What should I title this poem I just wrote
Kwyjibo
Posts: 662
I think it needs a title. I have to turn this in.
His speech was already starting to slur.
He picked the hamburger up off of his plate.
His gnarled old farmer’s hands clenched the bun,
and the grease dripped down his wrist.
He took a giant bite–filling his mouth.
The undercooked burger oozed out of his lips.
Pink grease dribbled down his chin.
His yellow teeth mashed the food loudly.
Then he began to cough.
It was the cough of a man who had smoked cigarettes,
and drank whiskey for 60 years.
It was a cough of permanent phlegm.
He grabbed the tall glass of whiskey
with his greasy hands and took another
long drink to wash down the meat
and to quiet his wheezing.
The whiskey did no good, and soon he fell
hard to the floor, his body bent unnaturally.
His neck muscles tensed as he made his last attempt
to fight the creeping cold hand. His eyes faded
like the sun sets in winter: the last light flickers
out across the horizon beneath an array of pink air
against pure white clouds. His eyes.
Every vessel and capillary twinged and popped
and the whites were scourged with pink.
His neck muscles relaxed and his head fell softly
on the slightly damp tile. His eyes fluttered again
and then he closed them, unable to resist anymore.
His speech was already starting to slur.
He picked the hamburger up off of his plate.
His gnarled old farmer’s hands clenched the bun,
and the grease dripped down his wrist.
He took a giant bite–filling his mouth.
The undercooked burger oozed out of his lips.
Pink grease dribbled down his chin.
His yellow teeth mashed the food loudly.
Then he began to cough.
It was the cough of a man who had smoked cigarettes,
and drank whiskey for 60 years.
It was a cough of permanent phlegm.
He grabbed the tall glass of whiskey
with his greasy hands and took another
long drink to wash down the meat
and to quiet his wheezing.
The whiskey did no good, and soon he fell
hard to the floor, his body bent unnaturally.
His neck muscles tensed as he made his last attempt
to fight the creeping cold hand. His eyes faded
like the sun sets in winter: the last light flickers
out across the horizon beneath an array of pink air
against pure white clouds. His eyes.
Every vessel and capillary twinged and popped
and the whites were scourged with pink.
His neck muscles relaxed and his head fell softly
on the slightly damp tile. His eyes fluttered again
and then he closed them, unable to resist anymore.
The most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway, is that its you, and that you're standing in the doorway.
I write down good reasons to freeze to death in my spiral ring notebook. But in the long tresses of your hair--I am a babbling brook.
I write down good reasons to freeze to death in my spiral ring notebook. But in the long tresses of your hair--I am a babbling brook.
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"The artery explodith"
Oh, seconded. It's Bob Dylan-esque. Me likey.
kevinbeetle: "Yes. When her career washes up and her and Gavin move to Galveston, you will meet her at Hot Topic shopping for a Japanese cheerleader outfit.
Next!"
What did you think about the poem itself. Its more really just prose in a poem form.
I write down good reasons to freeze to death in my spiral ring notebook. But in the long tresses of your hair--I am a babbling brook.
He picked the hamburger up off of his plate.
His gnarled old farmer’s hands clenched the bun,
and the grease dripped down his wrist.
He took a giant bite–filling his mouth.
The undercooked burger oozed out of his lips.
Pink grease dribbled down his chin.
His yellow teeth mashed the food loudly.The adverb "loudly" can go because "mashed" is strong enough.
Then he began to cough.
It was the cough of a man who had smoked cigarettes,
and drank whiskey for 60 years.substitute "drunk" for "drank" to preserve consistency of tenses.
It was a cough of permanent phlegm.
He grabbed the tall glass of whiskey
with his greasy hands and took another
long drink to wash down the meat
and to quiet his wheezing.
The whiskey did no good, and soon he fell
hard to the floor, his body bent unnaturally.I'd take out the adverb "unnaturally" because the detached tone of "and soon he fell" makes his death seem natural given his diet.
His neck muscles tensed as he made his last attempt
to fight the creeping cold hand. His eyes faded
like the sun sets in winter: the last light flickers
out across the horizon beneath an array of pink air
against pure white clouds. His eyes.I like the extended simile. You take a commonplace simile and make something of it.
Every vessel and capillary twinged and popped
and the whites were scourged with pink.
His neck muscles relaxed and his head fell softlyKeep "softly".
on the slightly damp tile. His eyes fluttered againLose "slightly".
and then he closed them, unable to resist anymore.
Maybe some ironic ending? A pithy comment? A piece of observational detail that deflates the importance of a death in this comsumerist environment and a sense of everything continuing as normal? This would be difficult because you would need to keep the tone light, dry and detached but not seem contrived.
I hope these suggestions help. If this is for a class I thought I'd be thorough. Good luck. I like it!
cool FPC!
that was some good advice.
thanks again to our resident professor.
I write down good reasons to freeze to death in my spiral ring notebook. But in the long tresses of your hair--I am a babbling brook.
I would call it:
The Great Tremble
or
Dead Meat
Old Man Grease (er) ?
Dead Meat - i was thinking that too lol
MUAH!
The Meat-Whiskey Medley?
The Booze + Meat Quick fix...........nah.....
The Quick-fix of Booze and Meat
Numbed by Drink and Carcass
??????
Dirty-Binge Exctasy?
I ended up calling it "setting eyes'
just for something to turn in, but I might still change the title.
I write down good reasons to freeze to death in my spiral ring notebook. But in the long tresses of your hair--I am a babbling brook.
its more personal cause it came from you
( just to make me feel good he should choose one of mine....even if this means lying...:)......:rolleyes:)
I like fins' whisky blues ones too
all of them are great :
Great poem
i cant keep up with your stuff lol
One day im gonna make one thread for it all :cool:
Smokes, Whiskey and Burgers
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