z

Young Writers Society



Throat Muscles

by xanthan gum


The subject came up about rehab, whilst
I swallowed sour pills long fermenting in
your sidestreet pockets,
And you said "If only I was there, to change the way
it happened, I would still
believe I could save you."

Your hands flutter to stopper my thrashing veins, and I
grow chilled, grow disappointed, like the tiles
of the bathroom that always witnessed the
beginning of the undoing, the first molt of gossamer wings.
For you were to be the best drug dealer in the world,
yet more self-sacrificing than Jesus, lashed to the
splinted cross of my addiction.

But none of your powders and plants, not so much
as one sickly pill could possibly empty my synapses
of the knowledge that my own savior
was as quickly killing me.


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Sat Apr 11, 2009 9:53 pm
Jasmine Hart wrote a review...



This flows well and the imagery is good. I especially like;

"sour pills long fermenting in

your sidestreet pockets",

"Your hands flutter to stopper my thrashing veins, "

and

"splinted cross of my addiction."

However, I think it would be more powerful if you tighten it up a little. Some parts are a little weak, and I think they drag the poem down a bit. For example;

"And you said "If only I was there, to change the way

it happened, I would still

believe I could save you." "

"beginning of the undoing",

"my own savior"

and

"killing me"

have all become cliche at this point, and your poem will be more powerful if you can think on ways more personal to you to describe these things, and relate them in detail.

I'd also cut unnecessary words, such as;

"so much

as "

and

"possibly ".

Try to keep it concise. I read somewhere, I forget where, that since poets only have a certain amount of space to make their point in, they need to ensure that every single word is contributing to making their point.

Hope this helps.

Jas




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Sat Apr 11, 2009 7:07 pm
Kylan wrote a review...



xanthan gum --

This doesn't really excite me all that much. It was well written enough, but I think that in the end, your word choice and moral got in the way of things. I don't like the allusion to Jesus Christ at all -- not because it is offensive, but it seems out-of-place and tired. The Christ story is one we are all familiar with, but making connections to it in literature is out-dated and overused. I would consider expressing the same sentiments, but on a more personal level, less nobly. I want to connect to what you're saying on a day-to-day plane, rather than on a high-minded religious one. Also, words like "savior" and "addiction" are used in every other sappy love song. Remove them. Replace them with something better. Phrases here like "sour pills" and "sidestreet pockets" are fantastic. I want more of this poem to be patterned after the first stanza, which managed to carry me through to the end. The second and third verses grow progressively less appealing.

Anyway, PM me with a revised version, if you so choose.

-Kylan




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Fri Apr 10, 2009 3:58 pm
sopher wrote a review...



Hello!

I agree, this poem is so powerful! You've really managed to write about drug addiction (so often written about!) in a way that strikes the reader as totally unique. I think this is because of the religious/sacrificial motif you've put in there, or the ambiguosity of the drugs/the drug dealer as both saviour and killer.

I think the offbeat line scheme is effective to, how the paragraps its not perfectly symmtrical.

Anyway, i like it!




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Fri Apr 10, 2009 12:28 pm
KnightlyAngel09 wrote a review...



Hello. Oh, we have the same signature. The Latin part at least.

Slight typo on the second to the last line. I believe you mean savior and not savoir.

Anyway, this is quite a powerful poem. It has an excellent voice. The way you wrote it made it sound so personal and thus more powerful. Great word choices as well for everything and overall, Brilliant poetry.

Keep writing.

Carpe Diem.

--Knightly





The day, which was one of the first of spring, cheered even me by the loveliness of its sunshine and the balminess of the air. I felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of these sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them, and forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy.
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein