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the midget of humiliation (Free verse) by Bill Z Bub Out by the strangletrees
in the demonic summer,
that's where I lost you.
Can't wait for the air to change
and I can wear my navy pea coat
and hide my stool-pigeon mouth
behind wool
and steal another quick
heartbeat
until it melts
with the snow.
I know
I've got one season
to believe in
when the air is cracked dry
like your lips
and I can read your breath
on the updraft.
Maybe
when the curse of the summer
is over.
I could go to some
cerulean island
where shame punctures
this skin
to let the stinging sea in.
Up the ladder:
Meditation 02
Down the ladder:
The Corte de Bleu
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 5.6666665
Posted: January 15, 2003 6:36 PM PST; Last modified: August 17, 2003 3:17 PM PDTWeighted score: 5.0794687 Overall Rank: 6376 Comments:
Ah, ya bastard. You sit down, braindead and write very fast and this comes out. I've spent fucking weeks on a poem and it's still bollocks. Grr.
10. Much respect for you poetry.
Beg pardon, I meant your poetry. Stupid keyboard.
Well, yeah, I'm a genius, but I must admit one or two lines were orphans from old poems that needed a new home.
I very much enjoyed the title and the first four lines. I did not enjoy the rest.
Try this on for size. Okay, so it's really two separate poems squashed together. So What! I don't need your attitude mister! And furthermore, this poem was chosen to be published in "Butt Lust" magazine! So there!
Get rid of 'at least I know...' Get rid of the midget, he got you going but doesn't fit in with this educated crowd of words. the poem starts at stanza 3-'Out by...' the last 3 lines are really wonderful. You need to concentrate between 'updraft...I had to take the train' .
I like the midget. keep him. and the rest too.
Nice images, but strikes me as a personal remembrance, or at least one I don't have personal context for.
I like the edit except for st. 6. I gave you a ten last time and stanza 3 more than equals that.
help me I'm shrinking
I'm shrinking away inking away shrinking inking away shrinkinink.
My, how you've grown!
Whoever just voted, please do so again, as I had one small edit to make. All done now.
Nice little stunt you pulled, tearing up the town....you and your Eleanor.
I guess I need to buy some lifts, 'cause that went right over my head. Eleanor?
Yes, then. A nice hydraulic lift maybe?
Lucy, you have some 'splaining to do!
One of the last lines from "gone in 60 seconds". I guess this isn't the crowd for those type of shenanigans eh?
Well, it's a bit obscure compared to Star Wars, bud.
I like the word "shenanigan". It sounds Irish.
'tis. I'm all of 25% Irish. woo hoo.
I'm crashin'. Gotta move some cheap ass Kia product tomorrow. Maybe by that time I'll have written something worth ranking. Me?
HA!
You are too critical to yourself, most of your poems are miles better than anything that I can manage-not that that's saying anything, but still.
Hey Bill, I like the content but it didn't seem right reading with all the breaks-it's just my opinion but I think it needs to be more together...other than, it rocks!
Must....find....time...to...digest!
Where the hell have you been? I suffer through one more trial and no Lucifer to tempt me with his light. Lovely poem. 'Pea coat, stool-pigeon, cracked lips...' This poem is speaking to my twisted-up guts.
Last stanza, second line 'punctures this skin' try it, you'll like it.
Hey gw! Thankyou a thousand times for your comments. A mild approval from you is precious to me, like tears of diamond that streak down my cheeks whilst eating "Death Rain" potato chips (Habanero flavour! xxxxx!) and reading a letter from my very first love, who I talked to on the phone again just this week. Oh where has the time gone, it has swirled away, but she's never changing, crystalline, her fragile defiance spears my abdomen with perfect playfulness.
Was there ever someone who brought you the greatest joy and the deepest despair simultaneously? Can this truly be that which is called "love"? Or is it merely my masochist mind? ..."this skin"..."this skin"... hmm. yes. Where have I been? I've been busy surviving, working, searching, cleaning, being audited, trying to organize things in my new apartment, etc... the list is never ending, like the suffering of the world. And my computer crashed 3 times while trying to get onto Poemranker. Gah. "blow wind blow, wherever you may go, put on your overcoat and take me away, c'mon and take me on into the night, take me on into the night, blow me away..."
You have the beginnings of a sublime work let down only by an inconclusive ending. Now my dear boy try and focus on the ending, irony would fit like a golf glove. For example you detail most beautifully 'nature' and the representation of where you lost her (S1). What you need to do is carry that on taking that beauty then ending it most cruelly with the decadence of human nature. This needs to end in a crescendo of your sufferance, I feel one owes it to ones self to strive for perfection here as this metabolic potential to be a poets poem and that Sire if you are prepared to work on the end, would be a rare endorsement from myself...8
Lose the title also, it ruins the whole shabang.
Hows about just ... "humility". what wouldja think o'that, Mr Pig?
"mra eht ma I" -Little Man from Another Place
Golden Q Tip. 10. Superb Edit.
Second stanza gave me a heart murmur.
lots of imagery
If i have one criticism it is the careless use of words such as demonic. I need luring in a bit more
I'm glad to have to vote again. If I'm reading this right, it is positioned as a reversal of events.
I like your imagery. I like how it appeals to several of the senses.
put it asll together, tighter. again, get rid of the extra baggage. say what you mean, and less.
369 view(s)
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your last stanza feels incomplete (though beautiful) to me.