posted
Sorry I goofed in the file title. The title inside the file is "Counting on Strangers." My wife prefers my alternate title "Life of the Party." What do you think?
Whatever I end up naming it, "Counting" is just a straight collumn poem. "Towers of B" is the only concrete poem I've ever written.
Posts: 35621 | Registered: Jun 2001
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KnightEnder
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posted
Okay, I fixed it. If you decide to change it, all you have to do is let me know and I'll take care of it.
posted
I prefer Counting on Strangers - the theme of counting runs through the poem, but the fact that it happens at a party isn't relevant to the message I got out of it.
I can't give you a technical critique (I'm an engineer), but the poem was very visceral.
The last stanza (is that the correct term?) was particularly powerful.
Posts: 101 | Registered: Oct 2002
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Mother Earth gives life to us. Mother Asphalt takes it with a kiss. The dark side of Mother Earth (and asphalt is black, which adds even more to this imagery) betraying us. The kiss even alludes to Jesus' betrayal in the Garden of Gethsemane.
I could relate quite well to everything, so I never really got lost - but I'm not sure what you're trying to convey inthe 3rd stanza when you write "as if mistaking it for the bathroom" I suppose a sense of confusion? If that is what you're aiming for, I think there might be better ways to do it.
I really enjoyed it
Posts: 101 | Registered: Oct 2002
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I'm trying to convey drunkeness on his part, apathy on mine. He lurches to the front door in the way a vomiting drunk might lurch towards the bathroom; I vaguely expect him to return, but he doesn't. I agree the line feels weak.
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I haven't read the poem but the qabove caught my eye.
The line may be weak but the slice of life it is meant to evoke is powerful. Lurching to the door like it were a waiting vomitorium...
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The imagery is most excellent (where the hell does a good mormon boy get such a feel for bad parties anyway? ), but the rhythm (meter, pace, whatever they call it in Lit-speak) didn't work for me.
Posts: 19143 | Registered: Jan 2004
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I was 16. Didn't find out the kid I'd been talking to on the balcony had tossed himself off Chapultepec tower until after the weekend. I don't go to parties like that anymore.
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