battlefields

This was formerly another piece, but I gave it a facelift. You can find it here.

battlefields

i despise your eyes so cynically
colored, crimson like the flags you flew
when you threw bombs and played napoleon.
(you were always conquering whatever
you could get your hands on.)

i hate those pompous uniformed shoulders,
that machine gun mouth firing off the rounds
of your big word collection – and what does that even
mean anyway? you know perfectly well
these are tears in my eyes.

i should have known it would blow up in my face,
third degree burns (instead of your lips) on me;
your superficial depth stopping up my charred remains
and can i just say

you're only as deep that beer can
you’re draining and no, “fuck you go to hell”
doesn’t mean we can still be friends.
you know as well as i that battlefields become
soldiers' graves, and everyone is always
as pathetic as they think they are.

That was great. I loved the tone especially - the bitterness, sarcasm, it all built up well to your last lines. It did seem a bit disjointed - I don't know if every stanza flows best to convey your meaning, I'm not sure if I understood everything you were saying. Brilliant use of the extended metaphor though, it brings your poem together where perhaps before it was lacking.
Best thing I've read on here in a while; well done!

I agree with Liz this was pretty good!

you know as well as i that battlefields become
soldiers' graves, and everyone is always
as pathetic as they think they are.

Love the ending part there, this is wonderfully original (hey i osund like my english teacher lol) and well, its a good poem overall, well done!

Meevs
x

Liz --

Thanks. I agree, it does feel a bit disjointed. I don't know, I'm not a pro at these things -- I am trying my best. It is fine as is, but if I want it to be great, there will be more editing and reworking in the future.

Again, thanks for reading and bothering to critique. I will return the favor.

-- Lyndsey


Miyaviloves --

I appreciate your input. Have a wonderfully original day! (Hehe.)

-- Lyndsey

Very powerful, Shriek. I enjoyed it and the metaphor was easy to understand yet still held onto that bit of vagueness which made it intriguing. Nicely written, as always. It flowed very well and was in all a grand poem. Great job, Shriek.
Love ya!

I quite enjoyed this. I think if you were to clean it up a bit, both gramatically and structurally, the impact would be all the more profound. Some in-line suggestions:


I despise your colored, crimson eyes
that fly like the flags you flew when you
threw bombs and played napoleon.
(you were always conquering whatever
you could get your hands on.)

I hate those pompous uniformed shoulders,
that machine gun mouth firing off the rounds
of your empty words--you knew perfectly well
that those were tears in my eyes.

I should have known it would blow up in my face,
lining my face with third degree burns
--instead of your lips, only
your superficiality on my charred remains.
Can I just say:

you're no deeper than the beer can
you’re drinking and “fuck you”
doesn’t mean we can still be friends.
You know as well as I that battlefields become [I especially enjoyed these last three lines]
soldiers' graves, and everyone is always
as pathetic as they think they are.