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Rising Tide

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  #1  
Old 03-13-2007, 05:51 AM
gary_wagner
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Default Rising Tide


Your new rules and constraints
hog-tie my legs,
anchor me to the underwater rocks.

Your fear and fragility
handcuff my hands
behind my back
lest I grab you;
shake some sense into
your paranoid illusive fantasy.

Iím on my tiptoes,
coughing and sputtering
on bitter saltwater;
rising tide of your despair.

I watch, choking and helpless,
you sit among the washed-up skeletal
remains of a large dead fish,
eyes closed,
weeping;
knife buried at your side in the sand,
out of sight but within surrendered reach
of desperate scrabbling fingers.

Please, please ó
Iím not you.
I donít want to die.

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  #2  
Old 03-13-2007, 11:52 AM
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Hi gary_wagner. I have to say congradulations on a good poem! I really enjoyed this poem; the style, thought, after thought, all wonderful!
I truely don't see any faults in this poem. This is not my style of writing though, so there may be a few structural errors that may be addressed by other members.
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  #3  
Old 03-13-2007, 12:11 PM
gary_wagner
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Thanks, love2write. You can simply call me Gary in the future, if you like. I try to mix things up so I don't have any one style that could be considered mine. Freeform like this is probably my most common format. It leaves a whole lot of flexibility, which I take full advantage of. My biggest problem is still my line breaks, but I'll keep working on those.
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Old 03-13-2007, 02:05 PM
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Your style continues to evolve, Gary, whew!

The two places that are at all awkward are in this verse:

I watch, choking and helpless,
you sit among the washed-up skeletal
remains of a large dead fish,
eyes closed,
weeping;
knife buried at your side in the sand,
out of sight but within surrendered reach
of desperate scrabbling fingers.

You might consider flipping the first line around a bit and then some other word for "large" which is so undescriptive compared to the rest of the poem.

Choking, helpless, I watch
you sit among the washed-up skeletal
remains of a large dead fish,
eyes closed,
weeping;
knife buried at your side in the sand,
out of sight but within surrendered reach
of desperate scrabbling fingers.


Excellent work!
Kit
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Riverstones let the water flow around them.

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Old 03-14-2007, 04:53 AM
gary_wagner
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Thanks, Kit. I will be editting this soon and will address the issues you brought up.
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  #6  
Old 03-14-2007, 07:15 AM
gary_wagner
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Here is a stab at an edit. The poem got darker but that may reflect a different mood during the edit. I also cleaned up some of the other areas.


Her new rules and constraints
hog-tie my legs,
anchor me to underwater rocks.

Her fear and fragility
handcuff my hands
behind my back
lest I grab her;
shake some sense into
her paranoid illusive fantasy.

I’m on tiptoes,
coughing and sputtering
on rising bitter saltwater.

Ensnared,
choking, and powerless
I can only watch from the distance
she has proscribed.

She sits among the washed-up skeletal
remains of a once mighty fish,
blind, deaf, consumed -
knife in her right hand,
pills in her left
desperation and indecision
leaks from her eyes.

If there be any mercy left in this world,
the sea will take my life
before she takes hers.
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  #7  
Old 03-14-2007, 09:36 AM
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Wow, Gary!

At first, when I saw the change to she, I thought the poem would lose something, but I was worng. It is so much more personal now. The impact of the poem is incredibly strong - amazing.

Kit
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If I did not tell you all the changes you might consider, I would be doing you a disservice, treating you with less than the full respect you deserve. This much I have learned from my years teaching and mentoring writers.

Riverstones let the water flow around them.

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Old 03-14-2007, 09:48 AM
gary_wagner
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Thanks, Kit. I didn't like the accusatory tone of second person so I went with third. I think it worked too. But, this isn't really third person is it? It's still first person so I'm not sure what to call the change I made.
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Old 03-14-2007, 10:13 AM
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You know, I have no idea but if I see one of the English teachers at school today, I will ask. I am sure the Brits on wb know. The poem is still first person but how one refers to the object I don't know.
Kit
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If I did not tell you all the changes you might consider, I would be doing you a disservice, treating you with less than the full respect you deserve. This much I have learned from my years teaching and mentoring writers.

Riverstones let the water flow around them.

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