OC poetry + constructive crit

[Anonymous No.2044808]

Hey /lit/, I just finished a new poem. What do you think? Feel free to post your own as well, and I will do my best to give good criticism.


I
On those sandstone steps,
where Woolf once sat and cried,
we talked like bottomless wells
into the night,

II
And his wordwater gurgled forth, all erratic and strange;
minerals of memory and imagination mixed,
earth and thought, into a flavour too rich to taste in full.
"It's a wood cabin," he said and rocked.

I said "What's a wood cabin?" but he just rocked
on the steps of the mansion,
the dark innards of his well trying to reveal
themselves all at once.
"What's a wood cabin, Andrew?"

III
He rocked.

"I just remember it."

[VeiL !!LpJFJwZq2Js No.2044809]

lol and the woolf bit loloool that was funny especially

That poignant grabby last line! :DDD so bad

[Anonymous No.2044812]

>>2044809
I've seen your posts before and I don't quite trust you. But that doesn't mean my poem isn't terrible.

Second opinion?

[VeiL !!LpJFJwZq2Js No.2044826]

>>2044812
My second opinion is that my first opinion is fact. :3

[Anonymous No.2044827]

>>2044812
second opinion here. it was shit. total shit. give up.

[Anonymous No.2044833]

Fair enough. Criticism accepted.

[Pointman No.2044837]

All in all, I liked the sort of moment you were going for, OP.

While I cannot grasp the use of a wood cabin in particular, having that sort of narrative toss-back between these characters, deep "like bottomless wells" in discussion, gives poignancy to the snippet of dialouge alone.

I see it as this - it's this search to understand things from a ignorant perspective, where when we know that people have some knowledge of something we find interest in we're of course inclined to pursue their information, but sometimes even they don't know. They can't elaborate or describe it, merely mark upon it as part of their minds/memory.

The poem reads alright and has some nice parts, especially "And his wordwater gurgled forth, all erratic and strange; minerals of memory and imagination mixed."

The only thing I can't...really follow is the I II III thing.

[VeiL !!LpJFJwZq2Js No.2044841]

>>2044837
It means 1, 2, and 3. Roman numerals.

[Pointman No.2044851]

>>2044841
>>2044841
>>2044841

I though he was making carving lines like Tom Hank's masterpiece, Cast Way.

[Anonymous No.2044853]

>>2044837
Yay, thanks for giving it consideration. Basically it was a real conversation I had with a guy who had a mental disability of some sort, and it was at a house that Virginia Woolf visited. You're right with the ignorant perspective thing - I wanted to write about people's inability to understand each other fully, which is one of Woolf's themes. I divided it into 3 parts because I wanted to get across a feeling of pauses without using words, especially at the end. I think it's a bit of a drastic/inappropriate technique just for that though, which is perhaps why it's puzzling. Thanks for your response, it's much appreciated.

Perhaps I should change the wood cabin to something more relevant to the poem's themes?

[VeiL !!LpJFJwZq2Js No.2044856]

>>2044853
Change it to the inside of the retarded man's mind like st elsewhere that would be some tight stuff dude.

[Pointman No.2044858]

>>2044853
>>2044853
>>2044853

Well, if he's referring to the house you're at, you could make sure the reader understands that a bit more, because it's odd for him to "remember it" if he's there.

He could say "It's a wood cabin." and then end it with "I just remember that." or "I just remember." It'd give a better opportunity to realize that he's remembering something right there before him.

And that's really interesting too - adds some nice dimension to the poem.

[Anonymous No.2044877]

>>2044858
He was referring to a cabin just out of the blue - the house we were at was stone. It was kind of eerie at the time. I might change it to:

I said "What's a wood cabin?" but he just rocked
on the steps of the sandstone mansion,
the dark innards of his well trying to reveal
themselves all at once.

[VeiL !!LpJFJwZq2Js No.2044879]

>>2044877
Inside the retards's head. is all of existence. That's cool.

[Pointman No.2044878]

>>2044877
>>2044877
>>2044877

Well, it'd bring a point to the reader at just how blank the speaker is if you made a small note on how his sudden thought differs far from where you are.

That looks alright, man.

[Anonymous No.2044880]

>>2044878
Thanks Pointman, you've been a great help!

[Pointman No.2044884]

>>2044880
>>2044880

No problem, Anon, keep up the poetry!

[Anonymous No.2044886]

>>2044879
Thanks to you too veil! You've been a way greater help thanks to these original ideas unlike pointman, who I happen to thank a tad less just because his help was boring.

[Anonymous No.2044888]

>>2044886
>mfw Veil

[Anonymous No.2044891]

I LIKED IT.

[Pointman No.2044895]

I'll repost my poem from the previous OC poetry thread seeing it died, I guess. Still looking for feedback.
__________________________________________

Impressions of Return


The slow engine-sputter tugged street-side
a down-street green; lawn rub with my heel and out -
then it sailed off, drone and slave spurts of gas to
fade out this quaint monster in the plume.
Me, scrawl the dumb smile that oddly fit
with mighty fists to grope these exit memories,
lathered in the worn leather carrying regards.
Down, my castle, sleep beyond some wood white planks,
and the sailor boat that fit brutishly neighbor-side to
pry at this view - the stark bushels of shrub unkempt
by the family folk escape not on my first sight;
these feet mummified forward, jerking to race - yet lose -
to my land-sake gone from so long.

"It's so great to be back," with the street shrinking on steps,
"Feels like forever," now slight counting in the head
to number your pace carved between lines in the pavement;

"I wonder what they'll say."

Within my night return, the twists of my face filing
from comedy to tragedy, repeat, are lost.

"Or what they have said."

No know to whom be home, the light dimly plays around
my visage under the door's walkway - just near the tattled
grass, like a gross sore - to only my rushing blood knocking
away at these cheeks and the beating heart.

So close now, not a word from me,
but expectations roar and war within.

[Nymovyn No.2044912]

I was sitting alone at the local pub for 4 hours and had drunk 9 bottles of beer.
Obviously, by that time I was completely drunk, that's when I heard: "Hey dude, you got a lighter?"
I turned left and there was a blue pig holding a Martini on one hand, and on the other hand holding a cigarette.
I gave him the lighter and he lit up the cigarette sending a immense cloud of green smoke to the air (he was probably smoking pot...).
I asked him: "Man, why are you blue? You okay?"
He said: "Yeah dude, I'm just fine... I'm only blue cuz ma mom was white and ma father wore jeans."
I said: "Man, that must be awesome! So, what brings you here?"
He said: "Dude, ma wife was bein all annoying and stuff, and the kids were like: «Hey dady, take us to the circus!». And I was like fuck y'all, cuz you know, pigs just wanna have fun, so here I am having a smoth Martini..."
I said: "Man, that's so true, having fun is awesome!". I called the barman and ordered a coffee.
The Blue Pig said: "So, what brings ya here?"
I said: "I think I'm here because I have no woman to entertain me... Plus, this place is pretty cheap!"
He said: "You know what, just call a hooker, and she may entertain you." He was doing a pedo-smile that scared me a little. I drank my coffee.
The last thing I remember was I looking left again and the pig disapeared.
I feel much safer without him staring me with a pedo-smile...

@CoaR

[Anonymous No.2044913]

>>2044895
"The slow engine-sputter tugged street-side
a down-street green; lawn rub with my heel and out"

This sentence doesn't make sense. You're basically trying to say "there were lawnmowers" but you've found a fantastically confusing and complicated way of doing it.

"lawn rub with my heel and out" I can't quite get over this sentence. What the hell.

I also really don't like the hyphenation. It's completely unnecessary, superfluous and therefore not worth putting in.

[Anonymous No.2044918]

>>2044913

What the fuck was that?

[Anonymous No.2044919]

>>2044918
Wrong post. I meant Nymovyn's post on
>>2044912

[Pointman No.2044920]

>>2044913
>>2044913

> lawnmowers

Hahaha, no no, it's a car actually.

The old car (slow engine-sputter) pulled up (tugged) next to (street-side) at a lawn down the street (a down street green.)

A passenger exits with his shoe barely scraping at the grass (lawn-rub with heel) and he gets out (and out.)

[Nymovyn No.2044923]

It's called LOOOOONG poetry my friendly anon