The Fear is in the Risk (Retro)

[Lizzie]

All right.....I'll hop on the Retro Train. This one is from an ancient NaPM thread.
It's prosaic in every way, but may contain a nugget worth keeping. Fingers crossed.


The Fear is in the Risk

The fear is in the risk
of laying awake at night for poetry –
staying at home for it,
slowly steeping yourself.

But you've married it:
let it penetrate, imprint itself onto you,
transform you into someone who sees
letters in the trees, dashes in the sand.

Half your social circle is long dead,
and the living don't care for your stories,
as if you're the last member
of your family to die.

Living poets are unknown –
might as well be Templar knights,
no one thinks they exist anymore.
You dare not slip and say, “I'm a poet,”
or even the lesser but more accurate, “I write poetry,”
for that's like saying, “I'm a Dodo bird.”

They'll look at you like you've just donned
a powdered wig and a parasol,
like you're too pretentious to eat BBQ
in their backyard, too morose
to laugh at their jokes.

Best not to tell people about writing poetry.
Treat it like a childhood lie
you can't ever reveal lest people know
you're fundamentally unlike them.

When people ask, “What are your hobbies,
what did you do this weekend?”
disclose a fetish instead!
Say to them, “I'm trying to learn how
to pee into my mouth.”
Because, unlike reading
or writing poetry,
they've actually tried that.

[Tiger the Lion]

All right.....I'll hop on the Retro Train. This one is from an ancient NaPM thread.
It's prosaic in every way, but may contain a nugget worth keeping. Fingers crossed.


The Fear is in the Risk

The fear is in the risk
of laying awake at night for poetry –
staying at home for it, could probably strike "at"
slowly steeping yourself.

But you've married it: colon may be too much here. lines below don't require it. A comma would probably do.
let it penetrate, imprint itself, onto you,
transform you into someone who sees
letters in the trees, dashes in the sand. "dashes" reads a little weak here. Lots of options available.

Half your social circle is long dead, don't need this comma
and the living don't care for your stories, if you make this a semicolon and strike "as if", you have a more immediate metaphor rather than the passive simile - hope I explained that ok
as if you're the last member
of your family to die.

Living poets are unknown –
might as well be Templar knights,
no one thinks they exist anymore.
You dare not slip and say, “I'm a poet,”
or even the lesser but more accurate, “I write poetry,”
for that's like saying, “I'm a Dodo bird.”

They'll look at you like you've just donned
a powdered wig and a parasol,
like you're too pretentious to eat BBQ love this line. as if a BBQ is where the lines are drawn
in their backyard, too morose
to laugh at their jokes.

Best not to tell people about writing poetry.
Treat it like a childhood lie
you can't ever reveal lest people know
you're fundamentally unlike them.

When people ask, “What are your hobbies,
what did you do this weekend?”
disclose a fetish instead! think you might embellish a little on fetish. "disclose some loathsome fetish" or the like
Say to them, “I'm trying to learn how
to pee into my mouth.”
Because, unlike reading
or writing poetry,
they've actually tried that.

Mostly enjoyed the piece, Lizzie. Some little punctuation tweaks I stewed over but your social circle would never have noticed. I haven't yet resolved how I feel about Strophes 4 and 5. I almost wanted the poem to end after the 3rd strophe. I'll take a closer look at the 2nd half on another read.
Good to see you around.

[Lizzie]

Half your social circle is long dead, don't need this comma
and the living don't care for your stories, if you make this a semicolon and strike "as if", you have a more immediate metaphor rather than the passive simile - hope I explained that ok
as if you're the last member
of your family to die.

I could do it this way:

Half your social circle is long dead, 
and the living don't care for your stories;
you're the last member of your family to die.

I think that trusting the reader to recognize the family member line as a metaphor is the cleaner way to go. Good call. 
However, I do need the comma after dead, because it separates two independent clauses. See Rule 3b.

I appreciate the feedback, Tiger, and agree with you that it rambles on a bit.

[Tiger the Lion]

Half your social circle is long dead, don't need this comma
and the living don't care for your stories, if you make this a semicolon and strike "as if", you have a more immediate metaphor rather than the passive simile - hope I explained that ok
as if you're the last member
of your family to die.

I could do it this way:

Half your social circle is long dead, 
and the living don't care for your stories;
you're the last member of your family to die.

I think that trusting the reader to recognize the family member line as a metaphor is the cleaner way to go. Good call. 
However, I do need the comma after dead, because it separates two independent clauses. See Rule 3b. You're right, thanks for the clarification. The section reads nicely the way you have it here. (reads stronger as 3 lines also)

I appreciate the feedback, Tiger, and agree with you that it rambles on a bit.

[brynmawr1]

All right.....I'll hop on the Retro Train. This one is from an ancient NaPM thread.
It's prosaic in every way, but may contain a nugget worth keeping. Fingers crossed.


The Fear is in the Risk

The fear is in the risk
of laying awake at night for poetry –
staying at home for it,
slowly steeping yourself.

But you've married it:
let it penetrate, imprint itself onto you,           maybe bring in DNA in this line or a virus infecting
transform you into someone who sees
letters in the trees, dashes in the sand.            you have an opportunity here to be more visual (I can't think of any examples right now, but you can!)

Half your social circle is long dead,
and the living don't care for your stories,       you've already reworked this stanza and I like the changes
as if you're the last member
of your family to die.

Living poets are unknown –
might as well be Templar knights,
no one thinks they exist anymore.             I feel like these first three lines could be two or one as they really say the same thing
You dare not let slip and say, “I'm a poet,”
or even the lesser but more accurate, “I write poetry,”      the cut words feel implied
for that's like saying, “I'm a Dodo bird.”

They'll look at you like you've just donned
a powdered wig and a parasol,
like you're too pretentious to eat BBQ      Also my favorite line   consider cutting  underlined parts
in their backyard, too morose
to laugh at their jokes.

Best not to tell people about writing poetry.
Treat it like a childhood lie                       not sure "lie" is the right word, "secret"? or something more sinister
you can't ever reveal/ lest people know    consider line break at reveal
you're fundamentally unlike them.

When people ask, “What are your hobbies,    asked
what did you do this weekend?”
disclose a fetish instead!
Say to them, “I'm trying to learn how         Never thought to try this.  Guess I'll stick with poetry
to pee into my mouth.”
Because, unlike reading
or writing poetry,
they've actually tried that.             I like the ending though I try not to think too much about what people do in private!

HI Lizzie,
I like your "retro" poem.  I can relate very much.  Just yesterday, my wife and I were in a book store and she caught me staring at nothing.  "Writing poetry?" she asked.  Yep!  As promised, I made some comments above.  Take with reservation as I am no expert!

One issue that I argued with myself about reading the poem is the overall style.  It is written in what I consider a fairly narrative style as you noted.  A few of my suggestions are towards a less narrative style(underlined parts), so disregard if they mess with your vision.  I will leave the punctuation to you.

I like the humor in your poems.  Very enjoyable.
Take care,
bryn

[TranquillityBase]

The Fear is in the Risk

The fear is in the risk
of laying awake at night for poetry –
staying at home for it,
slowly steeping yourself.            drowning?

But you've married it:
let it penetrate, imprint itself onto you,
transform you into someone who sees
letters in the trees, dashes in the sand.     angels in trees, worlds in the sand?  or something more than letters/dashes

Half your social circle is long dead,
and the living don't care for your stories,
as if you're the last member
of your family to die.

Living poets are unknown –
might as well be Templar knights,
no one thinks they exist anymore.                  not trying to be brutal, but seems like these lines could go
You dare not slip and say, “I'm a poet,”
or even the lesser but more accurate, “I write poetry,”
for that's like saying, “I'm a Dodo bird.”        favorite lines, 

They'll look at you like you've just donned
a powdered wig and a parasol,
like you're too pretentious to eat BBQ
in their backyard, too morose
to laugh at their jokes.                Yes!

Best not to tell people about writing poetry.
Treat it like a childhood lie
you can't ever reveal lest people know
you're fundamentally unlike them.              I think something more pointed here, like "you're a criminal"

When people ask, “What are your hobbies,
what did you do this weekend?”
disclose a fetish instead!
Say to them, “I'm trying to learn how
to pee into my mouth.”
Because, unlike reading
or writing poetry,
they've actually tried that.

I really enjoy the sentiment behind these lines.  I tell people I don't want to talk to that I write poetry.  Ends the conversation right away 

[Xlateralus]

All right.....I'll hop on the Retro Train. This one is from an ancient NaPM thread.
It's prosaic in every way, but may contain a nugget worth keeping. Fingers crossed.


The Fear is in the Risk

The fear is in the risk
of laying awake at night for poetry –
staying at home for it,
slowly steeping yourself.

But you've married it:
let it penetrate, imprint itself onto you,
transform you into someone who sees
letters in the trees, dashes in the sand.

Half your social circle is long dead,
and the living don't care for your stories,
as if you're the last member
of your family to die.

Living poets are unknown –
might as well be Templar knights,
no one thinks they exist anymore.
You dare not slip and say, “I'm a poet,”
or even the lesser but more accurate, “I write poetry,”
for that's like saying, “I'm a Dodo bird.”

They'll look at you like you've just donned
a powdered wig and a parasol,
like you're too pretentious to eat BBQ
in their backyard, too morose
to laugh at their jokes.

Best not to tell people about writing poetry.
Treat it like a childhood lie
you can't ever reveal lest people know
you're fundamentally unlike them.

When people ask, “What are your hobbies,
what did you do this weekend?”
disclose a fetish instead!
Say to them, “I'm trying to learn how
to pee into my mouth.”
Because, unlike reading
or writing poetry,
they've actually tried that.

Hi Lizzie. The poem felt very whiny until the very end which made the rest of it work a lot better. Perfect set up to the punch line, and mostly true. I don’t even show my wife the poetry I write, much less a neighbor.

It’s hard to workshop a poem that has broken the third wall, that is to reference itself and it’s author, but my suggestion, and I know it’s broad, is maybe to work in some inside jokes only real poets would know, though I know of none right now. Maybe they would ruin the punch line, and then who is the poem for?

Maybe the inside joke is everyone here gives an uncomfortable yep at the end of each stanza.

Fwiw I agree with tranquility base about cutting the first half of the fourth stanza but disagree on cutting the third. There is some finality about death though so perhaps I would consider repositioning it. But if you reposition it, having thought about it some more, it doesn’t really feel appropriate next to a suggestion to say you tried peeing in your mouth. But, it feels poignant. Maybe suggest cutting the first stanza and reworking the essence of that stanza to fit there. The first stanza seems like a thesis. Boring but perhaps necessary.