Hidden codes and skeleton keys
unlocking your ribcage
to get to her heart.
Vertebrae rope holds her body together
while I claim my prize
and all it took was a little bit of love.
Selling organs on the black market
cutting a hole in the side of my stomach
to keep the third kidney for myself.
Stealing hearts
only to sell them away again
for double the prize.
In unknown languages
the frogs outside my window croak
but there's no demand for a frog heart.
On the subway,
I hold a pair of lungs.
Sealed in a plastic container wrapped in layers of duct tape
and I am hoping they were not lying when they advertised,
"It keeps things fresh."
Nothing fits. In an alley I
listen to lungs and remind
myself to breathe in a cadence
I can no longer call my own.
I am patchwork-stitches
quilted in my skin,
not sure if I am "me".
Or if this amalgamation of lifethreads
should ever be called under one name,
or perhaps that name should be "Chaos."
Substitute my marrow,
hook me up to The Machine.
Darkened streets lit by the light
of an operating table lamp,
stroboscopic with moths
fluttering like heart palpitations.
NOTE: I did not write the whole poem, and to point it out I wrote the first three stanzas, Sachiko wrote the fourth, and fortis wrote the last two (There was a Poetry Jam where you wrote for other peoples' poems).
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
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Original Text:
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125,024 Literary Works • 672,762 Reviews
Hey Kaos, so here's my critique on this poem we talked about forever ago.
I think the thing I like the most about it is the flow of words and the way that language is manipulated. I like how the ideas of these objects work towards the description of a person put together with things they give up so quickly, and I find it comforting, in a way, that they feel like taking time out of that to look at other tings. Mostly, I'm talking about the frog.
Overall, since you didn't write the whole poem, I can't say I'm going to be able to suggest edits, but if you do want to write a poem like this yourself, and only with yourself, I think the techniques you should try to keep are the tone of voice, which is created through the conversational style, and the observation of self while describing things in simplistic, yet exacting manners. "Substitute my marrow" is one line that draws my interest because this creates a sense of the mathematical precision that happens in replacing one thing for another, while also bringing in something very human, marrow.
Focus on capturing that sense of self, and self deprecation, self identification, and awareness of connotation within your own poem and I think you'll do wonderfully. The more you strive to write like other people, the easier it will be for you to access that tone, and sense of voice when you want to utilize it in a poem. It's a good thing to see how styles mesh together too because this poem is seamless between the three voices.
Keep playing!
I'm honestly not sure what to think about this poem. I definitely like it. I'm just not sure what to think about it. From how I understand it, the narrator of the poem is an amalgamation of parts that they have stolen, kind of like a homonculus. However, my one critique is that I can tell that this was written by different people without you even making the note. Something doesn't flow right between the stanzas. I think a blending of your styles would have helped you guys out, but very cool nevertheless.