poetry critical

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I saw you at the five points, bill

you were a stiff leathered colt
with an eight-ball in your pocket.
it's hard to believe you still wore those pj's.
you cradled a dead rabbit in your arms
and by the christ i was jealous.
how long has it been since you held me like that?
how many lovers have been crushed
in that sickening fold?
i traced back to a time
when i searched you for a stump of meat.
my one leg stretched over the tub
the other firm on the mat,
my lithe origami of moisture in between
brushing against something bulbed
and suspended–
the rabbit was leaking out the mouth.

9 Aug 12

Rated 10 (8) by 2 users.
Active (2): 10
Inactive (2): 1, 6, 10

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the problem with this is that reads like it's formed off some popular-music mentality, aided by whatever the author may have been exposed to as poetry. it's right at the edge: if the author were willing to leave behind the comfort, and start shooting lead bullets instead of rubbers, the bullets would maybe hit the reader between the third and forth eyes. this one just makes me want to sit down and feel like a victim with a keyboard.

the poetry in this is so good, that i don't think the author needs to write out a short story first: the essence is already well defined in this. what's missing is a other person to love first, and cry about later. this is so much like pouty rejection that the gun is one of those bendy kind, pointing back at the author's head.
 — cadmium

I can see that. This could probably start at line 8 and be fine without the storyboard beginning.

Haven't been exposed in awhile so it's interesting and I appreciate the feedback. I like how you nailed the pouty defeat, was not aware of that till now.

Now to find the poetry. Thanks mike.
 — jenakajoffer

hahaha, man i make myself laugh sometimes.
 — jenakajoffer

Rabbit has undertones of fatal attraction here. Is that intentional or not?
 — PaleHorse

A horse, a rabbit, and a Lion walk into a bar. ..and then they read poetry.  Lol. I wish I didn't have to do this of my phone or I'd respond proper. Demented at your return.  Myxamotosis of soul yeah.
 — DeformedLion

PH, Nah, no fatal attraction inspiration here.:)
 — jenakajoffer

Love your bill poems, Jenn!  1-3 and 6-9 in particular rock
 — sybarite

i think of when gates creak—

yep i have my keyboard back. it is sweet to the tune of a thousand nightmares all ganging up inside my skull, and the kiss of a rabbit is a twitch brief upon the nose, what smoke then settled? i think i felt a fire once, but the tea leaves have shrunk up and sit deep inside of me. the problem with this is that it aches to blister my skin, but the fire has travelled to my belly. i live fat.
 — DeformedLion

so what you're saying is, you're too lazy to write a response, and the fire and smoke you once had, has turned you into some flabby piece of pork belly.

not bad, i can work with that.  
 — jenakajoffer

thanks for reading, sybarella
 — jenakajoffer

apocryphal; what i am saying is that with vim and vigour you have two v's colliding into an open ended statement which makes me want a sandvich.
 — DeformedLion

hahaaa, you're so funny! btw 'vim' is a powerful cleaning substance here in north america.  we might need that.  

if you eat it though, your belly will burst. seen it happen to seagulls.

so are you too fat to read 'so long', or does it just make you too sad
or maybe it's shit. i ain't much of a writer anymore.  well, i'm going to make a ham and swiss.  
 — jenakajoffer