Cutlery Can Do More.

It drips,
A travelling circus of blood cells and metal.
Magnesium and iron. I'm bionic to the bone.
It looks so vivid, a liquefied ruby.
Just think, how much a small vegetable knife can do.
I've gone insane.
Simply chopping potatoes has led to me to dissecting my own arm.
Perhaps it's not the potato's fault or the vegetable knife's either.
This agonizing ten year span of marriage, being tied to a kitchen appliance all night and day
has drove me simply...suicidal.
I will happily leave this life, a bored housewife.
Whose aspirations of becoming president have vanished into the air, whose idea of becoming
a civil servant to the nation has left the mind.
All I have to look forward to is him.
My "other half", my beau.
Those piercing eyes, fixed on my helpless body lying along the kitchen floor in a sticky red pool.
His desperate attempt to save what is left of his maid or "wife".
Yes, i have so much to look forward to once I've glazed the pie with egg whites and sliced the red onions in four quarters. Who knows what limb i may have ripped off? With what appliance? A bread knife? A ladle? A wooden spoon? Will i even have eyes anymore to see what damage I'm doing? Or will the ice cream scoop have been used?
The kitchen is a dangerous place for a woman.

This is my first review, but I'll try my best!

First, I would like to tell you that I am no expert, and therefor do not claim to be one. Your poem was quite dark, but amusing at the same time. While I was reading this piece, I was thinking to myself, Is this woman crazy, or is she just feeling trapped within this relationship? Either way, it was enjoyable, and personally, it affected me as well. Being a woman has long been a tough thing to do, and sometimes men can drive you mad!

Anyways, it was a nice poem, in my opinion. A good read!

Hey there GB!

This is an amazingly dark poem. The level of gore is intense and your creativity with kitchen utensils is impressive, so for all that I really enjoyed it.

However, I think you should consider restructuring it. This is a wonderful first draft, but it kind of drags on and is too bulky in places. Your lines are so long, not exact like a poem should be. I have a lot of questions, too. What is this couple's relationship like? Does the narrator perceive things improperly or is her husband truly abusive and horrible? Why does she want to be a president? And becoming a house wife ruined that for her?

I feel like more than anything though, you need more structure to this. Especially towards the ends, the lines get so long. Keep in mind that you're writing in verse, and that's very important. Keep in mind, also, that in poetry every word you use is important, so only use the best words, phrases, and sentences you can think of. Hope all this helps, best of luck!

Hi,
to answer your questions the poem is essentially about a woman trapped in a marriage where she does love her husband, he isn't abusive but he is superior to her. additionally i wanted to set this poem in 1950's america, although i'm not american. It wasn't the norm at that time for women to aspire to be in a government job -for example- and i'm trying to show how insane she's become with a repetitive routine each day of cooking and cleaning. She longs for a more for-filling life and when she knows she can't have it, she decides she wants to end her life.
Hope this helps.

hey! i really liked this and i loooved the title.

buuuuttt, i think maybe you can write poems without giving a sentence to each line and maybe break them up?

i really enjoyed this. good job, hope to see more of your stuff.

Hello there

This is a very deep poem. Firstly, I liked your use of imagery, you were able to paint very vivid pictures in my head. The second thing I like is how different and original the concept is, so this is refreshing.
However, call me old fashioned, but the structure is all over the place. If I were you, I'd try to decompress the poem a little bit and also create stanzas which ever way you see fit. Toward the end it was like reading sentences in a story instead of a poem. But that's just me, maybe your structure is a poetic gesture.

A travelling circus of blood cells and metal.
Magnesium and iron. I'm bionic to the bone.
It looks so vivid, a liquefied ruby.

This is really good

Keep writing

Firstly, thanks for commenting on piece, I had to return the favor

I love the power of the first four lines, very bold and descriptive
I like how it starts deviating into metaphors with the knife
I like the rhetorical questions towards the end, and I absolutely adore the last line

Overall, I really liked this piece and I will admit, we do have similar writing styles. Very non-conformant . Keep it up, and don't let anyone tell you they don't like how you write. I look forward to reading your other pieces

I liked this piece. Deadly, cool, mysterious. Just the way that catches my attention. I like this poem a lot. I like how the wife is so depressed and ... dysfunctional(?) she results to cutting herself. That was really cool. I did not understand the biotic part, but it was cool.

GagaBowie wrote:It drips,
A travelling circus of blood cells and metal.
Magnesium and iron. I'm bionic to the bone.
It looks so vivid, a liquefied ruby.
Just think, how much a small vegetable knife can do.
I've gone insane.
Simply chopping potatoes has led to me to dissecting my own arm.
Perhaps it's not the potato's fault or the vegetable knife's either.
This agonizing ten year span of marriage, being tied to a kitchen appliance all night and day
has drove me simply...suicidal.
I will happily leave this life, a bored housewife.
Whose aspirations of becoming president have vanished into the air, whose idea of becoming
a civil servant to the nation has left the mind.
All i have to look forward to is him.
My "other half", my beau.
Those piercing eyes, fixed on my helpless body lying along the kitchen floor in a sticky red pool.
His desperate attempt to save what is left of his maid or "wife".
Yes, i have so much to look forward to once I've glazed the pie with egg whites and sliced the red onions in four quarters. Who knows what limb i may have ripped off? With what appliance? A bread knife? A ladle? A wooden spoon? Will i even have eyes anymore to see what damage I'm doing? Or will the ice cream scoop have been used?
The kitchen is a dangerous place for a woman.

Hmmm I liked this. I love how you place yourself in different roles and write from their point of view. It reminded me a bit of the song by P!nk called stupid girls. "What happened to the dream of the girl president" Either way I loved it. It was dark and mysterious. Kudos to you!!!!!!!!!!!
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