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PostPosted: 24 Jul 2018, 06:09 
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Joined: 14 May 2011, 20:30
Posts: 881
(for Amy Elizabeth Jones)


Twilight is the song Amy sang
and we were heads huddled together.

I loathed pot, everything to do with it
preferred the scalding heat of the local bidi.
I fled to the window-ledge,
wearing my Papa's lungi.

‘Thief, thief!'’ Amy, with her high girl's voice
screamed.
I fled, the tip of the lungi in my hands
it covered my scuffed knees,
I looked a boy the night Sister Michael
interrupted our reverie.

All the girls chased after me
till I fell into Sister Michael's bosom.




-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I loathed pot and everything to do with it
preferring the scalding heat of the local bidi.

I fled to the window like an asthmatic to escape fumes,
wore my Papa's lungi, a lose shirt that covered even
my scuffed knees, looked like a boy when Sister Michael
shone her flashlight into our room, interrupting our reverie.

Amy with her high girl's voice screamed,
‘Thief, thief!'’
I fled, the tip of the lungi in my hands.

All the girls chasing after me
fell on Sister Michael's bosom.

Twilight is the song
Amy sang and we were heads huddled together.

And at last, Sister Michael knew what ‘pot’ was.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
for Amy Elizabeth Jones


I loathed pot and everything to do with it
preferring the scalding heat of the local bidi.

I fled to the window like an asthmatic to escape fumes
wore my Papa's lungi, a lose shirt that covered even
my scuffed knees, looked like a boy when Sister Michael
shone her flashlight into our room,interrupting our reverie.

Amy with her high girl's voice screamed,
‘Thief, thief’
I fled, the tip of the lungi in my hands.

All the girls chasing after me
fell on Sister Michael's bosom.

Twilight is the song
Amy sang and we were heads huddled together.

And at last, Sister Michael knew what ‘pot’ was.


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 Post subject: Re: Twilight
PostPosted: 24 Jul 2018, 10:16 
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Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Posts: 785
I like this poem quite a lot, Siva....there are many fine lines in it, such as the opening's:

When the sun and moon appear together
they say a wolf gets married somewhere

or this line:
and held the guitar to her big bosom

or here:
as dawn shakes the sleep out of us

Trimming, but mostly tightening of language at various spots, would take this poem to the next level. For example, take this line:
twilight ushers a closing up of action into a floodgate of reverie

simplify it to: twilight ushers in a floodgate of reverie

Enjoy revising, and have fun with this...polished, it will really shine....


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 Post subject: Re: Twilight
PostPosted: 24 Jul 2018, 12:18 
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Joined: 14 May 2011, 20:30
Posts: 881
Bob

Thanks for reading. 'Floodgate' is cliched. It spreads all over the page.It has to be tightened.It is a very old poem.

S


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PostPosted: 27 Jul 2018, 01:33 
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Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
Posts: 1212
Location: Between the mountains and the sea
I don't see these lines, but I think they are grand:

Quote:
When the sun and moon appear together
they say a wolf gets married somewhere


Bob tends to write truncated poems
every surplus word cut out,
I prefer you left it in no matter the meaning.

Start a speech within literals with a capital letter,
'Thief, thief.'

As we huddled together, not: 'and huddled together'.

All the girls chasing after me
fell on Sister Michael's bosom.

Lose the 'ing' word, better:

The girls chased me after I fell on . . .
or
The girls chased me and I fell on sister . . .

Quote:
I fled to the window like a suicide to escape fumes
Perhaps better:

I fled like a would-be suicide
to escape the fumes.

Quote:
Amy with her high girl's voice screamed,
perhaps:

Amy's high pitched voice screamed.

I know you suffer as do I with errant comma spaces
but when you put work into the IBPC and refuse to edit
you limit your chances. Spaces after commas are mandatory.

Quote:
room,interrupting our reverie.


Quote:
Twilight is the song
Amy sang and we were heads huddled together.


I like the last few lines, but perhaps rearrange
for standard English:
Quote:
Twilight is the song
Amy sang and we were heads huddled together.


Twilight is the song that Amy sang
as we huddled our heads together.


or
. . . as we huddled heads together.

Editing is hard work, poor editing can spoil a good
poem in the making.
Bob has given an excellent review, the poem could
reach that second level he speaks of.


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PostPosted: 27 Jul 2018, 05:45 
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Joined: 14 May 2011, 20:30
Posts: 881
Frank
I will take what you say as I am now working on it.

Thanks for line by line comments and edits.

S


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PostPosted: 28 Jul 2018, 10:07 
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Joined: 03 Jun 2016, 21:03
Posts: 785
This is much better. Enjoyed


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PostPosted: 28 Jul 2018, 18:59 
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Joined: 14 May 2011, 20:30
Posts: 881
Bob,

This is Bernie's edit.It does not read like my poem.It sounds quite masculine.

S


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PostPosted: 28 Jul 2018, 22:17 
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Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
Posts: 1212
Location: Between the mountains and the sea
A sill is always outside a window,
ledge would be better.

Try this for a title:
Sleeping on a Window Ledge - Safe Side of the Parapet


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PostPosted: 31 Jul 2018, 04:59 
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Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57
Posts: 1348
 
Hi Siva,


sharing a workshop illustration of this passage:


I fled to the window like an asthmatic to escape fumes,
wearing my Papa's lungi, a lose shirt that covered even
my scuffed knees, and looking like a boy when Sister Michael
shone her flashlight into our room, interrupting our reverie.

With Amy's girly screamed
‘Thief, thief!'’
I fled, the tip of the lungi in my hands.



8)

Michael (MV)

 
 
 
 
 


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PostPosted: 31 Jul 2018, 19:06 
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Joined: 14 May 2011, 20:30
Posts: 881
I fled to the window like an asthmatic to escape fumes,
wearing my Papa's lungi, a lose shirt that covered even
my scuffed knees, and looking like a boy when Sister Michael
shone her flashlight into our room, interrupting our reverie.

With Amy's girly screamed
‘Thief, thief!'’
I fled, the tip of the lungi in my hands.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Michael

loose shirt
[ delete and] looking like a boy when Sister Michael

With Amy's girly screamed(what is this girly screamed?




Thanks.


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PostPosted: 01 Aug 2018, 09:24 
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Joined: 05 Jan 2006, 02:13
Posts: 3
my two cents:

Twilight is the song
Amy sang and we were heads huddled together.

Is your opening line. Sets the tone (no pun intended) for the rest of the poem.

Also- not sure if, "And at last, Sister Michael knew what ‘pot’ was." is where you want to end- I feel like it takes away from the rest of the poem.

If Sister Michael deserves a line- again- it can be early on as a projection.


Here is an attempt at an edit (sorry if it is a hack job)- just wanted to tighten it up and end on a note of juxtaposing local vs imported.

Twilight is the song
Amy sang and we were heads huddled together

The night Sister Michael at last knew what pot was:
‘Thief, thief!'’
I fled, the tip of the lungi in my hands.

Amy with her high girl's voice screamed.
I fled to the window
wearing my Papa's lungi,
it covered my scuffed knees,
I looked a boy the night Sister Michael
interrupted our reverie.

All the girls chased after me
into Sister Michael's bosom.

I loathed pot, everything to do with it
preferred the scalding heat of the local bidi.


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PostPosted: 01 Aug 2018, 16:30 
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Joined: 02 Mar 2016, 18:07
Posts: 1212
Location: Between the mountains and the sea
Amy, with her high pitched voice, screamed.


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