Encounter between the Farmer and his Swine

The soft red leaky tendrils
of the sun’s emitted fumes
upon the farmhouse windowpane:
a morning whisper jagged in design
and prophylactic tedium
to wake the sleeping farmer
from his angry bedroom imagery.
his fat wife still asleep, her
features menacing and raw.

Always asleep.

He thinks: a pig must die.
Thoughts plump with blood,
the dew-dappled barnhouse
aching slightly to the left,
the farmer goes within.

-Here’s one.
The piglet’s trot across the earthen pen
resultant from the farmer’s tired moan.
Angelic, swathed in ivory,
the beast’s melodic whine
will grind the farmer’s heart to particles.

The knife he carries will succumb to the ground
as the creature is flung forthwith into his arms.
Tears will crumple down the farmer’s face...

But thank God the pig will not speak,
because we’re tired of talking, innocent pigs.

Hey there...you seem to be new, so I'll make sure you're informed about some of our rules here on YWS. I see that you've posted a lot of new stuff, but we like to see you critique at least two things before you post your own. Also, keep the ratio of critiques to new posts about 2:1, and try not to post a bunch of stuff all in one day. It's okay, because you're new, but now you know!

As for the poem, it was difficult for me to really get much from it because it seemed to be more an exercise in vocabulary than anything else.

Description and word choice. Adjectives and ten-dollar words can be fun, but, like sugary sweets, are to be used sparingly. Often a simple word is much better than an elegant one. Remember, your reader isn't going to be very interested in the poem itself if he's stumbling over every other word.
This doesn't mean your description has to suffer. I really liked the way you used "tendrils" to describe the sun's rays...I just didn't like the three adjectives that came before it.

He thinks: a pig must die.

This, too, is good. It is simple, and in its simplicity, powerful.

Tone. This line:

But thank God the pig will not speak,
because we’re tired of talking, innocent pigs.

seemed dreadfully out of place. It seemed cynical and very informal, whereas the rest of the poem is distant and thoughtful. Are you trying to make a reference to Charlotte's Web or something? Well, whatever it means, whatever it is a reference to, these two lines clash terribly with the rest of the piece.

Keep at it, and get out there and crit some pieces!
-Colleen

as a poem this is ok, the first part kinda gruesome. laughed during some , and confused on others. it was hard to follow. but well written.

kim

Welcome, welcome.

This really sucked me in. I smell John Steinbeck, DH Lawrence, Annie Proux, Joanne Harris, a little George Orwell, perhaps, along with your allusion to "Charlotte's Web", your rhythm and balance here seems a little Thornton Wilder, Robert Frost.
Quite rich in that tradition of pastoral prose, poetry and play. Within that context, I would disagree with Colleen. Granted a strong verb is word a thousand florid adjectives, but no, what adjectives are used here suits the genre, especially in the opening lines, they grabbed hold of me, I could almost taste it. "The soft red leaky tendrils", that's lovely, and you ground it nicely with "fumes". That whole stanza is quite lyrical. Your second stanza, again, you're good at balancing your imagery so it doesn't become too dark or too saccharine, nice and earth. I think the third and fourth stanzas could use a little focus, it's a little arcane in parts, keep that sharp edge, keep your specifics going there. The last stanza, I think it does fit, actually, in accordance with your omniscient persona, there is, if not a cynicism, a deep stoicism present throughout. It's actually very Aesop, the telling of the tale and then the moral.

Anyway, good job, be interested to see how this fits within your body of work, give me a shout out if you want anything. Fine start here.

D.H. has some good short stories, I should read more of him.

Ah, you are one of my favorite writers. Why come to this place? It is not deserving of your talents. This piece made me giddy, in it's perfection. Write the power.