Topic ID: 30085
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 Posted: Sun May 11, 2008 9:42 pm Post subject: Holmes |
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Holme’s Last Resort
I couldn’t help but smile at the sight,
for what a sight it was.
His twitching eyes
his bulging veins.
Sherlock Holmes,
champion of reason,
master of observation,
humbled.
Forced to rely on that which he so disdained,
and from a child no less.
“Here.”
He tossed the flowing dark
object at me contemptuously.
Ignoring his skeptical stare, I closed my hands around
the grainy cloth.
The man vanished from my sight.
Waves of despair
Burning steel
Scarlet liquid
and a muffled pop.
Clouding vision
fading steps
drying red
and a mahogany floor.
And then,
The air thins
and my throat trembles
Wheezing, uncontrollable wheezing,
color drains
body wanes
void.
“HUGHLEY!” I yelled
as I flung the searing cloth at the wide eyed man.
“His name is James Hughley.”
---Ohi D. |
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Eimear
It ain't me, babe
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| Posted: Mon May 12, 2008 4:29 pm Post subject: |
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Wow. I really have no idea what this poem is about, apart from, obviously Sherlock Holmes. What I can say is that the structure is good, although I think's there is unecesarry capitalization in some places that kind of throw the smooth flow off.
Other than that, it was good. What I understood of it- could someone please fill me in? Maybe I'm just having a stupid day.
Eimear |
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We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.
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pegasi_quill
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| Posted: Tue May 13, 2008 6:11 pm Post subject: Re: Holmes |
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| order wrote: |
Holme’s Last Resort
I couldn’t help but smile at the sight,
for what a sight it was.
His twitching eyes
his bulging veins.
Sherlock Holmes,
champion of reason,
master of observation,
humbled. I like the start, but maybe you could combine this with the previous 2 lines?
Forced to rely on that which he so disdained,
and from a child comma no less.
“Here.”
He tossed the flowing dark awkward line break
object at me contemptuously.
Ignoring his skeptical stare, I closed my hands around
the grainy cloth.
The man vanished from my sight.
Waves of despair
Burning steel
Scarlet liquid
and a muffled pop.
Clouding vision
fading steps
drying red
and a mahogany floor. Great imagery 
And then,
The air thins
and my throat trembles
Wheezing, uncontrollable wheezing,
color drains
body wanes effective rhyme
void.
“HUGHLEY!” I yelled
as I flung the searing cloth at the wide eyed man.
“His name is James Hughley.”
---Ohi D. |
Original idea. Overall, I really enjoyed it |
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order
Writer
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| Posted: Fri May 16, 2008 9:03 pm Post subject: |
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Thank you for the comments.
Eimear-
This poem was basically about Sherlock Holmes encountering a mystery that he could not solve using reason and evidence so he is forced to count on supernatural forces, which he -as a practical person- looks down on. Here that source is the psychic who has random visions to figure out the murder. |
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