The Strangling Of An Emotion

hada

As always, *any* feelings you have on this poem, whether you liked it or not, will be welcome.


The Strangling Of An Emotion

---

In the corner of my mind, my emotion sits,
Smug in the knowledge that
It controls all of my fits.

It runs, skips and shakes it's head in my direction,
All the time my jagged fingers,
Drawing closer - wanting the feeling to no longer linger
In my insides.

I first placed my thumb around it's scrawny kneck;
The beings slight stature reeling,
In his last actions of breathing.
Then, tightened I did, my grip - squeeze.

And now stared at his eyes as they bulged,
Full of mist.
And began to embrace death's kiss.

Finally his body exhaled,
One final time.
And after all was done,
I brushed off the spatters of guilt.
And although this life has gone,
My days will go on and on.

Le Rack

its good but is there more depth to it than we or at least I can see?
any chance of a synopsis style dealy?

goin'_to_the_PS

i agree a bit hard to grasp what you mean by it

hada

Le Rack wrote:

its good but is there more depth to it than we or at least I can see?
any chance of a synopsis style dealy?

Sure.

Well I have fascination with the personification of emotions. And in this poem I turn a certain emotion (in this one it's love) into a little creature that

"In the corner of my mind, my emotion sits,
Smug in the knowledge that
It controls all of my fits."

Such an emotion has a certain control over me as it "controls all my fits" and it is rather smug to the knowledge that it has such power.

The second and third stanzas are me, through reaching inside myself, wrapping my fingers around the "scrawny kneck" of my emotion and proceeding to rid myself of it.

The fourth stanza details the final struggle of the being, as its

"..eyes as they bulged,
Full of mist."

And certainly there is irony in the line that this being, this emotion, love, is being killed off by a kiss itself

"And began to embrace death's kiss."


"Finally his body exhaled,
One final time.
And after all was done,
I brushed off the spatters of guilt.
And although this life has gone,
My days will go on and on."

Here I talk of how even though I may feel guilty to the ridding of such an emotion, I must wipe the "spatters of guilt" and even though a part of me has died (i.e. the feeling of love, the relationship caused as a result, whatever), it is not the end of the world. Life will go on.

---

And that really is it.

I'm very very sorry, sometimes I do write far too obscurely for others to understand. It's just I feel as if I were to make things more obvious or simplify things, then the poem would be loosing my desired affect.

Hope you understand what I mean now, and do feel free to comment.

el_tiddlero

tis good, i originally thought you were talking about a suicide caused by stress.. i thought perhaps the part of "stared at his eyes as they bulged" was looking in the mirror and then that the soul had lived on to tell the tale of what happened the body, works your way too though, i guess you should know seen as you wrote it... :-)
definite thumbs up!!

hada

el_tiddlero wrote:

tis good, i originally thought you were talking about a suicide caused by stress.. i thought perhaps the part of "stared at his eyes as they bulged" was looking in the mirror and then that the soul had lived on to tell the tale of what happened the body, works your way too though, i guess you should know seen as you wrote it... :-)
definite thumbs up!!

An interesting way of looking at it..Well the killing of one's own emotion is a sort of suicide in a way.

Glad you liked it anyway!

the raven

rhythm is very off, very jilting.
not to be obvious but annoyingly bad spelling in some few places, prob just typos...
the sibilance isn't controlled competently and makes a mess of a lot of it.

the poem is aloof and conceited in style and content.
terrible rhyming in last couplet.

good diction.
nice expression.

MojoMaker

Each and every point valid Raven, yet I think deliberately so on Hada's part, which makes the piece more impressive. I liked it. I get the impression he's consciously writing differently to draw the very reaction you provided.

Watch the spelling though hada - Kneck is a clumsy one! Also, would you consider dropping "spatters" and choosing something less visceral?

hada

the raven wrote:

rhythm is very off, very jilting.
not to be obvious but annoyingly bad spelling in some few places, prob just typos...
the sibilance isn't controlled competently and makes a mess of a lot of it.

the poem is aloof and conceited in style and content.
terrible rhyming in last couplet.

good diction.
nice expression.

Will have to agree somewhat with what you said, especially with regards to my rhyming scheme.

I don't really "do rhyming" as such, but decided to experiment lightly with it in this poem, but never putting too much emphasis on it either.

Besides that, I think you're missing the point of the style in which the poem was written. In agreement with what Mojomaker said, I think you should browse through some of the forums pages and read a bit more of what I'm posting, maybe then you might better understand my style.

MojoMaker, with regards to changing the word from "spatters" to something less visceral.. Myself, (and it may be just my own opinion) but I was pushing for that kind of imagery or even connotation (spatters, blood, death). But, by all means, if you could think of a word that would sound better, then I'd be delighted to hear it!..

Ps. I'm shocked and embarrassed about my spelling of "neck"... Type too fast and carelessly sometimes!

MojoMaker

I'm just not sure spatters fits the scene you've painted. To me the word 'spatters' suggests the residue from an explosion of some sort whereas the method of execution described was a form of strangulation. On a more abstract level, for me anyway, this jarred. Lemme get back to you on a substitute :eek:

Le Rack

I know what you feel to an extent but you cant live a life without love. In the words of myself and Ewan McGregor "Love is Oxygen", good old Moulin Rouge...! or you could just read my poem...
But still yours is incredible and the metaphor does give it deeper meaning! I Like It!

Shad0r

MojoMaker wrote:

I'm just not sure spatters fits the scene you've painted. To me the word 'spatters' suggests the residue from an explosion of some sort whereas the method of execution described was a form of strangulation.

Hah, funny the spatters of guilt was one of the things I liked best about this poem. And spatter doesn’t necessarily suggest an explosion. It could be blood or drool or just a metaphorical image of spilt bodily essence. I wouldn’t change it.

Thumbs up on the poem anyway hada. I look forward to reading more of your work.

Salubri

hada wrote:

Will have to agree somewhat with what you said, especially with regards to my rhyming scheme.

I don't really "do rhyming" as such, but decided to experiment lightly with it in this poem, but never putting too much emphasis on it either.

Not doing rhyming doesn't mean that you should rhyme badly. That last couplet is really quite painful.

hada wrote:

Besides that, I think you're missing the point of the style in which the poem was written. <snip...snip> and read a bit more of what I'm posting, maybe then you might better understand my style.

Might just be my own view here but I was of the impression that a poem should speak for itself unless presented with others as a set... If the reader doesn't get the style it may be worth looking at the style and considering a re-polish. Of course often the reader is just not looking... Personally I feel the jarring rhythm is badly constructed if it is deliberate. Perhaps you could explain - similarly to the explaination of the content which I liked - what each break in rhythm is supposed to evoke in the reader?

Unlike Raven I prefer the content to the expression. Nice idea, nice visualisation of the emotion as a creature.
It is all in all a little unwieldy and possibly conceited (but what writing isn't?). I'd like to see a polished version sometime.

I haven't posted anything here so it is a little forward to give my opinion (In my opinion *grin*) but I figure feedback (if invited) is good...

The main thing to remember, I think, is that writing is for the reader and if the reader finds it hard to decipher then something needs to change (perhaps the reader... ?) if on the other hand you are writing for yourself then feedback is unnecessary - you know what you are trying to acheive.
MojoMaker - I find writing for a reaction objectionable and akin to trolling on the internet. I don't think that's what Hada is trying for - more likely he is trying to evoke a particular feeling. As I pointed out - that is admirable but if he is missing the mark with some people explaining the method might lead to more informed feedback.

hada

Hmm.. This really does leave me in a pickle of a situation..

From what I can read from your feedback (which I'm really greatful for btw) I'm conflicted!..

Do I either try and change my style a little, and in the process possibly lose what emotion/message I'm trying to evoke in the reader so that the reader himself/herself can better understand what I'm writing about. Or do I continue, in a sort of "ignorance is bliss" state of poetic belief in my writing, happy to churn out pieces that I'm somewhat proud about. Hmm ..

Probably the reason I wrote the following poem a few months ago:


---

I watch the others,
As I was,
penning the same old tales,
If lost plots and places
But will their pain ever reach ear?
Only to be heard and brushed off
Indifferently to one side.

So how does one ever achieve such poetic license -
To have others amaze themselves in
The rantings of an old man?
To deviate the mind on the
hazy words of our dear little Dickinson?

Then which is better? -
To leave my ink dry
never to be groped by the
Oily fingers of the others,
But leaving them instead to gather dust in myself

Or do I swing open the bridge
of my pen to mind
For all those to trample by upon
My roses of thought?

No. Never. I shall choose to protect thee
And to keep thee from all eyes
And, in turn, hide all My Memories from Myself.