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xiooua —
The First Movement
Published: 2007-02-09 04:58:27 +0000 UTC; Views: 7128; Favourites: 148; Downloads: 29
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Description
-I left my lover on the floor,
arms bent like a lamp cord.
He said to me things were
different looking up;
the ceiling was brighter,
my eyes were lit up.
And he sank into sand tiles,
his hands were raw and waiting,
and waiting.
-
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Comments: 81
well, everyone interprets it differently. that's what makes poetry universal, oui? anyhow, great job.
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That's the best thing about poetry. Thanks!
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'and he sunk' should be 'and he sank'. I like 'sand tiles' - you say you use it to describe the colour, but of course it also works very well with sinking.
Good stuff, and congratulations on the DD.
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Ha. How did I manage to do that? I never even noticed, thanks for pointing it out.
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I love the similie, it has a lot of power in it methinks.
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Perhaps instead of up the first time the word 'north' would be appropriate as whichever position your in 'north' is always up.
just a suggestion if it bothers you.
However personally the poem was still great. I personally, like most, am drawn to the first 2 lines. I guess any of us have that power to affect.
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Thanks for the suggestion! I don't think north would fit very well into the piece, but I appreciate the advice.
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yeah I realised that the second after I posted lol.
Good luck with the editing.
However like I said fabulous first 2 lines.
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Thanks! I don't know how much more editing I'll do to it. I may just have to accept using "up" twice. It's growing on me.
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it's quite yummy and a much deserved DD! excellent!
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I like it.
I especially like the first two lines.
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This is beautiful. Congrats on the Daily Deviation. :]
I'm really intrigued as to the meaning, though.
Care to divulge, or will you keep us guessing?
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Thanks! I don't mind giving you the basic idea behind the piece. It's essentially a story about a relationship that's ending, but the "lover" isn't ready to let go. There's a bit more to it than that, but then I'd have to get personal. And besides, poetry is no fun unless you can take your own meaning out of it.
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I know that kind of situation. It makes a little more sense now.
And I agree. But sometimes, one gets curious.
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I really like this. It's haunting and beautiful. and short. i've always found short poetry to be the most effective.
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Thank you! I'm not too fond of this one, but I'm glad you enjoyed it.
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I really really like this poem! The imagry was so good. The feeling too. The two ups do seem a little hard. Maybe you could do something with the punctuation to soften the repetition?
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Thank you!
That's a good suggestion, I can play around with it and see if the punctuation can be changed without destroying it.
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Aww, I'm too tired for a full critique on this piece right now. But I absolutely love it.
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Another poem from *xiooua !
I left my lover on the floor,
arms bent like a lamp cord.
I like those first two lines. The first gets your attention. There's some nifty consonnace there, too. Interesting simile--very limp and helpless.
I, too, am not liking the two ups. English idioms can be tricky in poetry. The repetition of that hard monosyllabic word is a bit jarring. Which is the line you don't want to lose? I like the second use better; it fits in with the lamp.
And he sunk into sand tiles,
his hands were raw and waiting,
and waiting.
I don't know what a "sand tile" is, but I like this closing stanza. The repetition of "waiting" works much better than "up," in my opinion. I feel there's purpose there--it emphasizes the abandonment/longing (at least, that's how I read it).
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I suppose I could lose the line about the ceiling, but I'd rather not. However, the last line of the first stanza is vital, without it the piece loses all it's meaning. And if I do remove one of them, then the stanza will be incomplete. It's frustrating.
And I used sand just to specify the color of the tile, in my usual vague way.
I have no qualms with the second stanza, it sounds exactly as I want it. The repetition of waiting was intentional, the repetition of up was, to me at the time, unavoidable.
Thanks for the comment dear, I owe you a million. I promise I'll get around to your gallery. Double pinkie swears and such.
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