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05-18-2012, 05:59 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-23-2012, 02:14 PM by billy.)
1st edit; thanks to tecktaks input (not sure if repercussion works in the 4th)
Looking through up-turned eyes;
a middle-aged reflection.
Smocked and prepped, chin on chest,
riding the barber’s chair.
I succumb to the calming snip-snip-snip.
Sharp steel blades
dance and coldly clip
a receding hairline.
“One size fits all”
Saturday evening, haircut night.
A chair and fifteen nervous boys
carapaced in government-green
of a painted brick corridor.
“Who’s first?”
No one moves; blunt clippers leave scars.
The finger fires at me; I edge forward.
Better to volunteer when the finger points.
Less painful than any repercussion.
Tin bowl on head, I snigger with fear.
A knee connects to my ribcage.
Winded, I double up. The bowl falls.
In silence, the pain wraps itself
around black size tens.
Eventually i complain in anger.
Men running, shouting.
Feet and fists help me to sleep;
thin sheets cover, never protect.
Don’t cry, never cry, never ever cry.
“Does Sir have something in his eye?”
Quote:Original:
Looking through up-turned eyes;
a middle aged reflection.
Smocked and prepped, chin on chest,
riding the barber’s chair.
I succumb to the calming snip-snip.
Sharp steel blades
dance and coldly clip
a receding hairline
“One size fits all”
Saturday evening, haircut night.
A chair and fifteen nervous boys
carapaced in the institutionalised green
of a brick painted corridor.
“Who’s first?”
No one moves; blunt clippers leave scars.
The finger fires at me; I edge forward.
Better to volunteer when the finger points.
Less painful than fist or belt.
Tin bowl on head, I snigger with fear.
A knee connects to my ribcage.
Winded, I double up. The bowl falls.
In silence, the pain wraps itself
around black size tens.
Eventually i complain in anger.
Men running, shouting.
Feet and fists help me to sleep;
thin sheets cover, never protect.
Don’t cry, never cry, never ever cry.
“Does Sir have something in his eye?”
this is an older one i hurriedly reworked
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(05-18-2012, 05:59 PM)billy Wrote: Looking through up-turned eyes;nicebecause Iknow what you mean. Very refreshing these days
a middle aged reflection.middle-aged unless you mean a Dorian
Smocked and prepped, chin on chest,
riding the barber’s chair.perfectly suited to the piece. Galloping along
I succumb to the calming snip-snip.try snip-snip-snip to see how it beats
Sharp steel blades
dance and coldly clip
a receding hairlinestop
“One size fits all”
Saturday evening, haircut night.
A chair and fifteen nervous boys
carapaced in the institutionalised greeninstitutionalised has way too many syllables. Try"...in the mandatory green"
of a brick painted corridor.of a painted brick corridor"
“Who’s first?”
No one moves; blunt clippers leave scars.
The finger fires at me; I edge forward.
Better to volunteer when the finger points.
Less painful than fist or belt.possibly over-Freudian.Something more likely,a bad word as it is your poem," less painful than a clip across the ear" to link to the clippers
Tin bowl on head, I snigger with fear.
A knee connects to my ribcage.
Winded, I double up. The bowl falls.
In silence, the pain wraps itself
around black size tens.
Eventually i complain in anger.
Men running, shouting.
Feet and fists help me to sleep;
thin sheets cover, never protect.
Don’t cry, never cry, never ever cry.[/b]the last two stanzas fall off a cliff and yet they are so relevant to the piece. I can hear the plaintive scream as gravity takes hold. Then silence. Is there no way you could provide a parachute? There is also some grindingly irritating lack of precision in the pen and ult stanzas. I felt that I really wanted to be an emotional part of the end game but I was suddenly excluded.
In truth,billy, this is appears to be a very interesting commentary on a quasi-serious period in the writer's life. Why quasi? Well, there are some humorous expressions/descriptions (accidental?) in the piece which initially lull the reader into a kind of sing-song familiarity. Then.....Bang! I am left wondering if I totally misunderstood the intent. This is a far worse predicament than total bewilderment or total comprehension!
Overall, I wish I had written it. ( oh.....you will, you will.........one day when incarcerated, perhaps)
Best,
Tectak
Last line below is perfect. Don't know how I got myself here.
“Does Sir have something in his eye?”
this is an older one i hurriedly reworked
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partially it's factual. the punching part is the actual  often a belt was worn over the fist to protect the knuckles and often it was just used as a whip. believe it or not it was a kid's home . albeit a wayward kid's home.
i like most of your suggestions which i'll use in an edit. (today or tomorrow ) much thanks for the feedback.
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(05-18-2012, 05:59 PM)billy Wrote: 1st edit; thanks to tecktaks input (not sure if repercussion works in the 4th)
Looking through up-turned eyes;
a middle-aged reflection.
Smocked and prepped, chin on chest,
riding the barber’s chair.
I succumb to the calming snip-snip-snip.
Sharp steel blades
dance and coldly clip
a receding hairline.
“One size fits all”
Saturday evening, haircut night.
A chair and fifteen nervous boys
carapaced in government-green
of a painted brick corridor.
“Who’s first?”
No one moves; blunt clippers leave scars.
The finger fires at me; I edge forward.
Better to volunteer when the finger points.
Less painful than any repercussion.
Tin bowl on head, I snigger with fear.
A knee connects to my ribcage.
Winded, I double up. The bowl falls.
In silence, the pain wraps itself
around black size tens.
Eventually i complain in anger.
Men running, shouting.
Feet and fists help me to sleep;
thin sheets cover, never protect.
Don’t cry, never cry, never ever cry.
“Does Sir have something in his eye?”
Quote:Original:
Looking through up-turned eyes;
a middle aged reflection.
Smocked and prepped, chin on chest,
riding the barber’s chair.
I succumb to the calming snip-snip.
Sharp steel blades
dance and coldly clip
a receding hairline
“One size fits all”
Saturday evening, haircut night.
A chair and fifteen nervous boys
carapaced in the institutionalised green
of a brick painted corridor.
“Who’s first?”
No one moves; blunt clippers leave scars.
The finger fires at me; I edge forward.
Better to volunteer when the finger points.
Less painful than fist or belt.
Tin bowl on head, I snigger with fear.
A knee connects to my ribcage.
Winded, I double up. The bowl falls.
In silence, the pain wraps itself
around black size tens.
Eventually i complain in anger.
Men running, shouting.
Feet and fists help me to sleep;
thin sheets cover, never protect.
Don’t cry, never cry, never ever cry.
“Does Sir have something in his eye?”
this is an older one i hurriedly reworked
Hi billy.
Good edit but take courage and hold on to convictions. The snip snip snip buggers up the meter of the next line so if this eye offends thee....pluck it out!
Best,
tectak/
PS I like this more than I care to admit. I often find it difficult to crit terse-verse. It really is worth a bit of housekeeping....workshopping is probably no longer required.
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I follow this pretty well until "Tin bowl ". I'm guessing this has something to do with boot camp in the army, but the reference to Tin Bowl, and pretty much everything after it I am lost on.
---------------------------------------------------------------
"The snip snip snip buggers up the meter of the next line so"
I' m not sure one can mess of that which is non-existent, although I get the point.
I think it needs a few extra syllables. Such as
"I succumb to the calming
"snip-snip-snip,"
of the sharp steel blades
that dance, and coldly clip
my receding hairline."
Dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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i do hold on...i just liked the extra snip. will look at it later tecktak.
the tin bowl may have been better described as some kind of basin. hence the term basin cut in the uk
will have a look later at the suggestions as i have to do something with that sea quest poem 
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Hello Billy. The poem unfolds nicely, I'm only a little disappointed that "scalped" hasn't found its way in somewhere.
I think "the government green" would make it immediately clearer that the boys aren't wearing green!
The weakest part of the poem is here, I think.
Tin bowl on head, I snigger with fear.
A knee connects to my ribcage.
Winded, I double up. The bowl falls.
In silence, the pain wraps itself
around black size tens.
Eventually i complain in anger.
I think you could cut those last 3 lines, make it more pointed.
The last line of the poem is a great finish.
Before criticising a person, try walking a mile in their shoes. Then when you do criticise them, you're a mile away.....and you have their shoes.
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(05-18-2012, 05:59 PM)billy Wrote: 1st edit; thanks to tecktaks input (not sure if repercussion works in the 4th)
Looking through up-turned eyes;
a middle-aged reflection.
Smocked and prepped, chin on chest,
riding the barber’s chair.
I succumb to the calming snip-snip-snip. I love the use of succumb here, creates an amusing image in my head.
Sharp steel blades
dance and coldly clip
a receding hairline.
“One size fits all”
Saturday evening, haircut night.
A chair and fifteen nervous boys
carapaced in government-green
of a painted brick corridor.
“Who’s first?”
No one moves; blunt clippers leave scars.
The finger fires at me; I edge forward.
Better to volunteer when the finger points.
Less painful than any repercussion.
Tin bowl on head, I snigger with fear. Snigger makes me think of mocking - is that what you were trying to convey?
A knee connects to my ribcage.
Winded, I double up. The bowl falls.
In silence, the pain wraps itself
around black size tens. I feel this line is a bit pointless and boring, I would cut it out personally.
Eventually i complain in anger. Capital I?
Men running, shouting.
Feet and fists help me to sleep;
thin sheets cover, never protect. How very surreal.
Don’t cry, never cry, never ever cry.
“Does Sir have something in his eye?”
Great finisher, hah.
Normally I find "bland" subjects difficult to focus on, but I found this easy to engage with and the surreality of parts of it gave it a quirky spin.
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06-08-2012, 10:28 AM
(This post was last modified: 06-08-2012, 10:31 AM by billy.)
(06-07-2012, 11:08 PM)Universalchild Wrote: (05-18-2012, 05:59 PM)billy Wrote: 1st edit; thanks to tecktaks input (not sure if repercussion works in the 4th)
Looking through up-turned eyes;
a middle-aged reflection.
Smocked and prepped, chin on chest,
riding the barber’s chair.
I succumb to the calming snip-snip-snip. I love the use of succumb here, creates an amusing image in my head.
Sharp steel blades
dance and coldly clip
a receding hairline.
“One size fits all”
Saturday evening, haircut night.
A chair and fifteen nervous boys
carapaced in government-green
of a painted brick corridor.
“Who’s first?”
No one moves; blunt clippers leave scars.
The finger fires at me; I edge forward.
Better to volunteer when the finger points.
Less painful than any repercussion.
Tin bowl on head, I snigger with fear. Snigger makes me think of mocking - is that what you were trying to convey? no, ever been in trouble and you laughed for no reason. it's a fear thing, but i'll look at it
A knee connects to my ribcage.
Winded, I double up. The bowl falls.
In silence, the pain wraps itself
around black size tens. I feel this line is a bit pointless and boring, I would cut it out personally. i'll work on it. removing means changing the line above
Eventually i complain in anger. Capital I?bugger
Men running, shouting.
Feet and fists help me to sleep;
thin sheets cover, never protect. How very surreal.
Don’t cry, never cry, never ever cry.
“Does Sir have something in his eye?”
Great finisher, hah.
Normally I find "bland" subjects difficult to focus on, but I found this easy to engage with and the surreality of parts of it gave it a quirky spin. i'll sort out an edit using your feedback later. the I is a definite and i'm sure i can do something with the boot line (you're the 2nd one to mention it)
i was going to go with giggle instead of snigger and didn't, i'm not actually sure if i'll change that one but i will consider your input on it 
thanks for the feedback.
(06-07-2012, 10:50 PM)penguin Wrote: Hello Billy. The poem unfolds nicely, I'm only a little disappointed that "scalped" hasn't found its way in somewhere.
I think "the government green" would make it immediately clearer that the boys aren't wearing green!
The weakest part of the poem is here, I think.
Tin bowl on head, I snigger with fear.
A knee connects to my ribcage.
Winded, I double up. The bowl falls.
In silence, the pain wraps itself
around black size tens.
Eventually i complain in anger.
I think you could cut those last 3 lines, make it more pointed.
The last line of the poem is a great finish. Thanks for the feedback penguine.
i'm thinking of cutting the size tens line and changing the line above it to suit. the anger line i think is needed as it runs into the next stanza. that said i'll consider the suggestion. i do like the idea of 'scalped'
once again, thanks
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