z

Young Writers Society



Deleted 73

by Lumi


Deleted at author's request.


Note: You are not logged in, but you can still leave a comment or review. Before it shows up, a moderator will need to approve your comment (this is only a safeguard against spambots). Leave your email if you would like to be notified when your message is approved.







Is this a review?


  

Comments



User avatar
117 Reviews


Points: 6987
Reviews: 117

Donate
Thu Dec 29, 2016 10:57 pm
JosephGeorge wrote a review...



Hey Lumi, here for a Review Day review,

Positives:Such a unique piece. I usually don't like prose style poetry because it feels blocky and not very clean, but this one's great!

[quote]I dust the face of an unnamed knockout punch, wonder who was prouder of the moment: the boxer, or the last American photographer who didn't need a stage."

This, for me, really just sums up the entire feel of being a boxer, or even just living during the times of the Great Depression. Rocky and Cinderella Man come to mind. But the photographer is a really nice touch. It's such an insignificant and useless character, yet they are the ones that take that one snapshot the literally changes the world. I almost feel like you've brought the rookie photo taking fool out of his obscure existence and dropped him into a world where he gets to duke it out with the best of them. It was cool to watch.

Negatives:To be honest, there's nothing negative about this one. Being that you've done something so original, it's hard to say anything against it, unless you were to ask specific questions about what I think. Job well done, in my opinion.

I give it:

ImageImageImageImage


Joseph Henry George




User avatar
1081 Reviews


Points: 220
Reviews: 1081

Donate
Mon Dec 05, 2016 5:30 pm
View Likes
Virgil wrote a review...



This is Kaos here for a review!


You did it again.

The "packed bed" phrasing feels a little awkward, but that's something that's minor. Another thing that I wanted to touch on was, what is the unnamed knockout punch? Is it a picture frame, is it in a photo album? I like your third line in this poem because it brings a lot of weight behind it with the boxer who seemed to want fame but the photographer who needed none at all. The story or narrative behind this is interesting and it honestly reminds me of Fight Club especially with the boxing and the identity crisis so I don't know if you pulled any inspiration from that or not.

The last line doesn't really make sense and I don't know if this is a phrasing mistake or your choice of wording but it doesn't really hold the power that it could; it's going in the right direction. The narrative is something that has a lot of open ends because after the first stanza it isn't really touched on as much, and that's something that I kind of wanted. I like the open ends but I wanted more connections between the first stanza and the rest of the poem. You give us more of a set-up in the first stanza of where this took place and everything concrete but the other two are more liquid in that they can be interpreted in different ways.

My first thought is that these two were the same people, but it's confusing as to who would be who. It could even be that the speaker is the second identity. Another thing I wanted to touch on is how the photographer and the boxer relate to the rest of the poem, and how the narrator relates to this. I was thinking that the narrator could be the photographer as well and then the boxer is trying to rip their way back into the life of the narrator, but I don't quite know, and that's why I like the open ends but at the same time I want to know what your original story or intentions were for this piece.

The second stanza is the most subtle in the piece with the delusions line, but at the same time, I didn't really like the second as much as I didn't really see "furrow their eyebrows" which is something that probably only doesn't fit with me with the rest of the atmosphere that you set up. The atmosphere that you create with this is a strength of the poem but I kind of wanted more packed-bags-moving-away tone or feel to it.

Beautiful poem. I hope I helped!




User avatar
696 Reviews


Points: 5533
Reviews: 696

Donate
Mon Dec 05, 2016 5:17 pm
View Likes
Audy wrote a review...



Lums,

I want to get the technical out of the way:

First, "knockout punch" seems so odd here, HOWEVER it could be because I am clueless when it comes to wrestling/boxing terms, so take with a grain of salt that I could possibly be missing something. But even with my cluelessness I find it odd and hard to believe that the term for the person/champion/boxer should be "knockout punch" when it seems more the term for the move. Yet, the context of the line and the words surrounding the line (dusting off the face of an unamed...) allude to the PERSON not the move. Hence, odd. Even with potential room for metaphorcal/syntactical liberties taken into account, I still get caught up with that in my readings.

Also the "rip" in "rip your way back into my skin" I find it a good placeholder word, but rip fails to convey something for me here and kind of pulls me out of the sentiment. I would suggest something more subtle, less dramatic to go with the rest of the poem --but this suggestion is a factor of taste and you can ignore it per your own judgement. The " back into" is what bothers the image, really. We can sink our way into things, drift our way into things, metaphorically we can 'seep' our way inside of things. Ripping into things feels forced, the verb is more of a desperate way of getting OUT of things, like ripping apart bills to not pay them or ripping papers out of frustration, anger or denial-- it is the breaking of things....Which. I do like the suggestion of breaking things in the context of this, the feelings in general of denial and anguish, but it feels the weaker word as it is not really able to suggest both breaking and seeping actions. I wonder if there's a word that can suggest breaking whilst falling into, that would be super ideal. I can't think right now c: but we can chat it over!

Envalue - not a word. Perhaps "add value" ..(?)

All of this is small stuff. My first reaction upon reading is the narrator's notice of such small, imperceptible details such as a blue-screened photo and my own SHARED feelings and associations attached to it was hella. The association of jazz and bluescreen and 1970s Chicago feels so apt, it's like a "get-outta-my-head" moment. That was really cool.

But moreso this gut-clenching reaction for me repeats further down with the self-doubts "are we allowed to envalue (I read it as: add value to... our own delusions" and I felt a horrifying sensation as if I were the speaker, because those private thoughts feel as though they were fished out of my head and stamped onto the page and ughh, here ignites my love for poetry, as if I needed the reminder, you!

Let's talk about that last stanza as it seems to unpack and unravel everything that came before it. Actually...


Let's talk the poem as a whole because the lead-up is so paramount. We enter this poem on a packed bed, but the packedness of the bed in hindsight doesn't add much, though as I'm writing this, I do dig the idea that the scatter-thought, disorganized, kind of hoarder of past thoughts and memories WOULD have a packed bed, but it feels like not much else is elaborated or contributing to that particular idea because the image of the packed bed disappears so soon after it appears so I can't enjoy it as such.

A line to recall it back, to acknowledge the idea or another line to add to it, or even a more poignant word to savor besides "packed" so as to highlight it, could be so cool :o oh wait. I promised no more tech-speak. So moving on.

The boxer photo. It lingers on this. And not just lingers but the poem celebrates the "boxer". The boxer in this poem takes upon that same significance of a Gatsby-esque green-light symbolic delusion of idealism and dreams, but whereas in Gatsby the green light/red light traffic car accident is so poignantly symmetrical, I read this poem wondering "why boxers?"

I dun get it. I am so out of touch. I get what this symbolizes and means to the narrator -it being a memory and a mood and an image tied to emotions&feels but it bothers me this image could stand in place for anything. A picture of apollo moon landing, or Hugh Jackman, but to the narrator it's not just anything, it's boxing in particular. To me, as ONE reader, I don't feel this, why in particular is it boxing, so a disconnect. The stanza by itself would be fine if not for the titlepiece making me anguish over its analysis. Boxing is cool though says the non-editor part of me.

Now. Delusions is interesting. It makes me question what comes before, it makes me relate and nodd my head because I know that feeling deep down. And it gives me a moment to care more profoundly.

Is this the narrator speaking to this other person which whom they share such a profound moment of bonding, only to then question back over their relationship and harken it as delusions? And if so, there's heavy implication that suggests a romantic relationship (though I suppose friendships CAN be delusional). It could also be the "other" person with the delusions, as though their wanting to connect to the speaker in a different way than was possible or consented, and the conflict of the speaker wanting to bond & experience but not so much wanting to self-delude and so that ending. That falling out. That reality. That aftermath. That consequences. All things negative about ourselves and our fears played out to bad endings and our flaws and insecurities take another win.

Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.





They laugh at me because I'm different; I laugh at them because they're all the same.
— Kurt Cobain