between "If I cut a gash in my chest" and  "If I cut a t-shaped gash into my flesh"

each work equally as well, that is to say, not at all, as one would still have to get past the rib cage to get to the heart. So that the the gash is "T-shaped" is rather pointless.

As this is mild one last thing. This is a problem that recurs in that you step out of your metaphor. Example:

"Would you gag on the realities that squirm there?"

There are no "realities". If one is going to start in a primary metaphor: i.e., writing is the emotional equivalent of literally tearing one's body apart, one must stay there, not introduce elements that do not apply.

Oftentimes we learn by reading, in fact most times, but often we will not have a clear idea of exactly what we are doing at the technical level (mild of course is not the place for an exegesis on metaphor, although there are all kinds of helpful spots for such things).  Maybe that makes sense and helps some.

Best,

dale

[Carrie Birdsong]

I appreciate the feedback. There's a few things that I need clarification on to help me improve. If this is not the right forum to do this in, please let me know.
 First off, I feel as though this poem felt offensive to both of you. Particularly when you mention the gore. I was going for a sort of dark, Robert Browning, Wallace Stevens feel. I really like the horror genre and I've run into this problem a lot. Is it just naturally offensive to people to see gore in poetry or am I just approaching it the wrong way?
 Secondly, I'd like to elaborate on why the "t-shaped" gash is important. It's the way autopsies are performed in order to have easier access to the rib cage in order to remove the heart. So, that was the way I tried to cut length and redundancy. I assumed the reader would automatically know the writer would also have to go through the rib cage.
 Third, the red-gloved hands are mentioned by both of you. I assumed that the hands would be covered in red gore from cutting through the chest to get to the heart. I find it hard to understand how that would be seen as a "fashion statement". The clean shoes, I felt, actually did have to be stated because if a standing human removed their heart directly in front of you, I pictured some of it falling on the reader's shoes, which is part of what makes it seem so offensive.
 Fourth, the black to red blood and moon changes are what lend the timeline to this piece, or that's what I was trying to get across. If the writer's heart just stopped then you would have both intravenous and arterial blood. One of which would clot and dry immediately and one that would take longer. I was trying to remain realistic, too real maybe?
 This also speaks on the relevance of the moon refracting off the beaded blood i.e. the blood beading and the fact the blood is now in the moonlight and not the shade. I tried to pretty it up some, is it too flowery?
The rest of the points I intend to take to heart on future poetry. I like to keep poetry in its original form because it helps me track my personal growth. This is one I'd like to play with though so thank you very much for your insights. Please take my questions as an honest way to learn and not that I'm arguing at all. I generally believe everyone else is much smarter than me.

[Lizzie]

Nope, not upset by the gore. What I should have said instead of move past the gore, is move past trying to shock, trying to appall. The invitation is to see the beauty in the blood, in the heart, etc. yes? That's what I was saying is, tell us about the blood. Tell us about the heart. What does it look like? What does it remind you of when it drips, splashes. What do the intestines sound like when jiggled about? Ok, maybe not that, but you obviously know a lot about human anatomy, so tell us about it. SHOW us the beauty. As is, you're asking us to see the beauty and then never showing it. That's how I read it anyway. Everybody will read things differently.

I can certainly understand a reluctance to push your audience too far on an initial meeting, but you're not doing your poem service by holding back or trying to put flowers in its hair and stick it on a unicorn.

That's my take.

[Carrie Birdsong]

Nope, not upset by the gore. What I should have said instead of move past the gore, is move past trying to shock, trying to appall. The invitation is to see the beauty in the blood, in the heart, etc. yes? That's what I was saying is, tell us about the blood. Tell us about the heart. What does it look like? What does it remind you of when it drips, splashes. What do the intestines sound like when jiggled about? Ok, maybe not that, but you obviously know a lot about human anatomy, so tell us about it. SHOW us the beauty. As is, you're asking us to see the beauty and then never showing it. That's how I read it anyway. Everybody will read things differently.

I can certainly understand a reluctance to push your audience too far on an initial meeting, but you're not doing your poem service by holding back or trying to put flowers in its hair and stick it on a unicorn.

That's my take.

Ok I think I get what you mean. It's like doing the foreplay without the orgasm. That makes sense. So, in general, stick with one main metaphor, be more descriptive of the process as opposed to worrying so much about the comparisons and make it less choppy? Thanks so much for the discussion it helps greatly. 

[S.S.J]

Hi Bird,
I don't hate this. Welcome to the forum. 
If I could make one suggestion it would be to read Billy's poetry tips, devices, etc. I've been here for about two months and refer to them everyday!

The subject you're writing about is Cliche and has been done a "million times" before. So the devil really needs to be in the details.
I think Dale and the artist formerly known as LizzieP have already given you some great advice. Don't take it personal.
I believe you can be simple and elegant without being cliche and trite, but its an invisible line.
Unfortunately, most of the words you have chosen in your stanzas fall into the "do not use" category.
With all that being said you've still got some good imagery going on, so thank you for putting this and yourself out there.

Writer's Taunt

If I cut a t-shaped gash into my flesh,     I was hoping "t" was connected with taunt...

And yanked out the heart from my chest, the heart or your heart? This might be an inversion. how about cage?
To show you the still wonder of it;              
Would you turn from me disgusted?           this line works

And as dark blood pumps thickly,                           
Spilling black splashes under shaded moonlight,
Unleashing the horrors that lurk in my very veins;       dark, black, moonlight, very, veins, all weak choices!
Would you gag on the realities that squirm there?      I like squirm there, but what the fuck do I know

In the clotted patterns of my stagnant fluids,
Put on display on the cold gravel,         displayed on cold gravel maybe? its just wordy and trite, sorry
Your feet are cemented to;      
Would you see how the white, pale moon,
Fractures into a galaxy of tiny stars,         here ya go again, white, pale moon, galaxy, stars. No, just no
As it reflects from the rounded beads of spatter?      ok if you must

Do you see beauty love?
Beauty in the dark recesses of incessant alleys,
Where monsters stalk the sick and weary,
And the mysterious low eyes,         
That reflect bawdy neon,
Watching for the same lost,
Who wander here seeking to be found in faded dreams?   bawdy neon, might be the only salvageable words here

Follow me there,
Take my red-gloved hand,    nope
And mind my falling insides,     zzzz.....
Step around the gore in your clean shoes, I actually love this line and appreciate the detail of the shoes being clean
And I will show you a wonder.  Will you? It sounds pretty horrific to me. You've used wonder before but I don't think this brings it home here.

All that being said, I still like it and don't know why, probably because I'm a newb like you. You still managed to pull off some great imagery and immerse me into the scene. So for that I thank you and look forward to watching you grow.
-Jay

[Lizzie]

 thank you for putting this and yourself out there.

Thanks to both of you. ><

[Erthona]

"If I cut a t-shaped gash into my flesh,
And yanked out the heart from my chest,"

This is very sequential, yet no mention of going through rib cage. Expecting the normal reader to extrapolated that T-shape gash (cut would be better, I'll explain) implies that one "will" go through chest is asking a lot of the general reader.

A surgical and detached approach to such a scene makes it more horrific, whereas such words like gash make it more campy.

I would return to red gloves carrying a different connotation than bloody gloves.

"Oh look, she looks so stylish in her red satin gown with accompanying red gloves."

"Follow me there,
Take my red-gloved hand,"

glove and hand are redundant. As a surgical procedure has been formed, glove would tend to be the obvious choice.

"Follow me there,
Take my blood streaked glove"

Best,

dale

[Myotis]

I can relate to the morbidity of this poem. I liked how in the 3rd stanza you explain how the reflection of the moon is seen through globules of blood. It really gives an illustration and only something someone would notice first hand. Also seeing beauty in what is normal dark or decrepit is a nice concept. Some people might be in love with the monsters beneath their bed. Who are we to judge?

[mrweiner]

Most of the criticism here seems to be about content, so I'm going to focus a bit more on how the form reads instead.

-First word capitalization
Some of the first feedback I got was regarding this, and I was told to trash it right away. The more I read, the more I found that this technique is really not standard and doesn't read naturally. Just like non-poetic writing, I'd only capitalize the first letters following periods unless otherwise required.

-Punctuation
Every line doesn't need to end with a comma simply because they are lines of a poem. The visual break of starting a new line tends to have the effect that I think you're intending with the commas, so you should consider uses commas as an effect more than a requirement. Sometimes they break the feel, and sometimes they confuse your intent. Also, your use of semi-colons bothers me a bit, although that might be more personal preference than anything. I'm not entirely sure.

-Unneeded words bogging down your tempo
Try to avoid including words that work for the sentence but aren't required for your point. I always try to keep in mind that poetry is like the "golf" of writing. You want to pack the greatest punch into the fewest words/syllables (except when you don't want to -- hmmmm). For instance in S1 L2, does "And yanked out the heart from my chest" really need the word "out"?

With these critiques in mind, here's how I might reformat your poem without changing anything else. Of course, there are other ways to achieve this.

Writer's Taunt
If I cut a t-shaped gash into my flesh
and yanked the heart from my chest
to show you the still wonder of it,
would you turn from me, disgusted?

And as dark blood pumps thickly,
spilling black splashes under shaded moonlight,
unleashing the horrors that lurk in my very veins,
would you gag on the realities that squirm there?

In the clotted patterns of my stagnant fluids,
put on display on the cold gravel
your feet are cemented to,
would you see how the pale moon
fractures into a galaxy of tiny stars
as it reflects from the rounded beads of spatter?

Do you see beauty, love?
Beauty in the dark recesses of incessant alleys,
where monsters stalk the sick and weary
and the mysterious low eyes
that reflect bawdy neon
watch for the same lost
who wander here, 
seeking to be found in faded dreams?

Follow me there.
Take my red-gloved hand
and mind my falling insides.
Step around the gore in your clean shoes
and I will show you a wonder.