~Fallen~

[Fug-azi]

She’d had a rye life,
whisky eyes
seen through ice cube charms,
propped up on a bar stool pedestal
accepting only liquid worship -

no chasers for her,

and I caught her eye
as she swept the bump ‘n’ grind persona
of Friday night whores,
draped Dali like across wide-boys arms.

Her half moon smile
tainted by nicotine clouds
as they fought to escape
the confines of an inhale,
and me the rabbit in headlights glare,
tongue tied to this table,
nursing a misplaced conception.

She was slick as she oozed
through the waves of melded bodies,
caught in a chimera of sex and music;
a deep throb within.

Another notch to be nicked
in her playground stick,
a passing phase
in her latest craze,

she was warm in my lap
like a pile of bones before the pyre,
waiting .. just waiting,

and I found I could climb
the ladder of her spine, though her heart
had escaped that cage long ago,
all I could see was my dignity
lying discarded on an unmade bed,

and her proclaiming
“I used to be a lady.”

[Philatone]

hey there!
wanted to share some things I noticed; the comments are due to personal preference, so do take everything with a grain of salt

She’d had a rye life,...part of me wondered if this was necessary; it's not elaborated on and really only serves to set an introduction. plus, I think that the last line of the poem becomes stronger without this
whisky eyes
seen through ice cube charms,
propped up on a bar stool pedestal
accepting only liquid worship -

no chasers for her,

and I caught her eye
as she swept the bump ‘n’ grind persona
of Friday night whores,
draped Dali like across wide-boys arms. ..to this point, the flow feels pretty good. it does have a lot more description going on than action

Her half moon smile ...wasn't entirely sure if "half" was describing "moon" or "smile"; a dash might be helpful if the former
tainted by nicotine clouds
as they fought to escape
the confines of an inhale,
and me the rabbit in headlights glare,
tongue tied to this table,
nursing a misplaced conception. ...get the images just fine. the stanza could use a verb, otherwise it's a long clause

She was slick as she oozed
through the waves of melded bodies, ...like the "melting" imagery, with ooze, slick, and waves
caught in a chimera of sex and music;
a deep throb within....felt a bit extra to me

Another notch to be nicked
in her playground stick,
a passing phase
in her latest craze,

she was warm in my lap
like a pile of bones before the pyre,
waiting .. just waiting,..."waiting" already gives enough of its sense for me that personally I didn't need a repetition. "just waiting" alone on the line would have worked just as well, if not more, for me

and I found I could climb
the ladder of her spine, though her heart
had escaped that cage long ago,...usually with "cage," "ribs" would stand out as the expected body part, not spine. I had some trouble imagining the "spine" making a cage.
all I could see was my dignity
lying discarded on an unmade bed,

and her proclaiming
“I used to be a lady.” ...solid close

hope some of this is helpful!

[Fug-azi]

Appreciate the insight and most I'd agree with, the stanza you say about requiring a verb, it does have "nursing", "inhale", "tied" etc so I'm a bit confused by your response.

Agree with the dash, should be "half-moon"

Would adding "rib" to the stanza ie ;
and I found I could climb
the ladder of her spine, though her heart
had escaped that ribcage long ago,
all I could see was my dignity
lying discarded on an unmade bed,

Would be interested to hear more of your thoughts.

Cheers

[Veronique]

[quote='Fug-azi' pid='93723' dateline='1333483346']
Appreciate the insight and most I'd agree with, the stanza you say about requiring a verb, it does have "nursing", "inhale", "tied" etc so I'm a bit confused by your response.

Agree with the dash, should be "half-moon"

Would adding "rib" to the stanza ie ;
and I found I could climb
the ladder of her spine, though her heart
had escaped that ribcage long ago,
all I could see was my dignity
lying discarded on an unmade bed,

Would be interested to hear more of your thoughts.

Cheers

Phil is correct-- no verb.

Her half moon smile
------ tainted by nicotine cloud
------ as they fought to escape
------ the confines of an inhale,
------ and me the rabbit in headlights glare,
------ tongue tied to this table,
nurs((ed)) a misplaced conception.

Now you have one, a periodic sentence.

Her half moon smile
------ tainted by nicotine cloud
verb cluster
------ as they fought to escape
'as' (while) a temporal conjunction
------ the confines of an inhale,
let me invent something-- ok, this makes 'as'
introductive (transitive to the question 'to
escape what? -- at the same time(temporal).
------ and me the rabbit in headlights glare,
parenthetical
------ tongue tied to this table,
absolute cluster within the parenthetical
***
nursed a misplaced conception.
**********
Loved the poem.
V

[Philatone]

to explain my reasoning a bit, and extend on V's comment

Her half moon smile
tainted by nicotine clouds..."tainted" here describes "smile", making it a past participle
as they fought to escape ...this is a dependent clause, even though there is a verb. it is the main clause that needs a verb though, and there are plenty of subjects to use
the confines of an inhale,...here, "inhale" is a noun. if there is an "a," "an," or "the," before it , sure is a clue. or a preposition like "of". "Confines of what? Oh, confines of an inhale!"
and me the rabbit in headlights glare,
tongue tied to this table, ..again, "tied" works as a past participle, not actually working as a verb
nursing a misplaced conception. "nursing" here is a present participle, describing either "tongue" or "me"--now that I take a closer look, it might be a little vague.

not everyone uses complete sentenceswhen writing, but it is something I personally like and it seems like the rest of the poem was going for as well. I'm seeing a lot of participles--verb forms, but not quite verbs.
if you wanted to have a verb, just adding a "was" before "tainted" could work (not saying that it's the most elegant option, just an idea to show what's needed). the way a lot of the phrases are here, using a passive voice would be the easiest choice (e.g., the ball was thrown).

even breaking the stanza down into two sentences could work; gives the reader a bit of a break after a number of things to pay attention to.


regarding the "spine-rib"
I like "rib" more than "ribcage" in terms of aesthetics and sounds for the piece. or even:

"though her heart had escaped
the cage of her ribs;"

but that is really a personal preference.
again, I hope this finds you well and can be helpful

[abu nuwas]

Welcome!

What they mean, is that there is no main verb to pull the thing to-gether, so that it might read as a sentence. Of course there are verbs aplenty there, in different forms, or hidden in parenthesis, or clauses, but not that . Philatone's suggestion should explain.

I agree with Philatone about the throbbing and waiting. As for the cage business, I would have liked you to add 'bones' to the spine, which would sort that, and refer back to the 'bones' earlier on. Also --'wide-boy'? In 2012?

[billy]

great to see your 1st poem

She’d had a rye life,
whisky eyes nice connection and a good opening
seen through ice cube charms,
propped up on a bar stool pedestal
accepting only liquid worship -is 'only' needed?

no chasers for her,

and I caught her eye
as she swept the bump ‘n’ grind persona
of Friday night whores,
draped Dali like across wide-boys arms.

Her half moon smile
tainted by nicotine clouds
as they fought to escape
the confines of an inhale,
and me the rabbit in headlights glare, cliche
tongue tied to this table,
nursing a misplaced conception.

She was slick as she oozed
through the waves of melded bodies,
caught in a chimera of sex and music;
a deep throb within.

Another notch to be nicked
in her playground stick,
a passing phase
in her latest craze,

she was warm in my lap
like a pile of bones before the pyre,
waiting .. just waiting,

and I found I could climb
the ladder of her spine, though her heart
had escaped that cage long ago,
all I could see was my dignity
lying discarded on an unmade bed, this is the best stanza, if it were all as good as this, it wouldn't need anything else.

and her proclaiming
“I used to be a lady.” good finish

my main suggestion are that there are too many cliché's in the piece.
don't get me wrong, i think it a good piece and has enough originality to carry it, that said i think an edit to swap out some of the cliche for something else could make this a poem that shines.

[Todd]

Hi Fugazi, you have some nice things going on here. Here are comments for you. Hopefully some of them will be helpful to you.

Fallen feels like a bit of a bland title. I also think your first line feels a bit flat. It might work better as a title "A Rye Life" and just start the poem at L2.

She’d had a rye life,
whisky eyes
seen through ice cube charms,--for me, the addition of charms and pedestal in the next line feels to artificially added on. It could just be me but I think the lines would be better without those final end words (in the ice cube line if you'd probably want to make them ice cubes if you made the cut)
propped up on a bar stool pedestal
accepting only liquid worship -

no chasers for her,

and I caught her eye--Maybe add a "then" after the and
as she swept the bump ‘n’ grind persona
of Friday night whores,--I liked these two lines
draped Dali like across wide-boys arms.[b]--I like draped Dali like quite a bit (might need a hypen after Dali)...it's a very visual image that you could play with more if you wanted too warping and melting the perceptions more.

Her half moon smile
tainted by nicotine clouds--has sort of a cheshire quality to it
as they fought to escape
the confines of an inhale,
and me the rabbit in headlights glare,--the entire in the headlights thing is a bit cliche you could probably just have the rabbit frozen in some way
tongue tied to this table,--tongue tied also is a bit cliche you can come up with something better
nursing a misplaced conception.--Maybe add a comparison to a type of frivolous or ill-conceived mixed drink

She was slick as she oozed
through the waves of melded bodies,--this is sort of an echo to the Dali line that you could establish more earlier perhaps
caught in a chimera of sex and music;
a deep throb within.--I don't mind the deep throb line but maybe pull it up to the sex line and let the line break reveal that it is also the deep throb of the music also. It might make the lines more interesting.

Another notch to be nicked--here you play with the notch on the bedpost but the playground stick makes it less cliche and more interesting. The cadence and the rhyme give it a childlike game quality to it--even though the context is older. I like this sequence
in her playground stick,
a passing phase
in her latest craze,

she was warm in my lap
like a pile of bones before the pyre,--I wouldn't normally think of before the pyre as warm though I realize that the waiting implies waiting to ignite. I'm just not sure that the image conveys warmth to me.
waiting .. just waiting,

and I found I could climb
the ladder of her spine, though her heart
had escaped that cage long ago,--I like these two lines quite a bit. It strips away the sensuality.
all I could see was my dignity
lying discarded on an unmade bed,--I don't think you need lying

and her proclaiming
“I used to be a lady.”

I enjoyed the read. Again, hope some of that was helpful.

Best,

Todd

[Leanne]

Welcome! I greatly enjoy the film noir feel of the poem (and big thumbs up for spelling whisky the Scottish way, none of that bourbon crap )

She’d had a rye life, -- nice play on words, and I think it's a good way to set up your motif
whisky eyes
seen through ice cube charms, -- I'd be tempted to move "seen" up onto the line before
propped up on a bar stool pedestal
accepting only liquid worship -

no chasers for her, -- again, lovely pun

and I caught her eye
as she swept the bump ‘n’ grind persona -- I like the pop culture references here, the language choices suit the poem well
of Friday night whores,
draped Dali like across wide-boys arms. -- "Dali-like" could do with a hyphen

Her half moon smile -- I'd be tempted to make this entire stanza a pure description by changing "her" to "she" in this line and using a colon, ie. "She: half moon smile", to link up more clearly with "and me the rabbit in headlights glare" -- identify both players by facial expressions
tainted by nicotine clouds -- would "spoiled" work for you instead?
as they fought to escape
the confines of an inhale,
and me the rabbit in headlights glare, -- I'd hyphenate "rabbit-in-headlights" to make it clearer that this is another deliberate use of cliche
tongue tied to this table, -- I like the ambiguity of tongue-tied versus tongue (is) tied
nursing a misplaced conception.

She was slick as she oozed -- perhaps "She oozed slick"
through the waves of melded bodies,
caught in a chimera of sex and music; -- lovely! Where can I get one of those?
a deep throb within.

Another notch to be nicked
in her playground stick,
a passing phase
in her latest craze, -- great use of rhyme and other sound devices in this stanza

she was warm in my lap
like a pile of bones before the pyre, -- perhaps a slight change: "like a pile of bones waiting before the pyre/ ... just waiting"
waiting .. just waiting,

and I found I could climb
the ladder of her spine, though her heart
had escaped that cage long ago,
all I could see was my dignity
lying discarded on an unmade bed, -- I'd get rid of "lying", as it's implied

and her proclaiming
“I used to be a lady.” -- wonderful finish, both a lament and a declaration

[tectak]

She’d had a rye life,
whisky eyes
seen through ice cube charms,
propped up on a bar stool pedestal
accepting only liquid worship -fine line like others, but in danger of sinking into the obscurity of fine lace in a washing machine full of M and S knickers

no chasers for her,Try a fullstop?

and I caught her eyeDrop the "and". Theline above is not additive in any way
as she swept the bump ‘n’ grind persona
of Friday night whores,
draped Dali like across wide-boys arms.nice persistance of memory

Her half moon smile
tainted by nicotine clouds
as they fought to escape
the confines of an inhale,
and me the rabbit in headlights glare,
tongue tied to this table,In fact, check all punctuation. I am not inclined to. That is your job
nursing a misplaced conception.

She was slick as she oozed
through the waves of melded bodies,
caught in a chimera of sex and music;chimera? Are you sure?
a deep throb within.

Another notch to be nicked
in her playground stick,
a passing phase
in her latest craze,

she was warm in my lap
like a pile of bones before the pyre,
waiting .. just waiting,

and I found I could climb
the ladder of her spine, though her heart
had escaped that cage long ago,
all I could see was my dignity
lying discarded on an unmade bed,

and her proclaiming
“I used to be a lady.”

Like. Could like more but I am not shallow like that. I think needs tightening up more than anything else. You know how.
Best,
Tectak