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12+ Violence

Butcher

by EKK15


The table was covered in the blood

Of past victims left at the knife,

The long knife given to me from you,

Before you used it to chop me into pieces.

Where do the remains go?

In the slop bucket left out in the rain,

The snow, the sun, the wind.

Forgot what you meant when you said you promised

I forgot what it felt like to be punched.

Alone, left with nothing but the comfort of cold,

And the awaiting of the butcher,

To cut, strip skin, leave the rest to rot

On the side of the brick building,

And sell the other parts for some small profit. 

  

You work so hard with little thanks,

Toiling nonstop in the wet heat,

The airless dark.

   

I picture you as the type of kid

On the side of the pavement

Poking at a dead squirrels body

With a distorted sense of fascination.

    

Let the red rain settle,

Cover the snow with someone’s blood

Split chalice of wine, with a more metallic taste.

The knife was silver,

It's blade long,

And the hand that held it,

Too cold.

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364 Reviews

Points: 15980
Reviews: 364

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Sat Dec 30, 2017 5:44 pm
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zaminami wrote a review...



Hello EKK15! Kara here for a (hopefully) quick review!

Give me your soul.

With that aside, I'm not the best at poetry but here we go!

Bold = grammar and flow issues.
Italics = suggestions and overall
Strikethrough = remove
Underline = krazy Kara komments.

Spoiler! :
The table was covered in the blood

Of past victims left at the knife,

The long knife given to me from you,

Before you used it to chop me into pieces.

Where do the remains go?

In the slop bucket left out in the rain,

The snow, the sun, the wind{?}

Forgot what you meant when you said {that} you promised

I forgot what it felt like to be punched.

Alone, left with nothing but the comfort of cold,

And the awaiting of the butcher,

To cut, strip skin, {to} leave the rest to rot

On the side of the brick building,

And sell the other parts for some small profit.



You work so hard with little thanks,

Toiling nonstop in the wet heat,

The airless dark.



I picture you as the type of kid

On the side of the pavement

Poking at a dead squirrel{'}s body

With a distorted sense of fascination. {.... uh I was that kid}



Let the red rain settle,

Cover the snow with someone’s blood {**C3PO possesses DG** How rude}

Split chalice of wine, with a more metallic taste.

The knife was silver,

It's blade long,

And the hand that held it,

Too cold.


My interpretation:



ummmmm I don't think that I want to interpret this? I think it's about someone who had betrayed you -- which has happened quite a lot to me and I write about quite a lot.

Overall:



I liked it, but this isn't one of your stronger poetry. I would recommend putting more imagery in and, like Joe said, more length would benefit it quite well. Great job and keep up the great work!

Why haven’t you given me your soul yet? --

Kara

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27 Reviews

Points: 965
Reviews: 27

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Sat Dec 30, 2017 3:27 am
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JoeBookman wrote a review...



Oh man.

Ohhh man.

I'm a gruesome dude and this is a gruesome poem.

Where do the remains go?

In the slop bucket left out in the rain


When I read that line, I could taste it in my mouth. Nothing is more nauseating than soaking, rancid meat. The rest of the poem didn't disappoint; you consistently delivered on imagery, and it was all dark and quality.

I'd honestly say the work might benefit from more length. There's a piece of writing advice out there that I'm sure can be attributed to somebody, but it basically goes: "Imagine your perfect audience. Now, write for them."
I can't imagine your perfect audience for you, but I can say that as someone who enjoyed this poem, I would have enjoyed even more of it. I felt like I was just getting sucked in when it stopped. Adding more meat to the bones of the poem (mind the pun) could help to satiate that empty feeling it left me with (that pun, too).

Speaking of ending--

The knife was silver,

It's blade long,

And the hand that held it,

Too cold.


These words, as a finale, were fantastic. Whatever you do, I would personally keep this as it is. The capitalization isn't such a big deal if you decide to change that, but I'm a fan of both the language, how the lines are cut, and how you punctuated. It has a good flow and a nice punch to it.

This is my kind of work. I'll be following you in hopes of more. Great job, and keep writing.

Joe





Doors are for people with no imagination.
— Skulduggery Pleasant