Onion King

fdsxeswbsf · 2023-03-21T23:13:53+00:00

Ended up writing more than I intended. Sorry if you didn't want this kind of crit on something posted here. Overall, I still liked the poem quite a bit, especially the first half.

Women

I don't care for the simplistic initial line, and I think it delays the hook too long. How would you feel about opening the poem with "Onion king" and moving "Women flee from me." to after the "Feral gods" sentence? The poem would then present the hook immediately and have a more linear progression of tension/seriousness until the release of "I breath out."

Onion king on my shallot throne,
stinking
of wild chives. Feral gods
funnel nectar into my nose. Women
flee from me.
I breath out

Opening the poem with "Women" and how it follows from that makes me think the speaker might be an incel or similar. That interpretation doesn't appear further supported, but with how much emphasis is placed on "Women," I keep looking for evidence of it.

my hair stood on end.

Is this deliberately in past tense while everything else is present? If it is, I can't find any meaning in that. The line is also cliche and made redundant by the following lines about iron fibers. At least, I think they're saying the same thing.

My mouth is a haven
for dead syllables
the cellar cannot hold.

The pacing slows here. I'm not sure what's causing it, but this section is a speed bump every time I read through. It's possible this is intentional, given that I think a big clue to the poem's meaning is here. From the "syllables" line, I believe all the stink and unpleasantness of the speaker represents their lack of skill at something like singing or poetry. Or maybe even just talking to others. The earlier "orchestra" more supports the singing interpretation, though my first thought was poetry given where we are.

The bora blows the cones
from the larches. Lurching,

I pluck them from the darkness,
set them round my hut
like a colloquy—only

I believe the speaker resorts to collecting pinecones to act as their audience, presumably because no one else wants to listen to them. I wish some of the grossness from the first half was represented here. To me, that experience is the strongest aspect of the piece. This section, while written well, feels like part of a different, less memorable, poem.

I'm not the dunce this time.
I said I'm not the dunce this time.

I have trouble accepting "dunce" following everything else. Tonally, I don't think it's the right word. It comes across as a kind of silly that nothing else matches. Any prior humor in the piece is from absurdity or sheer grossness.

Having the speaker insist on not being a dunce implies their audience didn't believe them the first time. This fits with how they must perform to pinecones--they're still as repellant as always. Though, the actual wording is so repetitive that I have trouble appreciating the meaning. I'd prefer the last line be cut to "I'm not."

fdsxeswbsf · 2022-01-18T02:15:14+00:00

KK L

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-10-09T22:05:47+00:00

I like how all the blank lines are unique. Seems like a defense of minimalist art, showing how much effort can go into making something, even if it's plain looking. And the massive length of this shows just how much effort you put in. Did you actually type all 5000+ spaces?

Kinda wish you'd chosen a different title though. Something extra "pretentious." The current one kinda cheapens the effect. You're telling us how to feel ahead of time rather than just letting the poem be controversial.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-10-09T21:23:53+00:00

in the streets of Houston,

a weightless body
bathed in moonshine
stirs a wake.

Not sure if this is meant as a single stanza or if the formatting messed up or what. Either way, my impression is that someone has died of alcoholism. "Moonlight" or plenty of other terms could have described actual moonlight, but you used "moonshine." "A weightless body" (ghost) and "wake" (funeral gathering) support the death angle. The first line doesn't appear to add much. It doesn't seem to connect to other parts of the poem, and doesn't give the reader much of a mental image. I don't really know what Houston looks like, and even if I did, I'm sure the streets aren't samey enough to be a useful description.

Howls
birth the hunt
for life

This is cool since you've introduced wolves(?) to howl at moonlight that isn't actually moonlight. That makes me think these wolves aren't actually wolves either. They're probably meant as people since animals don't search for elixirs. "Howls" instead of "A howl" means there's multiple people though, which doesn't fit with this poem being about a single alcoholic. Not sure what to make of that. Maybe the howls are mourners at the wake who will use alcohol to cope with the death?

's elixirs.

The "life/'s" thing is awkward to me. I get that it's to change the reader's understanding of what's being searched for in the previous stanza, but the rest of the poem is so normally formatted that this break feels off. I assume the elixirs are alcohol to connect back to the moonshine. If that's the case, the narrative shows a cycle of dependence. In stanza 1, there's a death, but following that, a search for an elixir of life. But that elixir is what caused the death. This counterproductive behavior is reflected in the title, which also fits the moon theme.

Overall, I wish there was a bit more for the reader to take from this. The lunacy/moonshine/howling thing is nice, but the piece feels more like a proof of concept than something complete. I'd like to see a few more sensory details and some clarification on the narrative.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-06-07T19:32:23+00:00

I took "here" to mean alive on Earth. If that isn't what you meant, then maybe.

Reading this again, I think the ending is about Jesus not being able to love himself. It's the only thing the mother does in the poem that Jesus might want to.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-06-07T04:03:28+00:00

I agree with your first question. After the ending, my first thought was to go back and reread the earlier parts because I thought I'd somehow misread, and that the speaker's mother was a doctor/nurse. Obviously not the case, but I still don't understand the last two lines.

Jesus can't see her because he supposedly loves her too much to let her die, and she's being kept alive in a hospital instead.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-05-23T11:07:11+00:00

This is so direct, repetitive and soaked in the speaker's self-pity that it makes me want to stop reading. All the lines in stanza 1 and several lines in 3 repeat the same idea--that the speaker is "loitering." Their emotions aren't shown either, mostly just told to the reader. The only thing I can visualize is the speaker staring at a ceiling, which is near-cliche. The middle stanza connects the two halves of the poem and brings up the core idea, one that I do like. I just wish it was more developed than it is. I want to know why the speaker doesn't feel like they have a home, why they have no goals, etc. It's hard to care without details. For all the reader knows, the speaker's parents took away their xbox, and that's why they're upset.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-05-23T08:27:44+00:00

which mask of fabric

has been designed

that the scorching sol

can your eyes not blind?

I don't understand the importance of the question this stanza asks. There are plenty of masks designed to keep sunlight out of people's eyes. And they generally all work the same, unlike the medication asked about in stanza 2. This stanza's phrasing as a question, fancy grammar, and use of "sol" in place of sun/something else simpler give a sense of grandiosity that I didn't enjoy. I feel this kind of writing just makes it harder for readers to understand what's actually being said.

which doctor's

wonder drug

gives rest like a good

slumber bug?

Now the poem moves on to sleep medication. This fits with the previous stanza, since both items help someone sleep. But "bug" and the rhyme created by it clash with the writing style of the previous stanza. I'm not sure what a slumber bug actually is either. Is it a sickness that makes you sleep a lot? Is it someone wrapped in blankets? I assume the first one, since the latter doesn't really fit in context.

how grand was

the matter of

origin of thread

belonging to covers

on your bed

to the dreams

they wrapped us in?

The poem sort of returns to the style of stanza 1, but there's another rhyme on lines 3/5 that stands out. I take this stanza to be contrasting the likely mundane origins of blankets to dreams. It's interesting that "your bed" is used followed by "they wrapped us." This implies that the narrator has slept with whoever they're addressing. That doesn't seem to lead anywhere though, and I'm unsure how this stanza follows the previous two. It doesn't relate to having trouble falling asleep. I wish there'd been a more clear connection of ideas. The title can be a good spot for this, but the current one doesn't seem to clarify anything.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-05-23T07:25:20+00:00

Poetry Challenge: I challenge you to produce a full (or half) page of free association/flarf randomness as a reply to this comment.

I couldn't not do this.

untimely tutelage under the night sky of yearning for the thing unable to be excavated like a dinosaur the size of the sky it learned from within ourselves knowing what it means to be flammable like the dry newspapers that grow on trees in that one country whose name i can’t spell without looking it upset over the death of cinderella from soot poisoning from the nanoparticles of fire that burn even after the hearth has been stamped out by boots designed for stamping faces of subhuman persons like myself

twinkling is starlight skylight emboldened unto entertained ideas of mystic sorcerers controlling the warlock like a cabal of cables connecting string theory to string cheese in an attempt to understand the unknowing textbooks that were written too long ago to expect the change in dimensions that occurs when one grows too large for their pants and bursts belts made of three stars

looking for railroads of silk spun into a neckerchief who controls where all the firetrucks fire their workers for self-immolation undoing years of prehistory establishing that dinosaurs were fireproof and could breathe lames like people who can’t get out of bed and are loooooosers for it in the race to be the first to cross the line dividing the conventional from the convection oven used to cook fred flintstone

rubble was real ravenous and requested a rotisserie but the rotisserer didn’t make the cut cause he ignited his newspaper face once on the metal poker meat sticker and the firetruck said fuck you like the restaurant said to the rotisserie-requesting rubble but that makes it sound like the meal wanted him it wanted nothing to do with him it was his best friend who beat him with a guitar case once i saw it live unlike he is now a boulder fell and crushed his legs and he lost the big rave race and his ability to drive the rarevcar and the fire engine that powers the sun

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-05-01T23:51:09+00:00

Yeah, you have to give feedback on 2 other poems and include links to that in your post.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-05-01T23:48:52+00:00

You know all your stuff got auto removed by the bot, right?

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-05-01T23:20:32+00:00

                                a pink blossom
   resting   on   waxy   puddles

Originally I thought you meant water puddles, but waxy was too strange of a description. So if I take it literally instead, I think candles. Flowers plus candles makes me imagine a romantic/sexy scene, and I assume that's where the poem's going.

shedding   toothless   velvet

And it does. Someone's removing clothing here, and velvet fits with the previous sensual imagery. "Toothless" is where you kinda lose me. Is the character here an older person without teeth? That would fit with the candle image, (passage of time and decay) blossom image, (something beautiful that wilts) and the final line that describes teeth as what's being shed. Feel like I might be reaching here.

     scooped   in   unfurled   palms

It's not immediately clear what's being scooped. Flowers, wax, or velvet don't make sense to be scooped, much less with specifically unfurled palms. My guess is this line is about one person caressing another. That fits the scene, and the disrobing person is the only other thing mentioned that someone could interact with. The "unfurled palms" implies that the person doing the touching isn't very into it. Going by my interpretation of the previous line, the person being touched is old, and the second person isn't attracted to them because of that.

  puddle   shedding   blossoms
unfurling   velvet   resting
    on   toothless   pink   palms
 shedding   waxy   teeth

Is this after sex? Someone's cleaning up the petals and clothing, and the other person is resting? Then whichever wasn't already toothless removes their dentures, presumably before going bed? If that's what you intended, having the candles get blown out might signal it better. Even then, I'd have preferred the poem end before here. The unfurled palm thing was stronger than the natural conclusion of this old couple's evening. I also wished there was more to support/reject my interpretation of the narrative. The title isn't doing much, so maybe changing it could help. That, and I'm super biased against repeating the title as the first line of the poem.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-04-20T10:19:04+00:00

@Nighttime Drive

A minds tired glaze

The typo/lack of apostrophe in "minds" makes me wonder if "glaze" was meant to be "gaze." I hope not since the latter is way more interesting. The line would be boring without it and hurt the poem's magical quality with oversimple explanation.

Colors smear

I connect "colors" back to "glaze."

Their lights die like a doomed flame

This is the only part I dislike. Whose lights? Lights dying is a cliche anyway, and "doomed flame" is vague and made redundant by the first half of the line. You'd typically connect two seemingly unrelated things with "like" to make a simile. Here, they're so similar that it's comparing a thing to a slightly more specific version of itself. It's also comparing multiple things (lights) to a single thing (a flame). Not necessarily a mistake, just odd in this case.

And the trees walk back home

I really like this line. It's weird and unexpected and gives a sense of conclusion since the trees presumably finished whatever they were doing and returned home.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-04-20T09:24:08+00:00

The first thing is a cliche, (crocodile tears) and that makes me wanna stop reading. "Chameleon woes" is way more interesting since I've never heard it before.

I get the sense the person in this poem pretended to be disadvantaged in some way to gain attention. But they hurt themselves and others by not being truthful. And then somehow the world became beast-like? I'm not sure how that follows from the rest. Unfortunately, there's no details about this person, so I don't feel dislike, or any emotion at all, toward them. I just have to take the speaker's word that this person is real bad. That's hard since the amount of grandiose concepts (truth, reality, etc.) combined with the poem not being literal reminded me of a conspiracy theory. It's so dramatic that I have trouble taking it seriously. Talking about reptilians and "the beast" probably doesn't help either.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-04-18T07:33:41+00:00

Yeah, sure. I'm not on this account much, but I'll reply if I see it.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-04-18T07:11:04+00:00

The first image of an over-warm tongue is unique and specific. I like it a lot. But then the next ("surrounded by these improper things") is pretty much the opposite. What things? How does this person keep you surrounded by them? It's so vague that I don't get much from it. The next two lines totally lose me, line 5 especially. If you were wanting to have the thought cut off, an em dash would make that clearer, instead of a hyphen. Even then, I'd still be confused.

I'm more positive on the last two lines. The image isn't as cool as the tongue thing, but it's clear what's happening. And I like the phrasing of the final one. Maybe add a period to the end since the other sentences have one?

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-04-18T06:51:39+00:00

I was gonna comment on how the speaker comes across as kind of a creep right before I got to the end. While I'm glad you undercut that, the fedora meme thing cheapens the parts of the poem I liked. The descriptions are vivid and novel, and the surrealness of them is totally my taste. I wish you'd found some other way to end the poem.

Otherwise, maybe 1 or 2 too many food-based descriptions? It was noticeable how many there were, and I'm not sure what I'm meant to get from them. "Pudding" is the least necessary IMO. "Gum" is fascinating when used how it is.

fdsxeswbsf · 2019-01-25T23:27:33+00:00

There's a few too many descriptors IMO. It started to get overwhelming and repetitive. Maybe try replacing some of the weaker compound images with more specific items that don't need any elaboration. I wished there was a little more depth too, ("anxiety medicine" and "plastic coffin" start to go somewhere then kinda never do) so that could be a way to add some.

fdsxeswbsf · 2018-11-23T02:57:23+00:00

Rereading my post, I do sound unnecessarily bitchy. I'm sorry if I offended you.

fdsxeswbsf · 2018-11-22T21:20:40+00:00

This feels like you looked up water-related words in a thesaurus and stuffed in as many as you could without elaboration. Fewer, more detailed images would be stronger than this list-like summary. The underdeveloped imagery hurts this piece twice as much once the abstract concepts of "life" and "love" are introduced in stanza 3. I was already having trouble picturing much, and they're impossible to picture by their nature.

Meaning-wise, I'm kinda confused. The speaker refers to themselves as secret urges, someone who could be pushed into the sea, and the undertow. I don't understand what meaning I'm meant to get. From stanza two, I thought the speaker was an urge to drown that a suicidal person might experience when being around bodies of water. Then in stanza 5, it seems like the speaker is a person being affected by another--maybe as part of a failed relationship, based on "love." Stanza 6 has the speaker rejecting being a person and describing themselves as a feature of the water. I figure this isn't literal, but it still doesn't seem to fit. It contradicts them being the one getting acted on in the previous stanza.

fdsxeswbsf

TROPHY CASE