The Aborted Child

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-removed!- :smt001 :smt001 :smt001 :smt001

Thanks for the help! i'll try harder next time!
Last edited by Caduceus on Fri Apr 29, 2011 1:01 am, edited 2 times in total.




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Wow, this is very long and it doesn't read very smoothly. It's kind of like your rambling, but I get the gist. Your format urks me because it just adds to the crazy flow. That's just me :) Keep writing!
If you want to be a great writer, don't think about what you're going to write, just write it.

I'm a huge fan of writers block! When your brain halts, with no direction for where you should go, it gives you threads. All you have to do is pull and unravel the story you're meant to write.




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I have a friend who write like this.

I don't really get it.

Nice. (I think.)
"Ok, Lolpup. You can be a girl worth fighting for."
--Pengu




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I generally do not enjoy poetry. I like this. It is confusing. Its not touchy-feely poetry, and neither is it narrative poetry. As far as I can see, you're re-telling the story of Adam and Eve, and likening it to the abortion of a child. Adam ate the apple to increase his musical prowess? This poem seems at odds with your hyperactive personality, from what I saw of your welcome message. The grammatical errors don't bear correcting, but I think you know this, and deliberately do not capitalize or use punctuation appropriately to convey the mood of the poem.
There is really no advice I can give you on how to improve this work.
My favorite line was "the chick in calcium carbonate".
Do you write only poetry? (A lot of people here do.)
If you write prose as well, I'd like to read it.
A lie can run around the world before the truth has got its boots on.
- Terry Pratchett

Si non confectus, non recifiat - If it ain't broken, don't fix it.




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Hello Cad, here to review as requested. ^^

This poem has.... potential? I guess? - But I'm really sorry to say that I didn't enjoy it much at all. It feels like you just threw a bunch of words into a bucket, pulled them out and placed them at random places, with very random line and stanza breaks. I suppose that you could sort of grasp the gist of the whole thing, but it was hard to read and it bugged the eyes. There were so many grammatical mistakes.

I'll point out some here:

each sunday is like easter
for Adam.
he puffs his fat apple red lips,
blows impassioned breathe down
a sax's reed eye, tight-
with words drowned
out, in sound
from an abscess lip, like
a saxophone neck, a singin man's
throat, tasting sweet nostalgia of fruit,
with Eve. and Adam


The E needs to be capitalized on the beginning, and then please look at where you break the lines and then even worse, where you break off the stanza. I suppose you could break a stanza half-way through a sentence if you really wanted to, but it would have to be done right, and it would take a lot of talent for it to not bother me. Honestly, you don't seem to have enough experience to be able to pull it off. Not a whole lot of people do. It was extremely annoying, and just made the entire poem choppy and hard to read.

And then, in most areas of the poem - the wording just didn't make any sense whatsoever. Like I said, in a lot of parts, it's like you just pulled a few random words from a hat and shoved them down wherever you couldn't think of anything better. Some areas just had too many words as a whole. Imagery is good, but half of yours doesn't fit, doesn't make sense and it just makes the poem too descriptive and... wordy, as I have just said. I'll give you a few examples of that, too:

he puffs his fat apple red lips,
blows impassioned breathe down
a sax's reed eye, tight-


The first line - look at how wordy it is. 'Fat apple red lips' is one too many words. Not to mention the grammar here is very off, and 'he' needs to be capitalized, since you ended the last line in a period.

“this will give me music, tell us
of birth and death” Eve watched white molars,
canines, incisors pull pulp skin as lips
blew warm, like wolves on carrion
an expression she had no words for, but Adam
could sing. kissed Eve


Okay, so where to start here? Probably where you listed off every kind of teeth known to mouth - that was a little too much. Then 'like wolves on carrion' was just... just no. Then the line break - which is awful.

So, I won't point out any more, but I'm hoping that you get my gist, right? I hope you do. This poem was hard to read, it was jumpy, didn't flow, it had way too many words and the stanza breaks were.... well they just added to the 'hard to read' department. The only good part of this poem is that underneath all of it, there is something there. The poem has a meaning, it tells a story - but the way the poem's written is hiding that. It needs a lot of tweaking in my opinion, but if you try hard enough, you could make it a very good piece of work. ;)

Keep writing,
~~Ish.
Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurl.

got trans?




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Hey! Walker here with a review as requested

Alright so, I read this poem over probably six times trying desperately to discern a meaning and, unfortunately, I couldn't really find one. It appears, at start, to be an Adam and Eve story, but the prospects of music and such things as that entwining all make very little to know sense at all; at least, not in the way I suppose you would have wanted this to be.

That being said, there is always something that comes from writing. Personally speaking, I adored the second stanza;

finds eggs in the grass. glee
before they hatch, he
never cracks a sound, afraid to wake,
the chick in calcium carbonate Eden
to freedom. worried Adam,
she'll think he's a loser. Adam never
cracks an egg-
afraid to walk on shells. He gossips these
gospels with a sax, songs-


You connect your initial topic rather well, which is nice, but you still don't really answer the looming question of 'what does the saxaphone have to do with anything?

A poem, in itself, is very much like a story, and should have a solid, concrete theory or idea behind it. I can see the wheels are turning. You put a ton of effort into really creating something here, but you fall short because the topic in itself becomes wiry and confusing.

I think the best thing you could do for this piece is to try and sort out your thoughts. Give reason where its needed. Don't just add in random bits about saxophones and such little things like that that really don't matter at all with your topic. You speak of eggs metaphorically which was beautiful, nonetheless, but music... well, I'm not much of a fan of that aspect.

with a saxophone that kicked
and brushed tongues
on side to side, singing hymns
to birth and death. and
the creator miscarried

(his sheep)

left wandering, Adam
found the whistling tree in Jerusalem,
saw the first child on the crippled cross,
said
%u201Coh God, not again%u201D


Next, I would like to note upon the ending you chose. Not again? I'm really quite unsure as to how this even connects to your original message. I would have preferred this poem if it had just been about Adam and Eve. Keep to one topic.

Lastly, I wish to touch on your punctuation. You have blatant comma and period errors throughout this piece. Places where capitals should be used and alike. It may be poetry, but even in should one remember proper punctuation. There are instances where poetic license may overrun punctuation but only in certain aspects. In this piece, I found no areas where proper punctuation shouldn't have been used, to I think, if anything, you should go back and fix the blatant errors. If you should like me to fine-comb it for you, I could easily do that.

~Walker
Suppose for a moment that the heart has two heads, that the heart has been chained and dunked in a glass booth filled with river water. The heart is monologuing about hesitation and fulfillment while behind the red brocade the heart is drowning. - R.S




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I love your imagery in diction, but I would reconsider some line breaks and wording - the flow is pretty choppy. But once you fix the flow, I think you've got it - like I said, I just love the images and words you use.

~Blue



More than anything she wanted the world to be uncomplicated, for right and wrong to be as easily divided as the black and white sections of an Oreo. But the world was not a cookie.
— Roshani Chokshi, Aru Shah and the Tree of Wishes