...

...

blackbird12 wrote:as the schoolbell shrieks, You never say what happens as the school bell shrieks... unless you are jumping to the bathroom scene in the middle of a stanza.
a shrill sawtoothed sound like his mother’s voice—
boys don’t like boys—what’s the matter with you?

In the bathroom he reels,
clinging to the sink,
sucking on the air raw with body odors, I think you should use something to break this line up. There needs to be a pause somewhere around "raw".

You are an awesome writer and I really can't help you. You descriptions are perfect. You words are varied and add spice.

Wish I was as good as you,

A. S.

Alright! Here as promised and those cupcakes made my stomach growl!

blackbird12 wrote:He fidgets in the classroom seat,
fingers wringing and knotting,
gnawing his nails down to ragged red splinters
with the tap-tap-tap of his foot like his own frenetic pulse:
jeans too tight in the crotch.

This stanza was really good. It flowed well, and the descriptions were fresh.
However, usually, the first letter of the line is capitalized. (If you want to get all technical)

blackbird12 wrote:The chalky air chokes him
as algebraic equations weave patterns on the blackboard,
the numbers looping against his pupils,
unruly lines and swoops curling into his father’s furious eyebrows;
at last the schoolbell shrieks,
its shrill sawtoothed sound like his mother’s voice—
boys don’t like boys—what’s the matter with you?

Once again...the stanza flows well and the descriptions are really, really good.
The emotion is obvious here.

blackbird12 wrote:He claws through a stampede in the halls,
avoiding eyes, playing invisible,
seeking refuge in the bathroom
where he reels, clinging to the sink,
sucking on the air raw with body odors,
barely daring to stare in the mirror—
he sees the zits on his face like bulletholes,
feels the absence inside him growl like an appetite.

I would repeat myself by praising the epic flowiness and such, but I won't. You already know I like it.

[quote="redbird12"He chews his tongue, blood corroding his teeth
as he waits, waits for a dreamboy to replace
the salt-crusted pillow he embraces each night like a lover.[/quote]

Awwe. This poem was sad, and really good. Your descriptions and imagery were fresh and it flowed beautifully. You can feel the emotion behind it, and it's a good explanation for what he's going through.

Like Cal said, I feel absolutely useless here as there's not much to correct. Nothing at all really.
Great job and thanks for the read!

Hey there! Here as requested (thanks for it by the way).

Quotes 'n' Comments

fingers wringing and knotting,
gnawing his nails down to ragged red splinters

All of these words are making your poem seems choppy. It's a bit wordy, I think only one of the words on the first line shown should be mentioned. We get what your character is going through, you're just over analyzing it a bit.

jeans too tight in the crotch.

Aha, I had to read all the way through the poem to fully figure out what this mean, and when I did I was like 'genius!' I love how you hinted towards the poem being sexual early on, but not in a disgusting way that makes me want to turn away.

seeking refuge in the bathroom

I find his sanctuary in the bathroom amusing. I mean, you'd think a place where men's genitalia is exposed would be the last place this struggling boy would wish to go.

the salt-crusted pillow he embraces each night like a lover.

Beautifully put. I just had to tell you.

Overall

I really have nothing negative to say about this poem. I think your speed was good, your word choice, though a bit much at times, made the speaker not only seem unbiased about what's happening, but also comfortable with it. I think this is a great topic; it has a lot of emotion that a lot of people don't want to tackle it, especially if they didn't go through it (which is my case). I can really feel the emotions of the boy, and I know it sounds weird, but I can feel his sexual tension. The way he feels about men, I don't know, this poem is just extremely sexual, let's leave it at that.

Keep writing, you're awesome at it.

Classy.

At first, I was thinking that there might be a lot to change, but now I don't think do... I do have a few things thought...

He fidgets in the classroom seat,
fingers wringing and knotting,
gnawing his nails down to ragged red splinters << I'd take this out...
with the tap-tap-taping of his foot like his own frenetic pulse: << Take out 'with the' and 'of ' and add 'ing' at the end of the last 'tap' I think this makes this line sound better, it was too long before... and when you say 'with the' you need somehink ofter the what the 'with the' was talking about... so I would just take it out...
jeans too tight in the crotch. << This I didn't get at first... I mean, I thought about skinny jeans, but I didn't see how it was relevent to the poem, but then after reading I understood, and liked it a lot!

The chalky air chokes him
as algebraic equations weave patterns on the blackboard,
the numbers looping against his pupils,
unruly lines and swoops curling into his father’s furious eyebrows;
at last the schoolbell shrieks,
its shrill sawtoothed sound like his mother’s voice—
boys don’t like boys—what’s the matter with you?

Here you use a lot of disctiptive words like 'weave' 'patterns' 'looping' 'unruly' 'swoops' and so on... This stanza isn't that bad, but the way its written makes it hard to read and has no flow... Try it like this:

The chalky air chokes him
as algebraic equations
weave patterns on the blackboard,
the numbers looping against his pupils,
unruly lines and swoops
curling into his father’s furious eyebrows;
at last the schoolbell shrieks,
its shrill Switch this word with this word sawtoothed sounding like his mother’s voice—
boys don’t like boys—what’s the matter with you?

This is the stanza that mad me see what the poem was about...

He chews his tongue, blood corroding his teeth
as he waits, waits for a dreamboy << I'd say to use a differant word for the second 'waits' having the two words so close makes the line sound bad...
<to replace> the salt-crusted pillow << I would move 'to replace' to the begianing of this line, and 'he embraces each night like a lover' to another line... I think this makes the flow better...
he embraces each night like a lover.

I absolutly love this line! Its the part about the pillow that makes the line great. It is also a very good ending...

Overall, it is a poem on a topic I haven't read much and it was wriiten quite well, with some work it can be a very meaningful poem!

Hope I helped,

~Rain~

This is the second poem, I 've read by you (the first one being Marie Antoinette). I've noticed that you make the most of every word. You don't use words for the sake of using them, because they rhyme, or because they sound "good". You use words that help paint a picture and because of that your poetry doesn't sound unnatural or forced; it flows perfectly.

I also love how you don't limit yourself to the linear. In this stanza:

The chalky air chokes him
as algebraic equations weave patterns on the blackboard,
the numbers looping against his pupils,
unruly lines and swoops curling into his father’s furious eyebrows;
at last the schoolbell shrieks,
its shrill sawtoothed sound like his mother’s voice—
boys don’t like boys—what’s the matter with you?

It's almost as if we're in two places at once as you compare the boy's surroundings at school to his home life. Instead of just describing adolescence you've shown us this youth's life and though it's not lengthy poem, you give us far more than just a glimpse.

I found this line especially genius:

with the tap-tap-tap of his foot like his own frenetic pulse:
jeans too tight in the crotch.

After saying all of that, I do feel that in some places you get a bit angsty. A perfect example of this would be these two lines:

where he reels, clinging to the sink,
sucking on the air raw with body odors,

I'm sure this is probably intentional as this poem is about adolescence, but I feel like less angst and the more genuine emotion=powerful poetry.

Overall, great job.

Write On!
Lette

This poem was really well written with intricate descriptions and a really, really strong theme.
Well my favorite stanza was this one-

"He claws through a stampede in the halls,
avoiding eyes, playing invisible,
seeking refuge in the bathroom
where he reels, clinging to the sink,
sucking on the air raw with body odors,
barely daring to stare in the mirror—
he sees the zits on his face like bulletholes,
feels the absence inside him growl like an appetite."


Umm, sometimes the poem got a little complex for me, but it didn't bother me too much.
I truly love you for selecting such a theme, I myself am a GLBT supporter though I am not one of them.

Keep Writing! You're awesome.

I absolutely love this. it simply had me right from the start, I could read it all day!

Emotion is a big part with this type of poetry. This is through a different set of eyes, this is something we want to feel, to know. Nobody ever seems to realize how much they ignore the feelings of others. We might understand it, sure, but yet, we don't see it.

What I really liked about this was that it's something that not everybody feels. it's a different type of insecurity. The character is insecure simply about who they are, what they love, what they see. It's so strong compared to the average teenager, and I can sense this even in a simple poem.

I also love your imagery and the way you described it. But the emotion was most defiantly the best. Very talented. Keep up the writing (:

All I have to say is, I'm in love with this.

Do i really have to state my opinion about this, when all my fellow writers said enough.... it was a very beutiful poem. The words had a certain impact to them that made it suspenseful. I loved it.

Heya blackbird.

You bug me, you know that? Whenever I read a some of yours, I seriously struggle to find anything to critique... I'm clueless enough about poetry as it is, without you posting great poems like this! Taking all of this into account, I have to warn you in advance that this review probably won't be much use...

He fidgets in the classroom seat,
fingers wringing and knotting.
Gnawing his nails down to ragged red splinters
with the tap-tap-tap of his foot like his own frenetic pulse:
jeans too tight in the crotch.

The chalky air chokes him
as algebraic equations weave patterns on the blackboard,
the numbers looping against his pupils.
Unruly lines and swoops, curling into his father’s furious eyebrows;
at last the schoolbell shrieks,
its shrill sawtoothed sound like his mother’s voice—
boys don’t like boys—what’s the matter with you?

He claws through a stampede in the halls,
avoiding eyes, playing invisible,
seeking refuge in the bathroom
where he reels, clinging to the sink,
sucking on the air, raw with body odors,
barely daring to stare into the mirror—
he sees the zits on his face like bulletholes,
feels the absence inside him growl like an appetite.

He chews his tongue, blood corroding his teeth
as he waits, waits for a dreamboy to replace
the salt-crusted pillow he embraces each night like a lover.

Overall

Like I've already informed you, I really adored this poem. I was especially fond of the subject and the content of the poem itself. Thinking about it, the subjects of your poems always are extremely clever and effective. They're always original and I love to see you constantly thinking outside of the box. I know that I say this every time, but out of all of your poems so far, this is certainly my favourite. One of my best friends is gay and the emotions and descriptions in this poem really seemed to remind me of him. Obviously, I don't know what all of his feelings are, but I do think that you hit the nail on the head with this one. Haha... my little sayings... What I'm basically saying is that the character you created was very believable. Like a few others have said, I think that it's really clever how you've portrayed a kind of sexual poem, yet made it seem so unsexual somehow. I like it.

I am seriously struggling here... I want to find something to advise you to improve on though because, well, I obviously want to help you make this poem as good as it can possibly get. I'm honestly thinking that this is as good as it can possibly be, to be honest. If I knew a lot more about poetry, I might be able to actually help you. I am definitely going to advise you to request a review from someone who does, in fact, know an awful lot about poetry. The only slightly negative comment I can think of is that I had to read it over twice to understand the poem completely. Although, I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing. You might have wanted that, I don't know.I have noticed that a few times in your poems though. I do often have to read the poem more than once to grasp the true meaning and concept of it. Usually, I can easily recognise the outline of the poem, but I need to read over it to notice the more detailed subjects and happenings of the poem.

I apologise for really not helping much at all, but I suppose that could be a good thing. Considering everyone else has struggled to find something to critique, this poem must surely be pretty darn good!

Keep writing,

xoxo Skins

Hello there B-Bird!

Here to review.

Seeing at those critiques above me, I don't think it's still needed to do a line by line review. So here it goes.

First of all, I thank you for the good read. In my own opinion, it was a good thing that you didn't make the poem too obvious to convey to your readers that your character is gay, but instead it was your good sense of vocabulary and wording that independently speaks the message of the poem. Even though there was the absence of rhyming patterns, metaphors and everything, I think you have done well on making your poem stand out with simplicity and uniqueness. There are like hundreds of poem which shares the theme as yours, but you have written this properly.

I apologize in advance if ever you see this poem vague because honestly speaking, you have taken your critiques into consideration and that was why the piece turned out like this beautifully. And with that, I don't have anything negative to say. I don't think I was much of help at all. But anyways, this is a good poem. PM me for questions.


Keep writing!

Peace out!

~yuri

blackbird -

Ah, see, now this was really something.

Forget theme for a moment. You mentioned to me that aesthetics aren't as great here - and I agree entirely. But. This is not meant to be a pretty poem, in any case. Its subject matter is ugly - or at least, that is what I am getting from your descriptions of it. What makes it more beautiful is the emotion behind the face of the poem; the helplessness of it, the awkwardness of finding oneself - or of trying to.

He fidgets in the classroom seat,
fingers wringing and knotting,
gnawing his nails down to ragged red splinters,
the tap-tap-tap of his foot like his own frenetic pulse:
jeans too tight in the crotch.

Four very fidgety lines later and we get to the final punch, a very amusing description at that. Everything is quite charged, here, isn't it? All this fidgeting and fingers wrigning and knotting and gnawing going on - I thought the word 'frenetic' pushed it a bit over the boundary for me, since you'd already spent so much description earlier on...and, I'd say, no need to clunk it up when you're already hitting it pitch perfect. And a simile of foot-tapping and pulse doesn't work well...it's like desribing the softness of rose petals using the softness of a leaf...too close already to be compared.

Ragged red splinters is disgusting. Bravo if that was the intended effect. But it revolts me and, to be perfectly honest, I don't see how anyone would gnaw their nails that far unless they were mentally deranged. Is there a psychological issue with the character? I think not; so don't exaggerate too far so as to lose credibility. You want the reader to empathise with him, identify with him in some way; not to be repulsed to the extent where his mental faculties are called into question. Ragged red splinters...too frantic, angry; tone it down a little so we can get closer to him earlier on.

Also - I just had a thought - why not uncapitalise? (Leave full-stops there, etc) In my experience, decapitalisation serves to add an immediate sense of simplicity to the poem, and it helps you convey powerful themes without making the stanzas look too mighty-and-important from the outset.

The chalky air chokes him
as algebraic equations
weave patterns on the blackboard,
numbers looping against his pupils.

No pun intended? Looping against his pupils - I read 'students' instead of 'hole in eye' first time round. Might want to pick something less ambiguous to continue flow - not that you've got much flow in the poem anyway; it lacks grace, elegance. And this is fine. He is not graceful, so why should the lines be?

I do not like to stunt a creative description unless it is only halfway creative, in which case, it is hard to imagine. However, 'chalky air' seems overkill. Is the air chalky? No. Why say it is? To show how the class is choking him? (metaphorically) Well, that's all well and good - a certain sense of entrapment here, too, I see - but chalky air is trying too hard to be creative and failing. It's only halfway there. You can do better - I know you can.

Unruly lines and swoops,
curling into his father’s furious eyebrows;
at last the schoolbell shrieks,
its shrill sawtoothed sound like his mother’s voice—
boys don’t like boys—what’s the matter with you?

I was just about to say above (after the first part of stanza 2) that we needed more character connection, but I rather think it worth the wait to get to that last line you've just given here. ^

Also - the transition from the looping algebra patterns to the lines and swoops of his father's eyebrows is great. What I didn't like was the jumpiness from father (home) to school to mother (home). Try saying 'unruly lines and swoops / like those in his father's eyebrows' -- don't think 'furious' is needed since 'unruly' does the job fine, and the shrieking schoolbell is furious enough. I'd bare it down to 'schoolbell shrieks, / like his mother's voice' without the unecessary clutter in the middle so that we (a) can cut right to the chase, the final line without beating about the bush so obviously and (b) because 'shrill sawtoothed' does nothing -- 'unruly' and 'shrieks' will convey the sound of his mother's voice without you needing to resort to such petty and glaringly obvious onomatopoeic devices.

Clawing through a stampede in the halls,
he seeks refuge in the bathroom
where he reels, gripping the sink,
sucking on the air raw with body odors,

No connection here with the character. There was that beautiful last line 'boys don't like boys etc etc' above, and we are flung back into straight description of what he is doing without a thought for having the reader empathise properly. Integrate something thoughtful within this description. Also - change 'body odors' to something less I-don't-know-the-word-so-I'll-throw-this-in-there-till-I-find-what-the-word-I-wanted-to-say-was-in-the-first-place. It's rather obvious that that's a placeholder.

barely daring to stare into the mirror—
he plucks at the blackheads like bulletholes on his face.
The absence growls inside him like an appetite.

Duly revolting, but it works. I just want to clarify something - do you want the reader to dislike him? I assumed you would want empathy with the mention of homosexuality, since that, to me, seemed like too poignant a phrase to disregard, but now that I think about it -- most of your descriptions are written to appall, so I am wondering at your purpose. It's very distancing, this description of blackheads like bulletholes. Does he sound like someone we'd want to know, personally? I think not. Can we, however, to some tiny extent, feel for him? Yes; but these lines are barely scattered - 'jeans too tight in the crotch,' 'unruly lines and swoops / ...in his father's eyebrows,' 'shrieks .../ like his mother's voice / boys...etc etc'

This is what you have achieved: mostly disgust, but some element of meaning/emotion as well; the barest element.

Is this what you want?

For me, the poem was only worth reading for its little moments of insight and twists of feeling; everything else was background; it was things the whole world sees about him. You, as the poet, have the job of not only bringing to light the things we all see in an intriguing way, but also to bring to light what we don't see. Obviously, how much of each you do depends entirely on your original intention -- to get closer to the character briefly, or closer to them for longer?

Upto you, of course, but just something to consider, that's all.

Also - absence of what? And again - absence and appetite are too close ideas to use in a simile. If you say 'absence growls like an appetite,' food is generally the first thought. Be cleaner in your similes to stop them jarring like this. I know the absence is probably for the 'dreamboy' you mention later, but still; there is a stanza break between here and there, so the unintended connotation remains.

He chews his tongue, blood corroding his teeth
as he waits, pining for a dreamboy
to replace the salt-crusted pillow
he embraces each night like a lover.

You are not at all presenting a pretty picture of homosexuals here. You've thrown all empathy out the window, despite you saying 'pining for a dreamboy...' Do you want to leave the reader with such a feeling of horror? Or do you, instead, want one last point of connection between us and him; a last intimate line of insight/thought? Despite his 'embracing,' the tongue chewing and blood corroding his teeth (which I am quite certain is a gross exaggeration since that is not possible..unless he's mental...which I already warned you against him being) are too strong images to let your last line count for as much poignancy as it should.

And anyway, I think you can do better than the rather cliché image of embracing a pillow at night like a lover.

Of course, I will say this is in dire need of a title change. I don't like things summarised like that. Maybe if your poem was uncapitalised, something like - breaking - might be fitting; kind of more subtly conveys how we are breaking into adulthood, breaking apart, breaking stereotypes, breaking nails and eyebrows and blackheads and tongues in the process.


Navita

blackbird –

Your endless capacity for edits is leaving me somewhat amazed. I will comment on changes only, since you know my thoughts on everything else above.

Firstly, uncapitalisation added a wonderful touch to it. It makes what you say appear less – and, on a personal note, I’m not fond of looming capitals everywhere in poetry.

fingers wringing and knotting,
gnawing on his nails,

This lacks the ‘edge’ you had with the former description. You’ve mellowed it to the point that it’s a little predictable, and predictability is not good, not this early in the poem. Obviously, I can see you trying to give it an edge here:

his pulse a quaking knife:

But ‘quaking knife’? Really? Maybe ‘edge’ is not quite the word I was looking for. ‘Point of difference,’ I think. And the fact that ‘pulse a quaking knife’ is not an image we hear of often would be reason enough to question as to why that might be: in this case, I associate pulse with wrist and when you write ‘knife’ there like that, juxtaposed with my inferred image of a wrist…you know what I am thinking. That association is pointless.

the chalk claws the blackboard,

Cliché much? Again, an inferred association: chalk, claws…nails. Find another verb.

algebraic equations
scratching their bony patterns,
numbers slicing into his skull,

Enjambment here was nicer; get rid of the superfluous and try-hard ‘bony’ and this should be good. If the line still needs a little something, might want to consider an adverb.

their unruly lines and swoops
like his father’s eyebrows,
thick lips curling into a grimace—

Good, good. The assonance in the last line carries just the right touch of disgust we need.

shattering his father
like his mother’s voice,
boys don’t like boys—what’s the matter with you?

Ah, no. The schoolbell is ‘shattering his father’? No. It’s shattering him.

he cuts through the hallway crowds,
each brief accidental touch

And here, I saw so much potential for another theme. Isolation vs. fitting in with the crowd. Being a part of the crowd, physically, but being an outsider, socially. There was something lovelily jarring about ‘each brief accidental touch’. Another line worth keeping, perhaps even integrating into other sections.

For example, you could do the normal distance-vs-closeness thing at the very beginning when he’s chewing his fingernails or whatever; conversely, you could use the motif of ‘touch’ here, which I think might be more appropriate. He fidgets – his hands touch his own. He hears the touch of the chalk, but it is distant. Touch of eyes in a classroom, lateral and dark. The lack of touch of his father; how his mother’s voice is touching him to the core. Touch from bodies pressed in a school corridor. Touch in the sexual sense of the word.

And that delicate balance you had in the line, ‘each brief accidental touch’ was tossed out unceremoniously here:

a fright and a thrill,

‘Brief accidental touch’ carries all the meaning, and ‘fright’ and ‘thrill’ can’t even begin to capture that meaning. Replace this with something that doesn’t try to outcompete the previous line, so that it still makes sense.

his sanctuary and his trap.

This is the worst kind of a metaphor. Slapped in the reader’s face. It relies on a reader so stupid that anything more sophisticated won’t work. You’ve got the idea in your head; now get the words on paper right.

Could play around with things like the touch of the bathroom walls, slanted towards him, around him or something. That seems ominously trapping, but also like an embrace.

tiles cracking in fragments beneath his feet,

Nice. Although I would prefer more mention on fragments, breaking earlier on. The chalk as it breaks against the whiteboard? The break and momentary connection by touch in the hallways? I see you tried it with ‘shattering’ – but it doesn’t work, anyway. Craving and fearing the start and break of touch?

chapped unkissed lips,
cheeks rubbed raw from grandma’s fingers—

This means nothing to me. No effect whatsoever. Imagery that is floundering uselessly. Make me care. If all else fails, at least expand on your major motifs here.

jagged pieces
of a boy
falling apart,
fracturing.

The poem is called fracturing. A motif is that of breaking. Why are you summarising the point of the poem at the end of it? Do you think the reader this brainless? That they need a ta-da!-this-was-the-point-of-the-poem! ending, not open to any kind of interpretation or with an air of mystery at all? It’s sloppy and the easy way out without really concluding it properly. Have a last, poignant action or sentiment in your closing line; an image that stays with us an haunts us, not this hey!-look!-I-know-how-to-integrate-metaphors-in-poetry! ending.

Keep working on this. Good luck for further revisions.


Navita

Blackbird,

First off, your poetry is brilliant. I read the older version, but I don't remember if I reviewed. This is such an improvement. I know it's not helpful, but I can't really find anything that Navita hasn't touched upon. So, I'll just give you one nitpick. You use the almost unfitting, kind of trying-too-hard comparison of "quaking knife," and then right after, the almost cliche "clawing." It rather fell flat for me right there. But other than that, I have no real nitpicks. Stylistically, I rather enjoyed the lack of capitals. It's more of an aesthetic thing for me, because I don't really see how it contributes to the meaning of the poem otherwise. The story is very, very well told. Overall, this is wonderful.

~Sporks