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Style / Type: 
freeform

                             “Still Life at 19”
                        Somewhere quiet, we sit in on
                        ourselves five years ago.  Bagels
                        toast not so far away, strands of
                        your orange hair falling in small
                        mountains of poppy seed like bleached
                        nooses; the bright morning pallor
                        leaves us deaf, blind in this Summer
                        snowstorm with today’s leaky forecast;
                        my silver nose ring sniffing for the night’s
                        lost white line, a cheap telescope for
                        stars already crumbled.  We speak between
                        palpitations with a gaze that would make snails
                        nervous.  A man with graying hair in khaki
                        jeans carrying a baby passes us: we sneer.
                        Because even then, even now, when our nasal
                        passages do not need weathermen, we were
                        new.     
                                                    

This particular piece is not totally polished, and it isn't one of my more ambitious works. Any criticism/advice/response of ANY kind is always welcome.
4
Average: 4 (2 votes)
Submitted by conect11 on 24 June 2007 - 8:24pm.

hi quills

welcome to neopoet, glad to see you posted. You’ve started a nice little spontaneous verse here, but I agree, it needs some polishing. Your drug use allegorys are fine, but the work as a whole has a real inorganic, artificial feel to it. To put it plainly, it feels like it was written by someone in their college dorm, not someone who wrote it after experiencing it on the street, so as a reader I have a hard time connecting to it. I’m not saying you didn’t experience these things, I’m just saying that’s how the poem reads to me.

Submitted by quillsvein1 on 24 June 2007 - 9:41pm.

Poem

You’re absolutely right–it feels the same way to me. I was hoping I might be wrong, but we often have the correct intuitive feelings about our own
work despite out hopes. Thank you!

Submitted by weirdelf on 25 June 2007 - 5:21am.
weirdelf's picture

Took me back 20 years instead of 5

but otherwise spot-on. Maybe Mark did different drugs? 8)
Some gems of expression here, love “a gaze that would make snails nervous”!
cheers,
Jess

Submitted by dbaker on 25 June 2007 - 11:47pm.
dbaker's picture

Your Post.

Good use of imagery. I don’t know if you need a stanza break in this piece. To my ears though it sounds like it has two parts. Might want to make the second half a bit stronger…?

From my perspective, most poetry is about our observations of the events, happenings and people we interact with. This has a very well thought out observational perspective. However it needs a bit more passion to it. Make me feel what you are trying to convey…

Overall, I think this is a very good piece.

Cheers!

-David

Work, stretch, take risks, visualize your future. Become the poet you have always longed to be. All that is needed is honest effort.-DSB

Submitted by quillsvein1 on 26 June 2007 - 10:59am.

Poem

You’re dead on. I sort of new after I finished this one that it was lacking in a certain pep, and that the second half in particular was a little rushed and forced. I was so determiend to produce something that I sacrificed some crucial elements. I think poets hunger for recognition–even the smallest kind–that they make this very grave mistake from time to time. Thank you!

Submitted by quillsvein1 on 26 June 2007 - 11:05am.

Poem

You’re dead on. I sort of knew after I finished this one that it was lacking in a certain pep, and that the second half in particular was a little rushed and forced. I was so determiend to produce something that I sacrificed some crucial elements. I think poets hunger for recognition–even the smallest kind–that they make this very grave mistake from time to time. Thank you!