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Forums > > Poetry Workshops > > Post a Poem > > Little Room
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Little Room


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greygrynn
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PostPosted: Sat Sep 6 13:47:52 EDT 2008    Post subject: Little Room Reply with quote

Speedy Gonzales-eared chrome handles,
splay out from swan neck faucet aimed
down into bland, stainless steel sink.

Alone it sits in HMO blue Formica counter top
and waits, cold dead, ready, encased in plain,
cadaver brain tan pine cabinetry.

Prosaic four caster stool, chrome tube base,
rolled softly into a corner, crowned with
burnt parchment naugahyde seat.

How many learn the next rent check due
out lives them? Some how, they soldier on.

How many families grow by one, while others,
rote march on, wombs iron cold,
Martian flat soda water calm?

Antiseptic snake-fills purple-red veins.
Down in seconds – Sleeping brown bear
drugged dreams aplenty.

Tear massive chest open and quad-bypass
sheet-rock still ruby rubber sack.
Morphine-drip back with pain,
murmuring, cajoling, imploring.

Fly, welded-fin, Exocet missile true,
unconcerned, unchanged, uncomprehending,
allow not belief to interlude “live forever” lie.

Sleep-shuffle-waltz lasted, two past one decade,
two quarts of grey-white ash and Michigan’s
steel-cold ground holds one more again.

Your sister misses you,
Off-Line for the end of time.
But no, ghost can’t read – Just whisper.

Pat’s top of head, I a lad just past seven “It’ll be ok”.
Taught how not to judge, a lesson easy-failed often.
Master’s degrees and school aplenty,
yet they came to his lips freely.

Stress burns away, blue-white smoke curling.
Drowns in his own lung fluid,
body lost fight with grey-white fraud.
Dead ears never-hear “Good Bye”
live lips utter in vain.

Plain, brain-tan door scusses open.
“Lab-Coat” strides in, eyes aflame
with his love of what he does.

Smooth, kind face speaks volumes,
Could tell he rarely says,
“You’re not going to make it”

Formal-danced around how “Great Health”
is a gift and your charts look just grand.
Back into the flesh blue ocean I swim.

Guilt, arrogance and pain, Interlocked shackles,
dull-numbs truth next century’s not mine.
Gentle slide to grey-red oblivion continues on.

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Last edited by greygrynn on Mon Sep 8 14:23:49 EDT 2008; edited 3 times in total
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HSTeech
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PostPosted: Sat Sep 6 21:08:01 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

Wow grey, there are many powerful images in here. S9-12 were the clearest and most relateable for me. "next century's not mine" was great too.

What kind of response are you looking for here?
Teech

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greygrynn
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PostPosted: Sun Sep 7 12:41:51 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

HSTeech - Thank you for the comments! Very Happy I'm just looking for how it reads. Are the shifts in this piece ok? I might move this one to Page Stage. However, if there's anything here that could be tightened up
I'd appreciate it! Smile

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PostPosted: Sun Sep 7 20:26:59 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

I do dig this poem, Grey. In the beginning though, I had to work pretty hard and read slowly until I figured out what was going on. Then it smooths itself out. Things aren't as cryptic towards the end either.

Speedy Gonzales-eared<<<<a mouthful

incased<<<s/b Encased

What is exocet?

Quote:
How many families grow by one, while others,
rote march on, wombs iron cold,
Martian soda water calm?

Huh? This stanza threw me. martian soda water calm? Soda water is bubbly- not calm. I'm lost.

So, take what you want and leave the rest. Proceed to checkout if you like! Smile
Teech

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www.artemisrising.org/

Recipe for a poem by Thom Ward:
One dash syllable, One dash silence, One dash clarity, One dash mystery, One dash - the ineffable..
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greygrynn
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PostPosted: Sun Sep 7 21:19:47 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

HSTeech - Now I understand!, Great observations one and all! Very Happy
a) I couldn't resist the image of the hero in an old Hanna Barbara cartoon "Speedy Gonzales"

b) thanks a million for catching the typo - will fix it now (See Edit Above)

c) Exocet is a French anti ship missile - I can modify it with something more identifiable

d) yes - this one is def cryptic due to the Martian reference. I was trying to incoorp the discovery of water on one of Mar's moons

Again - Thanks a million! Very Happy

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PostPosted: Sun Sep 7 23:38:21 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

no, do not change exocet, i am used to seeing these words in your poems. nice piece, R.
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greygrynn
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PostPosted: Mon Sep 8 14:22:24 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

mamta - LOL OK-OK lets change it back! Very Happy

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PostPosted: Mon Sep 8 23:19:10 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

lol.........
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PostPosted: Tue Sep 9 0:53:56 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

Air fights are big struggles. What types are your airflights. Which nations/
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PostPosted: Wed Sep 10 13:42:36 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

very different style wise from what i've seen here

and soda water can be calm if it is flat-i took martian flat to imply that stereo typical image we've adopted-------------can't draw it here-lol
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greygrynn
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PostPosted: Fri Sep 19 10:24:45 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

lash570 wrote:
very different style wise from what i've seen here

and soda water can be calm if it is flat-i took martian flat to imply that stereo typical image we've adopted-------------can't draw it here-lol

Thanks Lash for your comments - Was out of town workin my "Day-Job"
so kinda late getting back to this - That was my intention with this line in its original form. Smile

catchy3 - Thanks for you comment also, could you elaborate? Wink

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PostPosted: Tue Sep 23 15:06:14 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

Very small edits version 01

Speedy Gonzales-eared chrome handles,
splay out from swan-neck faucet aimed
down into bland, stainless steel sink.

Alone it sits, in HMO blue Formica counter top,
and waits, cold, dead, ready, encased in plain,
cadaver brain tan pine cabinetry.

Prosaic four caster stool, chrome tube base,
rolls softly in corner, crowned with
burnt parchment naugahyde seat.

How many learn next rent check due
will out live them? Some how, they soldier on.
How many families grow by one, while others,
rote march on, wombs iron cold,
Martian soda water calm?

Anesthetic snake-fills purple-red veins.
Down in seconds – Sleeping brown bear
drugged dreams aplenty.

Tear massive chest open and quad-bypass
sheet-rock still ruby rubber sack.
Morphine-drip back with pain,
murmuring, cajoling, imploring.

Fly, welded-fin, Exocet missile true,
unconcerned, unchanged, uncomprehending,
allow not belief to interlude “live forever” lie.

Sleep-shuffle-waltz last two past one decade.
Two quarts of grey-white ash and Michigan’s
steel-cold ground holds one more again.

Your sister misses you,
Off-Line for the end of time.
But no, ghost can’t read – Just whisper.

Gently pat’s top of my seven year old head.
“It’ll be ok”. Taught me not to judge,
a lesson easy-failed often.

Master’s degrees and school aplenty,
yet they came to his lips freely. Stress
burns away in the bright orange day
blue-white smoke curling.

Drowns in his own lung fluid, body losing
its fight with the grey-white fraud.
Dead ears never-hear “Good Bye”
live lips whisper in vain.

Plain, brain-tan door schusses open.
“Lab-Coat” strides in, eyes aflame
with his love of what he doing.

Smooth, kind face speaks volumes.
Can tell he rarely says,
“You’re not going to make it”.

Formal-dance around how “Great Health”
is a gift and your charts look just grand.
Back into the flesh blue ocean I swim.

Guilt, arrogance and pain, interlocked shackles,
dull-numbs truth next century’s not mine.
Gentle slide to grey-red oblivion continues on.

_________________
Reading makes a Writer reach/stretch to be better than the day before
Karma: 293.25

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loisseau
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PostPosted: Tue Sep 23 16:30:38 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

Grey, after three readings, I'm not so sure I understand this completely. Some great phrases here, some obscure ones too-" Sleep-shuffle-waltz last two past one decade." is time but what? "Sleeping brown bear drugged dreams aplenty. Tear massive chest open and quad-bypass sheet-rock still ruby rubber sack." Is this a large man? The heart description has too many modifiers, making it less clear and effective. The time line before through me off, could be bear years. Later in the poem it seems it's about the prospect of death. Can you help me out here?

"Speedy Gonzales-eared chrome handles," could be "Chrome handles, like Speedy Gonzales' ears," reads smoother.

Enjoyed this piece.

L.
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greygrynn
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PostPosted: Wed Sep 24 7:05:21 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

Loisseau - Thanks a million for your great comments.
a) Sleep.. yup, was refering to 12 years .. human will place back and rework work with "lasted"
b) He was a very large man.
c) No - It's def about death and in human years

I'll def look at what you've found with this one, again thanks! Smile

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greygrynn
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PostPosted: Wed Sep 24 9:10:50 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

OK - Revision 02

Chrome handles, like Speedy Gonzales-ears,
splay out from swan-neck faucet aimed
down into bland, stainless steel sink.

Alone it sits, in HMO blue Formica counter top,
and waits, cold, dead, ready, encased in plain,
cadaver brain tan pine cabinetry.

Prosaic four caster stool, chrome tube base,
rolls softly in corner, crowned with
burnt parchment naugahyde seat.

How many learn, their next rent check due,
will out live them? Some how, they soldier on.
How many families grow by one, while others,
rote march on, wombs iron cold,
Martian soda water calm?

Anesthetic snake-fills purple-red veins.
Down in seconds – Sleeping brown bear man,
drugged dreams aplenty.

Tear massive chest open and,
quad-bypass ruby-red rubber sack.
Morphine-drip back with pain,
murmuring, cajoling, imploring.

Fly, welded-fin, Exocet missile true,
unconcerned, unchanged, uncomprehending,
allow not belief to interlude “live forever” lie.

Sleep-shuffle-waltz ends, twelve years later.
Two quarts of grey-white ash and Michigan’s
steel-cold ground holds one more again.

Your sister misses you,
Off-Line for the end of time.
But no, ghost can’t read – Just whisper.

Gently pat’s top of my seven year old head.
“It’ll be ok”. Taught me not to judge,
a lesson easy-failed often.

Master’s degrees and school aplenty,
yet they came to his lips freely. Stress
burns away in the bright orange day,
blue-white smoke gently curling.

Drowns in own lung fluid, body losing
its fight with the grey-white fraud.
Dead ears never-hear “Good Bye”.
Our lips whisper in vain.

Plain, brain-tan door schusses open.
“Lab-Coat” strides in, eyes aflame
with his love of what he doing.

Smooth, kind face speaks volumes.
Can tell he rarely says,
“You’re not going to make it”.

Formal-dance around how “Great Health”
is a gift and your charts look just grand.
Back into the flesh blue ocean I swim.

Guilt, arrogance and pain, interlocked shackles,
dull-numbs truth next century’s not mine.
Gentle slide to grey-red oblivion continues on.

_________________
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Karma: 293.25

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greygrynn
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PostPosted: Fri Sep 26 6:29:37 EDT 2008    Post subject: Re: Little Room Reply with quote

Thanks everyone for all of your help! Smile

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