Dispatches From The Front (disturbing content)

[Kenneth2816]

Two in the morning and the upstairs
neighbors are at it again. It's too hard
to tell who's ahead, for the enemy
is not flesh and blood, but the Prince
of the powers of the air.
It does no good to complain.

I think of you drunk, hair an apostasy
of tangles, screaming always screaming
how you wish I was dead, wish you
we're dead, everybody dead.

I watch in slow motion, my hand
unlatch from its trunk, slice
the short air between us
strike you full in the face.

You puddled into the carpet,
me sinking with you wanting to fix it all,
like a panicked child refitting
the pieces of a broken vase.

I wanted to cut off my hand, plant
it in the garden so you could prune
the fingers back each season.
I wanted to tear my eyes
out and give them to you all the while
knowing you had it coming.

[Bernie01]

Ken---

vicious. topical.

prune---cover the action like a prize fight reporter not a sociologist. keep the action clean, stark and violent. present tense. remember, the reader knows everything about this story except one thing---the final 5 words of this poem.



the upstairs
neighbors are fighting.


Killing each other. Again.


at it again. It's too hard
to tell who's ahead, for the enemy
is not flesh and blood, but the Prince
of the powers of the air.

this tells me nothing concrete, provides no image and burns the amount of time a reader will give a poem.


It does no good to complain.

excellent.


I think of you drunk, hair an apostasy
of tangles, screaming always screaming
how you wish I was dead, wish you
we're dead, everybody dead.


informs and moves quickly, easily understood by the casual reader. remember, your competition is not other poets, but the Channel 7 news with daily reports of domestic violence.



I watch in slow motion, my hand
slices the short air between us.

I strike you full in the face.

You puddled into the carpet,
me sinking with you wanting to fix it all,
like a panicked child refitting
the pieces of a broken vase.

I want to cut off my hand, plant
it in the garden so you could prune
the fingers back each season.

I wanted to tear my eyes
out and give them to you all the while
knowing you had it coming.


that last 5 words. great. the irony, the menace. the speaker is no longer a character in an anti-domestic violence film. the battering husband, his unrepentant final stance.



bernie


the upstairs
neighbors are fighting.


Killing each other. Again.

It does no good to complain.

I think of you drunk, hair an apostasy
of tangles, screaming always screaming
you wish I was dead, wish you we're dead,
everybody dead.


I watch in slow motion, my hand
slices the short air between us.

I strike you full in the face.

You puddle into the carpet,
I sink with you wanting to fix it all,
a panicked child refitting
the pieces of a broken vase.

I want to cut off my hand, plant
it in the garden so you can prune
the fingers back each season.

I want to tear my eyes out,
give them to you
knowing you had it coming.

[Kenneth2816]

You're cotrect about the sociologost.I volunteer at a shelter.

It's cyclical. The battering followed by the honeymoon period.

I've read a lot of poetry on DV from victims.
I wanted to portray an abuser.

Thank you as always Bernie.

[FranktheFrank]

I think there is a poem in there, it's just so over the top
a long catalogue of violence with no let up,
I don't see the honeymoon period at all.

The Prince of the air - the devil could be dropped - he's not needed here

I think if you cut back really hard to bare bones, dropped a couple of stanzas
then ended with the honeymoon couple, it would work well
certainly needs telling.

These kind of people don't really know what they are doing
so inured to violence
they think it is normal
well they don't think at all.

[Kenneth2816]

Thanks guys. I've always believed a poem that needs further explanation fails.