I was drunk at our first tryst: you led me up the dark wooden stairs to your apartment. We kissed, and as my tongue went searching down below your breasts, you whispered “There might be a little blood down there,” inspiring impotence and then tears.
Ashamed, I confessed to your lover who was my friend and protector as you knew I would, I was just an ignorant pawn moved into position in an endgame to break his royal heart.
I had a tab of Purple Dragon, you said “I want to be with you when you take it, it’s like truth serum” but I tripped alone to prove I didn’t need you. I lay on my bed, stared at the moon and laughed gleefully, thinking of how I’d won you away from another man I viewed as a king but betrayed without remorse. I watched a rat cross the wire from the broken down garage to my roof as the truth came out in my laughter. I would have made a good aspirant in the court at Byzantium.
I was drunk at our first tryst: you led me up the dark wooden stairs to your apartment. We kissed, my tongue went searching down your torso, you whispered “There might be a little blood down there,” inspiring impotence and tears.
Ashamed, I confessed to your lover as you knew I would, I was just a pawn moved into position to break his endgame heart. You did not seem to care and weeks later, my reward: I watched you undress all was darkness and whispers. I was silent through the sweet moment.
I had a tab of Purple Dragon, you wanted to be there when I took it because “that stuff is like truth serum” but I took the acid without you. I lay on my bed in the dilapidated GI housing I called home, stared at the moon and laughed gleefully, thinking of how I’d won a woman in the underground war that sex has always been.
Outside the window a rodent crossed the wire from the broken down garage into the attic where below I lay watching as the truth came out in my laughter. I was devious, an actor who threaded my way to sex any way I could, like a high-wire rat, a remorseless acrobat. As you once said, I would have made a good citizen of Byzantium.
Hey Tim, this is not a real critique and I apologize for that, but I have a thought even before reading.
I've recently decided (rightly or wrongly) that generic titles rarely work in poetry. To illustrate: if you were to google "The Byzantine" you would likely get hits including 3 bad movies, 4 wrestlers, 3 poems and a classic motorcycle. (not that google is important, that's not where I'm going)
I would suggest an adjective in your title... The Dopey Byzantine, The Wise Byzantine, The Hateful Byzantine... doesn't matter, whatever fits the narrative you are trying to impose. This ostensibly disqualifies your poem from attempting to compete with other works that have tried to once and for all define Byzantine". Essentially, I'm saying that a poem titled "My Mom's Cat" has a lot less work to do than a poem titled " The Cat".
The Byzantine ................... agree with Tiger about the title, though that and the second verse got me as far as circular chess (which was interesting, but ...)
There's an engaging rhythm and rhyme hidden in the first verse, here's a step towards it .
I was drunk at our first tryst
you led me up dark wooden stairs,
to your apartment We kissed. As my tongue went searching
down your torso and you whispered .......................'torso' is a poor word choice, I think.
“There might be a little blood"
(I think if this was more 'regular/structured' it might show that N has something of the control and skill they claim to have at the end.)
S2.
Too much melodrama in this verse, for me - the 'pawn' and 'endgame heart' lies - and the 'confessing' never seems to lead anywhere. Can't you tie it and the 'heart breaking' back to 'blood'?
Is any/all of it really necessary? It feels a little muddled.
I had a tab of Purple Dragon,
you said "I want to watch you
take it, that stuff is truth serum”
but I took the acid without you. ......... we know it's acid, anything better here? And 'took' after 'take'?
Alone, on my bed I called home,
from the dilapidated GI housing
stared at the moon and laughed gleefully,
thinking of how I’d won a woman
in the underground war that sex has always been. ............ doesn't feel much like a 'truth'
S4.
It's a long way to go for the end line (and why isn't 'A Good Citizen of Byzantium' the title?) and it feels like a prose explanation. Not convinced at all the N is 'devious, an actor'.
08-19-2021, 08:02 PM (This post was last modified: 08-19-2021, 08:15 PM by TranquillityBase.)
(08-19-2021, 07:12 AM)Tiger the Lion Wrote: I've recently decided (rightly or wrongly) that generic titles rarely work in poetry. To illustrate: if you were to google "The Byzantine" you would likely get hits including 3 bad movies, 4 wrestlers, 3 poems and a classic motorcycle. (not that google is important, that's not where I'm going)
I would suggest an adjective in your title... The Dopey Byzantine, The Wise Byzantine, The Hateful Byzantine... doesn't matter, whatever fits the narrative you are trying to impose. This ostensibly disqualifies your poem from attempting to compete with other works that have tried to once and for all define Byzantine". Essentially, I'm saying that a poem titled "My Mom's Cat" has a lot less work to do than a poem titled " The Cat".
Thanks Paul,
I agree. I had a lot of trouble coming up with a title so I'm not at all in love with "The Byzantine".
Alternatives I've come up with so far:
Byzantique 1978
Purple Dragon
(08-19-2021, 07:59 PM)Knot Wrote: .
I had a tab of Purple Dragon,
you said "I want to watch you
take it, that stuff is truth serum”
but I took the acid without you. ......... we know it's acid, anything better here? And 'took' after 'take'?
Alone, on my bed I called home,
from the dilapidated GI housing
stared at the moon and laughed gleefully,
thinking of how I’d won a woman
in the underground war that sex has always been. ............ doesn't feel much like a 'truth'
Knot, Thanks for critique. I will work from your suggestions, but 1) is it really obvious that Purple Dragon is LSD? I thought that would be an obscure reference. 2) "war that sex has always been" how do you mean "it doesn't feel like a truth"? You mean it's not true in every case? Or not true at all?
1) is it really obvious that Purple Dragon is LSD? I thought that would be an obscure reference.
Whilst I've never heard of Purple Dragon, 'tab' told me that it was acid. I don't think 'tab' is what you'd call 'an obscure reference'
2) "war that sex has always been" how do you mean "it doesn't feel like a truth"? You mean it's not true in every case? Or not true at all?
Partly it's the 'underground war' (sexual competition is hardly 'underground'), second, it doesn't feel particularly revelatory, 'winning a woman' (well, that could be phrased better) and lastly I am not sure it's true in every case.
Then there the problem of how this 'truth' differs from the conclusion N comes to in the final verse. They seem awfully similar to me. And you spell it out too much, it's not elliptical enough to justify the Byzantium line (which is a nice line).
Consider ...
I had a tab of Purple Dragon,
you wanted to be there when I took it
because “that stuff is like truth serum”
but I took the acid without you. I lay on my bed
in the dilapidated GI housing I called home,
Outside the window a rodent crossed
the wire from the broken down garage
into the attic below which I lay watching
as the truth came out in my laughter.
I was devious, an actor who threaded my way ............... 'my' should be 'his'
(08-19-2021, 05:06 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: I was drunk at our first tryst: you led me up the dark wooden stairs to your apartment. We kissed, and as my tongue went searching down below your breasts, you whispered “There might be a little blood down there,” inspiring impotence and then tears.
Ashamed, I confessed to your lover who was my friend and protector as you knew I would, I was just an ignorant pawn moved into position in an endgame to break his royal heart.
I had a tab of Purple Dragon, you said “I want to be with you when you take it, it’s like truth serum” but I tripped alone to prove I didn’t need you. I lay on my bed, stared at the moon and laughed gleefully, thinking of how I’d won you away from another man I viewed as a king but betrayed without remorse. I watched a rat cross the wire from the broken down garage to my roof as the truth came out in my laughter. I would have made a good aspirant in the court at Byzantium.
I was drunk at our first tryst: you led me up the dark wooden stairs to your apartment. We kissed, my tongue went searching down your torso, you whispered “There might be a little blood down there,” inspiring impotence and tears.
Ashamed, I confessed to your lover as you knew I would, I was just a pawn moved into position to break his endgame heart. You did not seem to care and weeks later, my reward: I watched you undress all was darkness and whispers. I was silent through the sweet moment.
I had a tab of Purple Dragon, you wanted to be there when I took it because “that stuff is like truth serum” but I took the acid without you. I lay on my bed in the dilapidated GI housing I called home, stared at the moon and laughed gleefully, thinking of how I’d won a woman in the underground war that sex has always been.
Outside the window a rodent crossed the wire from the broken down garage into the attic where below I lay watching as the truth came out in my laughter. I was devious, an actor who threaded my way to sex any way I could, like a high-wire rat, a remorseless acrobat. As you once said, I would have made a good citizen of Byzantium.
The revision is a significant improvement on the original.
But editing out
I was devious, an actor who threaded my way
to sex any way I could, like a high-wire rat, a remorseless acrobat.
does rob the poem of its central message.
I wonder what the connection is with Byzantium, though. The emperor was opulent, but Byzantium is not associated with hedonism, only bureaucracy....?
(08-21-2021, 12:27 AM)busker Wrote: The revision is a significant improvement on the original.
But editing out
I was devious, an actor who threaded my way
to sex any way I could, like a high-wire rat, a remorseless acrobat.
does rob the poem of its central message.
I wonder what the connection is with Byzantium, though. The emperor was opulent, but Byzantium is not associated with hedonism, only bureaucracy....?
In blue - a bit wordy.
Thanks Busker,
The woman once told me, "You would have been a good Byzantine" or words to that effect. Also, "have you ever considered acting?" But perhaps I should just forget Byzantium (you are correct in that it is mainly used as a metaphor for intricate bureauracy today).
And I'd really like to weave those final strands back in.
