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| How to Join | Member's Area | Private Library | Search | Sanctuary | Login | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Main Forums | Discussion | Tech Talk | Mature Content | Archives |
A home without a wall, |
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| Critical Analysis #2 |
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What I do and Why |
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guyoverthere Member
since 2007-08-12
Posts 58 |
I spend my afternoons Making rhubarb tarts Searing fois gras Pureeing green peppercorn Sauces Spend my nights Sipping coffee As tickets roll off the printer Shaking hands with the guests Offering them free dessert I spend my mornings Skimming stocks and listening To onions sweat Braising veal cheeks Watching butter brown Waiting for the duck confit Spend my days Portioning salmon Dicing brunoise of purple Peruvian potatoes Poaching pears In chardonnay and honey Things are simple Where Steel is smooth Lines straight and honest Knives honed Aprons tied tight Clean, folded bar towels Tucked beneath my station My comrades Standing, arms folded Behind the lines Like doughboys in the trenches Waiting for the enemy |
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| © Copyright 2007 guyoverthere - All Rights Reserved | |||
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guyoverthere Member
since 2007-08-12
Posts 58 |
I would love some feedback. |
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viking_metal Senior Member
since 2007-02-02
Posts 1337In a Jeep, Minnesota. |
Ha! I absolutely loved that. It didn't feel choked, as poems often do. It also didnt have a SINGLE stumbling block. Title could use some work though. Haha! Excellent poem, sir. Excellent poem. |
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moonbeam
since 2005-12-24
Posts 2356 |
The appearance of two commas merely exacerbates the irritation engendered by a lack of punctuation. Some of the line breaks are unfathomable, and placing a word like “where” on a line of its own is always going to require a massive dose of justification. You also seem to have subjugated order and planning to a rank considerably behind sound and image - too far behind imho, and as a result the idea is wasted. On the other hand, you know how to order words to produce pleasing sounds and effects (over-alliteration excepted), and that to my mind is a great start; possibly the greatest start you can have in attempting to write poetry. Try thinking out carefully precisely what you want to convey, make a plan, and then use your obvious linguistic ability to execute it, and you might end up with more than a list of rather nice images and neat diction. M |
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Roysie Member
since 2007-08-05
Posts 102Canada |
You definitely have the gift which is always a pleasure to see. So many want to write for so many reasons yet so few can. I think you let this one get away a little. I felt the same about "Bathroom" your starting really well but not finishing. Please don't misunderstand because I truly like the way you write. I just think you sell yourself short by not delivering the knock out that you've set everyone up for. If that makes any sense at all. Regards Roy |
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ChristianSpeaks Member
since 2006-05-18
Posts 396Iowa, USA |
For me, you seem to understand how your poetry is read by the reader. It makes me feel as though I am reading like the writer. That is flat out cool. Listen to Moonbeam about the punctuation his is right on. Harsh as hell, but right on. I would take another whack at this one and make sure that you instruct us where to break by how you group your words. DON'T CAPITALIZED EVERY FIRST WORD!!!! Good stuff. Dane |
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moonbeam
since 2005-12-24
Posts 2356 |
Je dur ? Mais non, je suis savon de bébé  |
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guyoverthere Member
since 2007-08-12
Posts 58 |
Thank you all, especially moonbeam, for the very valuable input. I have been writing for a long time, but have never grown the guts to show. This is my second post ever of anything I've ever written. Agreed on all counts. Why I capitalize is beyond me, I chalk it up to rookie stupidity. The punctuation is very much just my being under-educated and not thinking it through. I'll clean it up and post it again. |
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guyoverthere Member
since 2007-08-12
Posts 58 |
A Revision: I spend my afternoons making rhubarb tarts, searing fois gras and pureeing green peppercorn sauces. I spend my nights sipping coffee as tickets roll off the printer. Shaking hands with the guests, offering them free dessert. I spend my mornings skimming stocks and listening to onions sweat. Braising veal cheeks, watching butter brown and waiting for the duck confit I spend my days portioning salmon, dicing brunoise of purple Peruvian potatoes and poaching pears in chardonnay and honey. Things are simple where steel is smooth. Where lines are straight and honest Where knives are honed. Where aprons tied tight and clean, folded bar towels are tucked beneath my station. My comrades standing, arms folded behind the lines. Like doughboys in the trenches waiting for the enemy. |
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