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PostPosted: 18 Jul 2018, 07:59 
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Fust thing y'all need to know 'bout giggin is a snake's eyes is green."

The first time Fillmore went, he was around my age. Gigged a snake and flipped it into the boat. It loosed its tines, did barrel rolls, hissed and twisted until he and his uncle started whacking at it with oars
until they split a seam and capsized.

He is a colored man, a day laborer for my father, and Pop pays him to do things like this or take me on my paper route every Tuesday. Pop didn't care much for the colored,but being a Baptist and a pillar of the community, he thought it'd look good.
I loved Fillmore


Fillmore didn't care. "I do just bout anything Mr. Harry say. "

On this night, I'm 13 and never killed nothing yet.
The bulls come out right about sunset, lay in under the bank, their bulbous bodies are suspended under water so only their eyes can be seen.

You float along real quiet and shine a spot light in their eyes ."It stunts 'em so you can float right up on "em
gig ' em just below the chin".

You eat the legs. A full grown bull measures at ten inches from nose to toes, and can hit a nine foot leap.

The "gig" is a three pronged spear thing, looks like that cartoon where the devil is on one shoulder whispering into an ear
pitchfork jutting upright, and an angel on the other shoulder.

We leave just at day break, two burlap sacks of legs.

Mama rolls them in flour and fries then in hot Wesson oil. Pop says they taste like chicken, but Ill nevet eat one.
The heat makes muscle and sinew contract,legs start moving a little, then jerk violently, almost coming out of the pan, like a reptile hung by prongs, writhing, eyes dialated in terror, willing to see its own body break in two rather than be caught.


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PostPosted: 18 Jul 2018, 09:44 
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Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
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Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Brilliant,
pure Huckleberry Finn.


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PostPosted: 19 Jul 2018, 00:37 
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Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
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Enjoyed as well...


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PostPosted: 19 Jul 2018, 10:43 
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Joined: 01 Jun 2008, 09:17
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Thanks guys.Certainly not my best work. It's harder to write a true event poem than to just make one up, I think.


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PostPosted: 20 Jul 2018, 20:06 
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Joined: 23 Mar 2014, 11:27
Posts: 457
Nice poem.

_________________
meenas17


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PostPosted: 20 Jul 2018, 20:31 
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Joined: 01 Jun 2008, 09:17
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Thank you meenas


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PostPosted: 29 Jul 2018, 02:34 
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Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
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Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Ken, another contender in my eyes
but can you sort out the line lengths.


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PostPosted: 29 Jul 2018, 18:57 
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Joined: 01 Jun 2008, 09:17
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I have a revision to do on this.
Maybe next month


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PostPosted: 29 Jul 2018, 19:34 
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Joined: 14 May 2011, 20:30
Posts: 881
and fries then --a typo

Enjoyed reading this. I almost want to write one like this.

S


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PostPosted: 30 Jul 2018, 02:58 
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Ty Siva


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PostPosted: 03 Aug 2018, 19:17 
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Joined: 24 Mar 2018, 16:53
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Nice detail, I think I’m now well prepared to go gigging.


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PostPosted: 04 Aug 2018, 23:26 
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Siva, Dale. Thank you


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PostPosted: 10 Aug 2018, 09:51 
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Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
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Location: Between the mountains and the sea
I hope you will edit line lengths ready for the end of month Ken.
I hope this will goto the IBPC this month.


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PostPosted: 10 Aug 2018, 18:08 
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Joined: 01 Jun 2008, 09:17
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Frank ,Idk exactly what your suggestion is


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PostPosted: 10 Aug 2018, 21:07 
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Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
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Location: Between the mountains and the sea
I thought you had a problem with your phone.
If you are ahappy and intend this spacing and line length, then so be it.


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PostPosted: 11 Aug 2018, 01:00 
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Joined: 01 Jun 2008, 09:17
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I am not happy with thr poem and intend a major revision


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PostPosted: 11 Aug 2018, 02:12 
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Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
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Location: Between the mountains and the sea
I can mess about with the lines if you like
I think it's great. I don't think you should
change much. It's original, interesting,
and a very good voice. A voice you
could develop in other poems.
It's uniquely American, kind of Appalachian,
of a certain time in US history.


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PostPosted: 11 Aug 2018, 03:25 
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Sure. Id like to see that


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PostPosted: 11 Aug 2018, 11:13 
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Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
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Location: Between the mountains and the sea
["]Fust thing y'all need to know 'bout giggin
is a snake's eyes is green." The first time Fillmore went,
he was around my age. Gigged a snake and flipped
it into the boat. It loosed its tines, did barrel rolls,
hissed and twisted until he and his uncle started
whacking at it with oars [de ore or the ores or his ores]
until they split a seam and capsized.

He is a colored man, a day laborer for my father, [He's coloured, a day labourer . . . for my pa]]
and Pop pays him to do things like this or take [cut the 'and' at beginning of sentence]
me on my paper route every Tuesday. Pop didn't
care much for the colored, but being a Baptist [maybe: for coloured folk]
and a pillar of the community, he thought it'd look good.
I loved Fillmore. [maybe loved is too much to admit, maybe 'thought the world' of something else - your choice]

Fillmore didn't care. "I do just bout anything Mr. Harry say." ['bout] [says?]
On this night, I'm 13[,] and never killed nothing yet.
The bulls come out right about sunset, lay in under the bank,
their bulbous bodies are suspended under water

[this line lapses into standard English maybe:
. . . lay under the bank,
bulbous bodies suspended under the water]
so only their eyes can be seen. [pops out de water]

You float along real quiet and shine a spot light in their eyes .
"It stunts 'em so you can float right up on "em [you mean stuns 'em?]
gig ' em just below the chin".
["It stuns 'em so you can float right up on 'em,
gig 'em just under de chin".]

You eat the legs. A full grown bull [measures at] is ten inches
from nose to toes, and can hit a nine foot leap.
The "gig" is a three pronged spear thing, looks
like that cartoon where the devil is on one shoulder
whispering into an ear, pitchfork jutting upright,
and an angel on the other shoulder.

We leave just at day break, two burlap sacks of legs.
Mama rolls them in flour and fries then in hot Wesson
oil. Pop says they taste like chicken, but Ill nevet eat
one. The heat makes muscle and sinew contract,
legs start moving a little, then jerk violently,
almost coming out of the pan, like a reptile hung
by prongs, writhing, eyes dialated in terror, willing
to see its own body break in two rather than be caught.

You may still feel the need to tinker, but please not too much.
There are some marvelous passages in there and images.
I could not write this because its not my experience.


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PostPosted: 11 Aug 2018, 13:12 
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Joined: 14 May 2011, 20:30
Posts: 881
Kenneth
I prefer the prose poem format. That definitely reads better.

S


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PostPosted: 11 Aug 2018, 22:51 
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Joined: 01 Jun 2008, 09:17
Posts: 627
Frank. Thank you for your generosity. I see edits Ill incorporate in my revision.

Siva, I appreciate it. I think it needs pruning


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