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trochee
| in my head | 1 |
ants crawl | 2 |
as i linger on the sound of you | 3 |
humming in my chest | 4 |
until i start singing along | 5 |
and my Bombay lisp breaks | 6 |
our off-screen chemistry | 7 |
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a dog maneuvers a chicken leg | 8 |
in my head | 9 |
when i remember you | 10 |
as a time in a day | 11 |
and your creepy innocence | 12 |
rescues me at 2 | 13 |
from a cold dead Friday | 14 |
in my head | 15 |
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then i see you standing alone | 16 |
below the tree of life | 17 |
which smells green to the eyes | 18 |
tastes red in my mouth | 19 |
and feels blue | 20 |
in my head. | 21 |
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31 Jul 10 |
Rated 9.7 (9.7) by 5 users.
Active (5): 9, 9, 10, 10, 10
Inactive (0):
(define the words in this poem)
(68 more poems by this author)
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Comments:
Nice poem but I'm thinking two too many 'in my head(s)'. Maybe omit lines 15 and 17? Otherwise, quite like it.
— JKWeb
how about 'subconscious' for L17?
— mandolyn
are you saying, mando, 'subconscious in my head'?.. or, alone in my subconscious'...? but, 'subconscious is a jargon term and 'alone'... doesn't that actually say what's happening, and 'head', isn't that the conceit of the poem, that it can't be anywhere else but in the head?
— bmikebauer
the conceit is in the title
— unknown
RGB in your head
— unknown
you are a monitor
— unknown
oh, sorry-- I was tacking my post on the end of Webs.
'alone in my subconscious'
— mandolyn
ah! that makes sense. but, jk doesn't read for the cadence of poetry, only the feelings he gets to feel by reading shadows in the dark. he's always on his own mission.
— bmikebauer
this is pretty para-graphy, trochee... the poem-rhythms don't gel.
you're using 'in my head' as a tolling bell...?
i'd clip this, and get tighter into the words... you're using prose-grammar to say things, when you could be using poetry grammar to create the space you have and watch your feelings turn into emotions.
probably, the head of fourteen rings in 15's in my head, like calling for a servant. the phrase itself needs to be free of the poem. maybe, even, "from a cold-dead, in my head, friday... then i see you alone, standing out in the garden, in my head. then i see you standing alone in my head, below the tree of life, green to the eyes, red in my mouth, blue in my head."
— bmikebauer
RGB?!? monitor!!!! :D
thanks guys. appreciated.
i am writing after a long time.
— trochee
yes yes.
need to tighten this a bit.
— trochee
i agree with web-- over use of the word 'head'
i have given crits before on stuff like this. it's not just me following his lead.
— mandolyn
the head thing, if you look at this as a poem, and not an essay, is the bass-line carrying this poem from beginning to ending.
the thing with a poem is that it sings to you -- it's not a fact-blurt or a comedy-quip: it's an enchanting song. trochee is hearing this, but it's not worked out completely yet. to say that he's overusing 'in my head' is to not read the poem out-loud and try to find the poem he wanted to make. it's possible that neither you nor jk really are able to let go into a poem, to let it carry you out of your name and identity, but that's exactly all and only what a poem does. if you want smart-bites, switch to CNN.
i'm ashamed of you guys. there's poetry in this, and it's structured around 'in the head'. the rest is just imaging to contrast against this image. you might want to read t.s. eliot. he's a pretentious dumbo, but sometimes his american jazz reality sings though the abbey crap.
— bmikebauer
I like the dAnG poem bauer!
(maybe i should of said that)
The first stanza is absolutely wonderfu-- 'ants crawl as i linger on the sound of you" --wonderful use of words.
16-21 is also freakin awesome. 'green to the eyes tastes red in my mouth and feels blue in my head'
I see the author made some edits.
— mandolyn
p.s bauer, i am ashamed of YOU for being ashamed of US. :P
— mandolyn
thank you people ;)
— trochee
um...i think that all of the "in my head"s are not only important to the poem, but pretty much are the poem. cut any one of them and you've got a crippled thing, i think.
for, "in my head," is where submissions are being taken, where the dog is maneuvering a chiken leg, where the cold, dead friday lives, where colors are possessed of taste and smells and texture. it's important to mantra-ize the phrase: it brings song to the poem.
thought: have you tried fleshing out the narrator's head, trochee? manicured? manic? napoleon's?
just a thought
— pittsburgh
^didn't mean to shout through my whole post
— pittsburgh
Nice work. Love the final stanza and the color references.
— sybarite
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