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Watching inebriate Charlie
pursued around inside a revolving glass door
or as a lone prospector ambling precariously
along a Yukon precipice
I can’t help but see that Other
with his gas mask mustache,
guttural hypnotism, and messianic delusions.
Where Charlie was loose limbed
seeding the world with joy
the Other grew progressively stiff
dedicated to hate,
yet I found an answer in Charlie
and I dreamed that the Other was condemned
to follow in Chaplin’s footsteps,
literally, stumbling through every gag
his brown uniform shabby and ill-fitting
his only symbol of power a slim flexible cane,
no crowds to fall headlong under his spell,
just startled bystanders jumping out of the way
of his spasmodic forced dance,
unable to use his hoarse voice
no Roman salutes left, only the laughter of his victims,
trapped inside every film
from Charlie’s flawless imagination,
dictating nothing but the absurd,
until he stumbles and bumbles his way
up the wooden ramp into the cattle-car
bound for Auschwitiz and a final audience
with a canister of Zyklon-B.
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Seems fitting, got him where it hurts: stabbed him in his theater side. I almost feel bad for him.
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(10-10-2021, 06:12 AM)TranquillityBase Wrote: Watching inebriate Charlie
pursued inside a revolving glass door
or as a lone prospector ambling precariously
along a Yukon precipice
I can’t help but see that Other
with his gas mask mustache.
Where Charlie was loose limbed
seeding the world with joy
Herr Hitler grew progressively stiff
dedicated to destruction,
yet God found an answer in Charlie
and I dreamed that Hitler’s Hell
might be to follow forever in Chaplin’s footsteps,
literally, stumbling through every gag
his brown uniform shabby and ill-fitting
his only symbol of power
a slim flexible cane, no Sieg Heils
left, only the laughter of his victims,
trapped forever inside every film
from Charlie’s flawless imagination,
dictating nothing but the absurd.
Enjoyed this Tim. I can't help feeling it would be stronger without mentioning his name- especially in the title. It might require a few more details, but nothing you're not capable of capturing. The name spoon feeds the reader a little. If that makes sense.
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Hi Tim-
This one and "Molloy" find you veering toward prose poetry, and abruptly away from the surreal pieces offered by "Telegrammatica" and "Watt's Reply".
I'm sure that yer aware that Chaplin played "Hitler" as Adenoid Hynkel" in the "Great Dictator", and apparently Hitler was a big Chaplin fan, and may have actually watched the "Great Dictator".
I was hoping that this one would focus more on Adolph (in Hell) being forced to watch that film over and over, and finally being directed by Chaplin in never ending versions of that slapstick role, with the audience laughing at him (Adolph as Adenoid), eternally.
There is an awful lot of telling in this piece, and it needs a lot more showing.
Anywho, I have a feeling that you'll gravitate toward a middle ground in the future, between surreal and prose poems- where your best work lies, in my estimation.
Always like reading yer stuff,
Mark
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I was expecting end rhymes, with the short, 8-11 syllable lines in the beginning
Without rhymes, I think it works better if the lines are less regular.
If the author doesn't mind, the below is closer to what I was expecting — a humorous piece to go with the sing song meter. Now the original poem is not humorous, ergo the meter needs to change
Watching inebriate Charlie
pursued inside a revolving glass door
or as a lone prospector ambling precariously
along a precipitous Yukon floor
I can’t help but see that other gimp
with his gas mask mustache.
Where Charlie was loose limbed
with the peripatetic tramp's panache
Herr Hitler grew progressively stiff
dedicated to destruction,
yet God found an answer in Charlie's 24 fps clip,
and I dreamed that Hitler's eternal induction
in Hell would be to follow forever in Chaplin’s footsteps,
literally, stumbling through every gag
his brown uniform shabby and ill-fitting (whilst Krebs
follows behind with his colostomy bag
and a slim flexible cane), no Sieg Heils
left, only the laughter of his victims,
the Franks and Lipmans, Karlovskies and Miguels,
while from the shadows, one of them kicks him,
dictating nothing but the absurd,
and for dinner, turds.
Posts: 894
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Joined: Jan 2021
10-10-2021, 10:17 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-10-2021, 10:31 PM by TranquillityBase.)
(10-10-2021, 06:23 AM)Kerbonzo_beenz Wrote: Seems fitting, got him where it hurts: stabbed him in his theater side. I almost feel bad for him.
KB, had not thought of that angle, but it's exactly right. In addition, that they are silent films would be an additional punishment, as H. considered his voice to be his greatest weapon.
(10-10-2021, 06:34 AM)Tiger the Lion Wrote: Enjoyed this Tim. I can't help feeling it would be stronger without mentioning his name- especially in the title. It might require a few more details, but nothing you're not capable of capturing. The name spoon feeds the reader a little. If that makes sense.
Agree on both points. Delaying the revelation of H. would vastly improve the new ending I have in mind. Thanks for the read and the suggestions.
(10-10-2021, 09:23 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: This one and "Molloy" find you veering toward prose poetry, and abruptly away from the surreal pieces offered by "Telegrammatica" and "Watt's Reply".
Not really veering. I'm still writing The Other Stuff, but trying for one that can connect to readers.
I'm sure that yer aware that Chaplin played "Hitler" as Adenoid Hynkel" in the "Great Dictator", and apparently Hitler was a big Chaplin fan, and may have actually watched the "Great Dictator".
I did not know Hitler was a fan of Chaplin. Researching it, the story is he watched Great Dictator twice, both times alone. He also loved Mickey Mouse and Gone with the Wind. Once America entered the war, his supply of American films was cut off and the war consumed him.
That he was a tramp himself during his Vienna years adds some poignancy to his love of Chaplin's early stuff.
There is an awful lot of telling in this piece, and it needs a lot more showing.
I'm uncertain how to navigate the "show vs tell" dilemma. I guess I'm wondering why "show" is by default superior to "tell".
(10-10-2021, 06:12 PM)busker Wrote: I was expecting end rhymes, with the short, 8-11 syllable lines in the beginning
Without rhymes, I think it works better if the lines are less regular.
If the author doesn't mind, the below is closer to what I was expecting — a humorous piece to go with the sing song meter. Now the original poem is not humorous, ergo the meter needs to change
Watching inebriate Charlie
pursued inside a revolving glass door
or as a lone prospector ambling precariously
along a precipitous Yukon floor
I can’t help but see that other gimp
with his gas mask mustache.
Where Charlie was loose limbed
with the peripatetic tramp's panache
Herr Hitler grew progressively stiff
dedicated to destruction,
yet God found an answer in Charlie's 24 fps clip,
and I dreamed that Hitler's eternal induction
in Hell would be to follow forever in Chaplin’s footsteps,
literally, stumbling through every gag
his brown uniform shabby and ill-fitting (whilst Krebs
follows behind with his colostomy bag
and a slim flexible cane), no Sieg Heils
left, only the laughter of his victims,
the Franks and Lipmans, Karlovskies and Miguels,
while from the shadows, one of them kicks him,
dictating nothing but the absurd,
and for dinner, turds.
Thanks Busker for the suggestion on structure. I think I'm hopeless when it comes to rhyme, but I'll test drive it. Enjoyed your rewrite and I think you are showing me how to show not tell. I need to work on that.
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