meh. lemme dissect my latest failure.

1) Now she swats backyard butterflies
when she feels like fire in her eyes.

(Petrina felt this was a metaphor for masturbation so i wrote about this kinda stuff. bad call. i'm no good at it.)

The passion in her loins.
Brews hotter and hotter.
Craving for the touch of some stranger danger.

(I like stranger danger. wicked in a malevolent way, yet suggestive of innocence. i hate the rest though. neither literal nor abstract. weak.)

Forget the dates.
She wants to be raped.
The slut wants to feel some hot seed spurt in her.

(Transition between metaphor and literalness is too abrupt. should have stuck with one or the other.)

2) Their vague features and inconstant touch
are posed like ripples in a pond.

(This part immediately brought to mind this image.

so i wrote the rest of the poem to follow suit. went decently.)

As a rapier strikes through my mind
The hallowed eyes burn through my soul
A sigil-marked avatar of truth.

Questioning.

(i like how the last line is disjoint. helps underscore the boldness of the word. adds emphasis to the previous paragraph.)

3. Like the colonies of the empire.
We are but mercenaries for hire.

Lust for battle, we have not.
Doesn’t matter when we’re bought.
We charge into the fray for the highest bidder.

Fight for greed or fight for need.
We slay your children, our own to feed.

(Lame poem. couldn't think of how to write it. and it was my last one. funny enough it kept reminding me of in flames. i hate this poem.)

4. Even then he was in some ways invisible,
At the wheel, anonymous as a spectre.

The craft held fast against the waves.
Timber strong as a hulk.
Holding the ship fast.

Even through the curse of the albatross the captain stood stoic.
On its eternal ship to nowhere.

(I wrote this about the rime of the ancient mariner. i like it though my lecturer found it cheesy. he didn't like how i repeated the word fast. i didn't even notice it. must pay more attention to detail next time.)

5. Maples ignite beneath the black damp fog
Like fireflies in the night.

Marking out the sign of the pentagram.
The light comes forth, cutting through the night.

Raising the master, the lord of flies.
Slay the Christians and hear their cries.

(He didn't like it due to the last line. but i felt it was descriptive. a bit too literal though.)

6. She is doing her job,
Like bagging groceries at a store.
Working like a drone in a bee’s hive.

(He didnt like the last line there. all i can say was that i was pressed for time.)

Her humble existence reeks of the mundane.
And she’d actually rather be insane.
Than stuck with the inane.

(he didn't like the rhyming. it was suitable, i say. just not for this particular poem.)

She longs for her white-clad prince.
Riding forth on a thunderous charger.

But woe betide her, she had to wince.
Raped by her incestuous father.

(i love the twist and rhyming. the last line really comes out of nowhere.)

7. Like a lion cage at feeding time
The crunch of maggots ring through the night.
Leaking from the cunt of the recently departed.

The necrophiliac feasts on his prey.
Under the light of the freezing moon.

Rotting skin and ivory bones
Erect the penis of the wicked predator.
Thrusting forth to meet his urges.
Ruptures the intestines of the victim.

A dead baby.

(same technique here. twist at the end. like it too. lecturer thinks its freaky though. not really surprisingly.)

8. You think you’ve understood
the tone of their sentences – disbelief
or wonder, then resignation –
as if.

(he liked how i turned as if from a simile into a statement. i like it too.)

Their smiles belie their intentions.
A blindfold hiding truth from your eyes

Fuck your wife.
She’s wasted your life.
All she deserves is the blade of a knife.

(Crude. uninspired.)

Chelsea smile’s what she needs.
Filthy slut, a whore for greed.
On her knees devouring seed.

(like the second line. nothing else.)

9. in some grove
some municipal greensward
chewing a leaf
that has left him stoned
as a spaceman in a Hollywood basement.

(i like this line. so did he. good for me i guess. oh and this whole poem's inspired by the red hot chili peppers.)

In his eyes are heavenly constellations.
Spangles of honey stars in milky skies
Brought by Hoffman’s sweet emancipation.

(acid reference. i like the language. very flowery.)

Today must be bicycle day.
He sweetly slips away,
Smiles come to a face ash grey

The train has left the station.

(he dies. and this is underscored by the last line. i like it.)

10. It spins like a black hole into oblivion
Living on jacky d’s, marleys and cocaine.
A pitiful life wasted to the wrong religion.

The sinner craves for the sweet touch of Mr. Brownstone.
Curled up, pale and shivering
A cold sweat runs down his spine.
He passes out of a life wasted.

A life barely worth living.

(bad poem. lame and too direct.)

Carousel- Blink 182

I talk to you every now and then
I never felt so alone again
I stop to think at a wishing well
My thoughts send me on a carousel