Interact 6 - WickedEve says

[twelveoone]

It gives me a great degree (Celsius, measured in 25 degree increments) to introduce WickedEve.
She may be one of the nicest people around these parts, consistently offering good suggestions to new writers. I admire her for that, I admire her for her words, her poetry.
I confess, I skim when I read, something must catch my eye, the places I look, are the beginning, the end, and then somewhere in the middle. I must see something happening, before I go back to it.
I may have left more comments on Eve's poetry, than anyone else's, because my eyes where caught. As an example: from bob bob boys room, first line" through disturbed halls," - okay, title alone should draw you in, first line, well you want to know more...and she does not often disappoint, coming up with lines like "juice jockey knows/ this one is glimpse only." Well, that one sat with me for awhile, not quite as long the infamous "pine...", which still haunts me. WickedEve may be the strongest line writer in this place.
But, strong lines alone do not make a poem, I refer you to Interact 4, Angeline had mentioned "off-notes", and I believe there was some discussion about how words resonate with the others. It's worth a minute to go find it, before I pull this little gem apart. I am not going to use the technical terms for this analysis, but
just try to show what she has done.
Starting line by line.

After The Fall - "Fall" has to be the easiest word in english to play with
by WickedEve ©

Against shutters and pane, - does not look like a good line, note word "pane", "shutters"
she drifts through. -looks like toss away line, filler, note "she", "drifts"
Inside, warmth is winter. - nice, very nice - strong line

Memories drive in procession.- not bad, note position of line, what line is next?
Lights dim in the white. - here is the strongest line

A tree bare and gnarled, - close to cliche, note next word
wrist juts from the earth, - disturbing image, note word "wrist"
fingers crippled in cold, - looks like toss away, filler
grasping ghosts. - here is the second strongest line, note word "grasping"

Note: neither the title, nor the first line, are very strong, but her two strongest lines are at the center and the end.

"Lights dim in the white" - very nice contrasting image, by the time we reach it we know it is winter, "drifts"
and it is "after the Fall". "...drive in procession." in front of it, evocative isn't it? You see it.

"grasping ghosts" - grasping is such a good word, one thinks of a hand grasping, grasping for air. Work
your way back, fingers, wrist, what is doing the grasping, a tree? The tree grasping air? Ghosts? Ghosts
of what, preceding words "memories", "shutters and pane" sounds like "shudders and pain". Again it is
"after the 'Fall'" very strong emotional evocation here.

First three lines, it is unclear what "she drifts" refers to, does it have to be? It is nice to know that
inside is warm, and perhaps "she" is doing alright, despite what is implied around.

"wrist" - this is a much better word choice than "hand", hands juting from the earth - b-grade, "wrist"
sounds like? A hand is also an end, wrist is "between".Memories still drive by. Hand sounds better with "bare",
but that is the weakest line. Wrist sounds better with "grasp" one of the stronger lines.

If one looks at this line by line, in a nine line poem, four of the lines are weak, four strong, nice balance, weak lines
are tied in nicely. All resonate nicely. No "off-notes", very strong poem. One of my favourites.

It is here if you wish to vote on it.

english.literotica.com:81/stories/showstory.php?id=148653

For Discussion
Tatto Animal
http://english.literotica.com:81/stories/showstory.php?id=138649

 

[twelveoone]

Tattoo Animal
by WickedEve ©

She is henna and bare,
fluid along the palm,
subdued in tiger skin.

He pauses, breathless
for stripes to arch beneath him.

 

[twelveoone]

and for comparision to "After the Fall"
http://english.literotica.com:81/stories/showstory.php?id=121435

Dead Of Winter
by WickedEve ©

Snow seems temperate
on fur downed swiftly into slumber.
I nudge with cold footfall,
though steps are hushed to restful beasts.

Bundled in scarf and bitter wind,
I drift along the path.
A glance back, rose cast yawns
sleep their frigid echoes.

 

[twelveoone]

Eve,
In either of these is there anything you would change?

 

[Angeline]

I'm really glad you're featuring Eve's poetry in this thread, 1201. I have always been really impressed with her particular brand of poetic talent and not just because she is versatile. True she can write all kinds of poetry, from long narrative pieces to beautiful form poems, but what I love most of hers are the short quirky pieces. She has a knack for saying volumes in very few words in those, something that I think is very difficult. The only other writer here I've ever seen do that in a similar way was smithpeter, and I came to believe he got that from her--I know he loved the way she writes.

I'm looking forward to seeing more of Eve's stuff here and reading her responses to your questions. Thanks again for this thread--it's illuminating to learn how we each approach our various styles.

 

[twelveoone]

pulled from the other thread -
This woman, I always knew was good, I had no realization of how good she is, until I pulled "After the Fall" apart. A little classic, excellent learning tool.

Eve, Dead of Winter was your choice, After the Fall, mine.
What are you seeing in Dead of Winter, that I am perhaps missing?

 

[WickedEve]

Eve,
In either of these is there anything you would change?

Tattoo Animal and Dead of Winter are both so brief that I probably wouldn't change much about them. Though, now that I'm reading them again, I think I'd cut out a few more words.

She is henna and bare,
fluid along the palm,
subdued in tiger skin.

He pauses, breathless
for stripes to arch beneath him.

I'd change the above version to this:

Henna and bare,
fluid along palms,
subdued in tiger skin.

He pauses, breathless
for stripes to arch beneath him.
(I may even be tempted to drop "him")

Every so many months, my poetry changes slightly and grows. I could go back 4 or 5 months and easily edit some of those earlier poems. The poems from a year and two years ago has obvious spots that need editing. I think the tattoo poem is from this year, but I already see where I used unnecessary words.


Dead Of Winter
by WickedEve ©

Snow seems temperate
on fur downed swiftly into slumber.
I nudge with cold footfall,
though steps are hushed to restful beasts.

Bundled in scarf and bitter wind,
I drift along the path.
A glance back, rose cast yawns
sleep their frigid echoes.

I think the first line in the second stanza bothers me a little. Maybe it's the word bundled. And I'd like to change the second line, perhaps. But basically, I'm okay with this poem. I think this one is from earlier in the year. I can't remember now.

The first one you discussed is After The Fall. I'm sure that one needs editing. I'll take a look at it and see if there are any changes I'd make.

And congrats on the E, Mr. 12.

 

[WickedEve]

Eve, Dead of Winter was your choice, After the Fall, mine.
What are you seeing in Dead of Winter, that I am perhaps missing?

Dead of Winter is one my favorites. Maybe the images of that day are stronger than the words I wrote.

Snow seems temperate
on fur downed swiftly into slumber.
I nudge with cold footfall,
though steps are hushed to restful beasts.

I was walking in the snowy woods, and I saw a dead rabbit. It's fur still soft. It seemed alive under the few snow flakes that had started to cling to it. I could only disturb it (if I could disturb it at all) with my footsteps--only nudge it the way you'd nudge a sleeping child. That's what I remember, and I truly love that first stanza.

Bundled in scarf and bitter wind,
I drift along the path.
A glance back, rose cast yawns
sleep their frigid echoes.

I remember now that the wind was blowing hard, and I was hanging on to my scarf, so that's why I drifted back up the path--the way snow drifts. That's why I used drift in that line. As you can see, I'm talking about what inspired the poem in hopes of remembering why I wrote it the way I did. And I did glance back. The rose cast yawn was the blood around its open (yawning) mouth. In this poem I say "their" because I decided to create an image of more than one dead animal. There's sleep, slumber, restful, yawn. And drift could also be like in drift off to sleep. I remember that open mouth seemed to have the sounds frozen in it. That's why I used "frigid echoes."

 

[twelveoone]

that's 1201 - thank you, funny I didn't see a WickedEve comment on it, too brief?

Because I got his up so late, I forgot to ask, how do you write? From the above comment, I would guess both where longer and then editted down.

 

[WickedEve]

that's 1201 - thank you, funny I didn't see a WickedEve comment on it, too brief?

Because I got his up so late, I forgot to ask, how do you write? From the above comment, I would guess both where longer and then editted down.

Comment on your new poem? No, I haven't. I need to read the entire poem, first. I've peeked at parts of it. It has a scary format and I need to slowly sneak up on it and read it. Then I'll comment.

How do I write? Remember the poetry trance? When I wrote the NeoPetal series, I was in one of those. I have no idea what happened. I'm serious. Oh, I think it's like automatic writing, where a ghost takes over and uses your hand, or in my case, the ghost used my fingers on the keyboard. That's one way I write poetry.

And yes, many of my poems are much longer. I cut them to the bone. To a degree, I'm a perfectionist. So, I keep cutting until I get rid of the bad flesh and have nothing left by shiny, white bones of a poem. Oh, isn't that gruesome?

Speaking of gruesome, I've been know to do a Dr. Frankenstein number on my poetry. I piece together bits and pieces of discarded poems and create a new poem. A poem that lives!

Seriously, back to the cutting to the bone way of writing. I think it's important to take a poem and put it aside for a spell. Then reread it. That's the best way to edit. Pay close attention to each word. Make each word count. Get rid of the fat and keep the lean, clean poetry. I'm the Jack Sprat of poetry.

 

[twelveoone]

Comment on your new poem? No, I haven't. I need to read the entire poem, first. I've peeked at parts of it. It has a scary format and I need to slowly sneak up on it and read it. Then I'll comment.

How do I write? Remember the poetry trance? When I wrote the NeoPetal series, I was in one of those. I have no idea what happened. I'm serious. Oh, I think it's like automatic writing, where a ghost takes over and uses your hand, or in my case, the ghost used my fingers on the keyboard. That's one way I write poetry.

And yes, many of my poems are much longer. I cut them to the bone. To a degree, I'm a perfectionist. So, I keep cutting until I get rid of the bad flesh and have nothing left by shiny, white bones of a poem. Oh, isn't that gruesome?

Speaking of gruesome, I've been know to do a Dr. Frankenstein number on my poetry. I piece together bits and pieces of discarded poems and create a new poem. A poem that lives!

Seriously, back to the cutting to the bone way of writing. I think it's important to take a poem and put it aside for a spell. Then reread it. That's the best way to edit. Pay close attention to each word. Make each word count. Get rid of the fat and keep the lean, clean poetry. I'm the Jack Sprat of poetry.

Promise? "I listen to your xyster's song" (how cheap of me)
You know what I think of the NeoPetal series, Damn, I walked around with it, for weeks.
"Pay close attention to each word. Make each word count"
What did you think of my deconstruction of after the fall? It looked to me you did a fantastic job of making every word count, yes, I admire you even more.

 

[WickedEve]

Promise? "I listen to your xyster's song" (how cheap of me)
You know what I think of the NeoPetal series, Damn, I walked around with it, for weeks.
"Pay close attention to each word. Make each word count"
What did you think of my deconstruction of after the fall? It looked to me you did a fantastic job of making every word count, yes, I admire you even more.

Good morning. I only a few minutes before I have leave, but when I get back later today, I'll definitely comment on your deconstruction of the poem. And then I'll read the E poem.
By the way, I want to thank you for this thread. As I told you in an email, I was interested in doing this because I hope something I've written or some of my comments may be of use to another poet.

 

[Maria2394]

I was interested in doing this because I hope something I've written or some of my comments may be of use to another poet.

When I read After the Fall and Dead of Winter, I wrote apoem called 28. Its not on here anymore and i dont even have a copy, lost the disc...but Eve, it was my first H

Something inside me was born, or came alive, when I read your two poems, something pulled away from inside me, like a second skin, or something that I had held on to, selfishly and tightly, and you coaxed it out, or allowed me to see it was okay to let it out, whatever happened, I just know it was after reading you..thank you

 

[sandspike]

Eve Rocks

If I didn't have balls I would want to be like Eve. She
knocks it out a in Tina or Janis way that has energy and
soul and a good edit before posting. I love the poems you
mentioned at the start of this thread, they are they are full
of a real life. The heat and the cold the extremes.

 

[WickedEve]

Promise? "I listen to your xyster's song" (how cheap of me)
You know what I think of the NeoPetal series, Damn, I walked around with it, for weeks.
"Pay close attention to each word. Make each word count"
What did you think of my deconstruction of after the fall? It looked to me you did a fantastic job of making every word count, yes, I admire you even more.

I left a moronic PC and 5 vote on your poem that (damn it!) is forcing me to read it again and again until I figure it all out!!!

 

[WickedEve]

When I read After the Fall and Dead of Winter, I wrote apoem called 28. Its not on here anymore and i dont even have a copy, lost the disc...but Eve, it was my first H

Something inside me was born, or came alive, when I read your two poems, something pulled away from inside me, like a second skin, or something that I had held on to, selfishly and tightly, and you coaxed it out, or allowed me to see it was okay to let it out, whatever happened, I just know it was after reading you..thank you

Well, since your poetry doesn't suck, this is a cool compliment.

 

[WickedEve]

Re: Eve Rocks

If I didn't have balls I would want to be like Eve.

And if I didn't have a great rack, I'd want to be like sandspike.
By the way, thanks for the comments on my poetry.

 

[WickedEve]

Against shutters and pane, - does not look like a good line, note word "pane", "shutters"
Why doesn't it look like a good line? Shutters and pane. Shudders and pain. Well, it's okay.

she drifts through. -looks like toss away line, filler, note "she", "drifts"
I agree--filler.

Inside, warmth is winter. - nice, very nice - strong line
A woman was peering through the window, looking inside. Snow is all around her. She was so small and her hair white. I thought she could have been a ghost. Inside, where it was warm, was now winter/cold to her. She could no longer be part of that warmth. That's where the line came from. Yes, that's one of the stronger lines in the poem.

Memories drive in procession.- not bad, note position of line, what line is next?
Lights dim in the white. - here is the strongest line
Let's see... there was a car driving by and then down the road and I thought about a funeral procession, which became a procession for memories.
Lights dim in the white. They literally did. But it means more than that. I knew at the time when I wrote it. And again, I agree that this is another strong line compared to the one above it.

A tree bare and gnarled, - close to cliché, note next word
You're causing me to shutter in pane here. lol I had a brush with a cliché.

wrist juts from the earth, - disturbing image, note word "wrist"
Wrist=tree trunk

fingers crippled in cold, - looks like toss away, filler
Now, I'm feeling the need for a rewrite.

grasping ghosts. - here is the second strongest line, note word "grasping"
There's a lot of meaning in this line. It wraps up the poem satisfactorily?

Note: neither the title, nor the first line, are very strong, but her two strongest lines are at the center and the end.
Oh, now I remember. There's a play on words in the title. Fall=autumn and Fall=accident. That's why we have a ghost--one paying a final visit.

"Lights dim in the white" - very nice contrasting image, by the time we reach it we know it is winter, "drifts"
and it is "after the Fall". "...drive in procession." in front of it, evocative isn't it? You see it.

"grasping ghosts" - grasping is such a good word, one thinks of a hand grasping, grasping for air. Work
your way back, fingers, wrist, what is doing the grasping, a tree? The tree grasping air? Ghosts? Ghosts
of what, preceding words "memories", "shutters and pane" sounds like "shudders and pain". Again it is
"after the 'Fall'" very strong emotional evocation here.
I imagined that dead tree reaching out and grasping at her, grasping at ghosts. Hmm... dead grasping at dead.

First three lines, it is unclear what "she drifts" refers to, does it have to be? It is nice to know that
inside is warm, and perhaps "she" is doing alright, despite what is implied around.
I think she was just drifting through, kind of a visit, maybe only her memories of before. She drifted. That seems light and soft. She's sad and she's gone and she's no longer rampaging, skipping or running anywhere.

"wrist" - this is a much better word choice than "hand", hands jutting from the earth - b-grade, "wrist"
sounds like? A hand is also an end, wrist is "between".Memories still drive by. Hand sounds better with "bare",
but that is the weakest line. Wrist sounds better with "grasp" one of the stronger lines.
I remember going with wrist because of the tree trunk and the dead limbs--wrist, hand, fingers.

If one looks at this line by line, in a nine line poem, four of the lines are weak, four strong, nice balance, weak lines
are tied in nicely. All resonate nicely. No "off-notes", very strong poem. One of my favourites.
I like this poem, but it could be improved.

 

[flyguy69]

Re: Re: Eve Rocks

And if I didn't have a great rack, I'd want to be like sandspike.
By the way, thanks for the comments on my poetry.

A great and healthy rack, we know, now that October is done.

Match Strike is one of my favorite poems on this site. There is such ferocity in so few lines; each word collects like venom at the tip of her pen, hangs there gathering strength, then drips with a hiss into the poem. A truely remarkable poem. And Coffee Maker, well, should come with a "hot liquid" warning.

Now, about your navel...

 

[sandspike]

Thanks flyguy

"Coffee Maker" I loved that one. It's like Sat. morn. at my house.
Well, a couple times a month away . You mentioned Eve's
navel, are there any great navel poems. You know where a guy
can take a lick and sweeten his coffee.

 

[WickedEve]

Re: Re: Re: Eve Rocks

A great and healthy rack, we know, now that October is done.

Match Strike is one of my favorite poems on this site. There is such ferocity in so few lines; each word collects like venom at the tip of her pen, hangs there gathering strength, then drips with a hiss into the poem. A truely remarkable poem. And Coffee Maker, well, should come with a "hot liquid" warning.

Now, about your navel...

I couldn't remember what match strike was about until I clicked the link. That was written during some emotional hysteria of mine. I glad you like it. I think my NeoPetal poems are some of my favorites and bob Finds Love II and Backdoor Folk. A lot of my poems need more editing. You know how it is. You write a poem and a year or two later you can see all the mistakes. ick...

 

[flyguy69]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Eve Rocks

I couldn't remember what match strike was about until I clicked the link. That was written during some emotional hysteria of mine. I glad you like it. I think my NeoPetal poems are some of my favorites and bob Finds Love II and Backdoor Folk. A lot of my poems need more editing. You know how it is. You write a poem and a year or two later you can see all the mistakes. ick...

No, I don't. I wrote my first poem in March, and it is perfect in every regard. What I am really hoping is that in a year or two I might begin to understand yours. I am currently trying to read the neopetal series upside down, suspended by my tail.

 

[WickedEve]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Eve Rocks

No, I don't. I wrote my first poem in March, and it is perfect in every regard. What I am really hoping is that in a year or two I might begin to understand yours. I am currently trying to read the neopetal series upside down, suspended by my tail.

If you understand neopetal, then tell me about it. I no longer get it. I told Mr. 12 that I was in a poetry trance when I wrote it. You know, I never did "end" that poem. I feel a trance coming on... part 7, maybe part 8. Personally, I feel that my neo poems are brilliant, which makes me worry that I'm an idiot savant.

 

[twelveoone]

Re: After the Fall

I guess everything could be improved, but the point I was trying to make, is that if they where all strong lines, it would lose something more important, the essense of the poem, it would be overpowering, instead of that feeling that it evokes.

Can I ask who do you read, what are your favourites, and why?

 

[WickedEve]

Re: Re: After the Fall

I guess everything could be improved, but the point I was trying to make, is that if they where all strong lines, it would lose something more important, the essense of the poem, it would be overpowering, instead of that feeling that it evokes.

Can I ask who do you read, what are your favourites, and why?

As I teen and young adult, I mostly read poe, byron, lovelace... I read Shakespeare and Chaucer and Greek Mythology. Poetry from my much earlier days had hints of greek mythology. Let's see... and Tennyson. Remember dust colony: "gone are the poes and tennysons." I have several antique poetry books, so I read a lot of the classical poets. And now, I don't read much. I'm discovering a lot of the poets that Ange goes on and on about. Sadly, compared to many of the poets here, I'm not very well read when it comes to poetry. I think it's because of a lack of time more than a lack of desire. Oh, I almost forget Prince. I was totally into Prince in the 80s. I was fascinated by his lyrics.

As far as favorite poem or poets, I think byron is interesting and shelley. I always liked to Althea from Prison by lovelace and Charge of the light Brigade by tennyson. Oh, and I love Laurence Hope's Kashmiri Song. This had a huge influence on me.

Pale hands I loved beside the Shalimar,
Where are you now? Who lies beneath your spell?
Whom do you lead on rapture's roadway far,
Before you agonise them in farewell?

Oh, pale dispensers of my Joys and Pains,
Holding the doors of Heaven and Hell,
How the hot blood rushed wildly through the veins,
Beneath your touch, until you waved farewell.

Pale hands, pink tipped, like Lotus buds that float
On those cool waters where we used to dwell,
I would have rather felt you round my throat,
Crushing out life, than waving me farewell.

Love those last two lines and now reading them again... Here are a few lines from my match strike:

Allow me one breath to ache,
then pass me a gentle pen,
...
I will pain paper in beauty,
...

I believe, in a way, you can see some of the influence in that poem.

Now, back to Prince and his poetry. His song lyrics were always interesting and many times he mentioned the mix of sex and religion in his songs. No wonder his music attracted me. Religion (a twisted southern religion) has had a big influence on my life and poetry. Sex, well, I'm a sexual creature. Actually, I'm fascinated by it, often amused by it. I wrote an erotic story about 5 years back about Eve, Satan, the garden and sex. Best thing I ever wrote, because that's where I got my Wicked Eve name and that's how I met my Master. Then in my earlier years at lit, I wrote a poem that had much to do with sex and religion. It's not online now. It's buried somewhere. I'll have to dig it up.


excerpt from To Althea From Prison
When love with unconfined wings
Hovers within my gates,
And my divine Althea brings
To whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair,
And fettered to her eye,
The birds that wanton in the air
Know no such liberty.