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Narcissa    Topic opened July 13, 2007, 09:17:12 PM

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Banana hammock.

My grandmother is not having a particularly good night, and that means I am not either.  So I figured I'd lapse back into some of the things I used to do back when she really got to me (which she kind of almost did today).  Hence, poem.




This silken blue collar around my neck
Keeps me from my romance with the streets
Though I dress not in white
The filth of fresh air stains my clothes

These ugly blue bruises on my skin
Bind me to my isolation nights
Though I sing soft and sweet
The grit of stale air burns my throat

Those deep blue eyes you swear I have
Alert me to the presence of your face
Though I hide in the dark
The breath in your lungs gives me hope




...I'm not sure about the ordering of the first two stanzas.  The first line is good the way it is, and the other way it's too abrasive.  But I want to keep up the to/from theme, and have it alternating properly.  I like doing poetry with subtle themes and different kinds of repetition and other techniques.

Any comments, critiques, suggestions?
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IridiumFleas Reply #1 in Tonight I will run away — Posted July 17, 2007, 10:03:01 PM
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Weave the world, dance the puppets, call the muse

I am horrible at giving critiques of poems, Narcissa.

Part of that reason is that phrases like "Though I dress not in white / The filth of fresh air stains my clothes" don't connect with me.

I have too many questions.  There are lots of colors, and the only one she says isn't hers is white.  But whatever color it is, it is "stained" with the "filth" of fresh air.

She's got bruises, so I know she's abused, and she stays inside because she doesn't want people to see her bruises.

"The grit of stale air burns my throat" makes me feel like someone is smoking a cigarette inside.

I note that you reference air in the last line of each stanza, blue and a body part in the first line of each stanza, and talking about "I" in the third line.  I am sure this is important, but I can't piece it together.

Hmm...

That's all I got.

Sorry.

Like I said, I'm horrible when it comes to poems.
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