An Anthology of Her.

*
Waiting for gold to fall in your lap rather than creating
rainbows for yourself and hiding the treasure somewhere
special.

**
How many times do you need to make me think
I'm close before you blow me away again...
I still play with words and scrunched up pieces of paper
but you've never needed to, everybody watches you
as you walk past, you know that wearing black mascara
will give you anything that catches your contrasted eyes.

***
There are stars with words forged on to them like wounds,
radiant in the sky so I'll never forget what they told me.
There are only so many times that I can scratch my
fingernails grasping into the void, the blood has stained
the paper I'm writing on, staining this poem you'll never read.

****
You have holes of beauty sketched below your forehead
but only kissing mirrors lets you know what a masterpiece
has been drawn. There’s an art gallery of infatuation
built around your fifty pence foundation
and you're happy to make awkward conversation
with glass dolls as long as it makes you stand out.

*****
You’re listening to another song where a phone
hangs up at before the intro kicks in, and you
sing along half-asleep to the soundtrack of death.

I'm buying you drinks in the glow of neon lights
hoping you won't break my heart, and when
the party ends I walk you home because it's
dark since the stereo stopped ringing.

******
Because even at midnight when the sun has died
and I can't see except for your sparkling eyes,
you'd still illuminate my soul.

*
Waiting for gold to fall in your lap rather than creating
rainbows for yourself and hiding the treasure somewhere
special. the underlined part I'm not to sure about.. the rest of the stanza is fine, just.. rainbows. I can't help but get strange images in my head from that.

**
How many times do you need to make me think
I'm close before you blow me away again... like this better then the way it was in the oroginal piece
I still play with words and scrunched up pieces of paper
but you've never needed to, everybody watches you this line down is wordy. I"m going to go by line here.. the last you could be omitted
as you walk past, you know that wearing black mascara you can get rid of "that" and it doesn't feel as awkward to read
will give you anything that catches your contrasted eyes. contrasted? can't decide if i like that in this line or not. without, it sounds cleaner..

***
There are stars with words forged on to them like wounds,
radiant in the sky so I'll never forget what they told me. ok, then what did they tell you? is that what you have in the next few lines? if so, I would change the pucunation to a colon, if not.. confusing. highly confusing.
There are only so many times that I can scratch my
fingernails grasping into the void, the blood has stained
the paper I'm writing on, staining this poem you'll never read. last part of this line..no. i do see where you're coming from with it, just.. no.

****
You have holes of beauty sketched below your forehead "holes of beauty"? I find that to be over-the-top..
but only kissing mirrors lets you know what a masterpiece
has been drawn. There’s an art gallery of infatuation
built around your fifty pence foundation
and you're happy to make awkward conversation
with glass dolls as long as it makes you stand out. assuming the rhyming is intentional, it works quite well. Glass dolls.. nice.

*****
You’re listening to another song where a phone
hangs up at before the intro kicks in, and you is at s'posed to be there?
sing along half-asleep to the soundtrack of death. rather gloom-and-doom, isn't it? Also.. it just doens't feel right.

I'm buying you drinks in the glow of neon lights
hoping you won't break my heart, and when i don't think that's necessary. work it into the poem more if you don't think you've made the point well enough.
the party ends I walk you home because it's
dark since the stereo stopped ringing.

******
Because even at midnight when the sun has died
and I can't see except for your sparkling eyes,
you'd still illuminate my soul. rather contradicts the first few stanzas, doesn't it? makes sense, acutally. was the rhyme here intentional? I'm not overly fond of it, personally, but that's a really nit-picky nit-pick.


You said this was important, so I was really meticulous. I like how you combined and rewrote parts of previous poems here (hence the name, eh?). In particular, the first stanza. The glass dolls was from a more recent poem, I beleive, and music about death.. that sounds vaguely familiar, I just can't place it. "kissing mirrors" makes me think of mirror kisses.. This does seem a little long, but I think part of that is general wordiness, which is easliy enough remedied. meh, you still amaze me.

You already know I thank you for this..

Revised version for anyway who's interested -


*
You wait for gold to fall in your lap rather than creating
rainbows in tormented skies and finding treasure
when the minute hand strikes.

**
How many times do you need to make me think
I'm close before you blow me away again...
I still play with words and scrunched up pieces of paper
but you've never needed to, everybody watches
as you walk past. You know wearing black mascara
will give you anything that catches your eye.

***
There are stars with words forged on them like wounds,
radiant in the sky so I'll never forget what they told me.
There are only so many times I can scratch my
fingernails grasping into the void, the blood has stained
the paper I'm writing on, hiding words that will never be seen.

****
You have da vinci's sketched below your forehead
but only kissing mirrors lets you know what a masterpiece
has been drawn. There's an art gallery of infatuation
and you're happy to make awkward conversation
with glass dolls, as long as it makes you stand out.

*****
You're listening to another song where a phone hangs up
before the intro kicks in, and you murmur the words
to the soundtrack of death, zombified by profound metaphors.
You live your life like a three minute guitar solo,
picking up attractive riffs and dropping
them when the improvisation gets too hot
and the finale gets too dark.

******
Because even at midnight when the sun has died
and I cant see except for your sparkling eyes,
you'd still illuminate my soul.

Yes, me again, and I'm certianly interested.

I still have some nit-picks (but when do I not?) so if you want to hear more from me, I'm happy to help, but i think another opinion would be helpful...

Also.. my nit-picks are pretty much in the same spots they were earlier, but different parts, most of which I'm hesitant to suggest change becuase i know your work.. (not well, mind, but well enough to think there's a reason for my nit-picks).

Anyhoo, just so you know what I'm talking about, part 4 sounds a bit off still to me.. the second part, mostly. right now I think I like the way you had it originally as to version two, especially once you get down to the rhyimg lines. If you're going for a more awkward feel, then that works, but if you want more rushed/awkward with more of a rhythm/flow to it, the first one does that.

Ok, focusing far too much on details again, aren't I? Overall, much better (I know, I told you that, but thought I'd reiterate). Thus, an overview, with the 4th part omitted due to extensives above.

1st stanza, me likey much more

2nd.. yep, got that "never" in there.. looks good, a little off rhythm/flow (which ever you perfere) wise, though. third and 4th lines, mostly the transition in the 5th line. I have a suggestion, if you'd like to hear it (I wouldn't blame you if you were sick of my suggestions, though).

3rd. oh yes.

5th. the 4th line has grown on me. A lot.

6th. pah, beautiful in my opinion.

Dagnabbit, Jack! I came in here with the full intention of ripping apart something you've written for once in my life, but instead I fell in love with your poetry all over again. You cracker.

Favourites:

"You live your life like a three minute guitar solo,"

"Because even at midnight when the sun has died
and I cant see except for your sparkling eyes,
you'd still illuminate my soul."

The last bit is one of the most beautiful things you've ever written.

Thanks, that means a lot to me Ari! Although perhaps ripping it apart may have been more useful...

Yeah, but I'm beginning to think it's not in my nature to be useful... my critiques are too nice... I need to work on that... I think I'm too positive a person or something...