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Tantalus in Saigon

He dips a tea bag.  Stale
bits and lukewarm coffee
Drops moisten the stiff
hard drill knots holding
a flaked orange beard
together.

The gas station bleeds red
Neon through all over the
small table: Cracked hands,
bleached in nicotine and white
pauses of callous no longer

Find the styrofoam's bottom.
A child barely four months
In her future
Cries for a broken lollipop.

Recalling a man's face,
or a boy, 18, laying down
His AK-47
To hold her
In his past

A sound like gravity's
Jealous lover, a few
Crackling heat-strokes,
Apple of cheek stripped
To pulsing bone.

Tables crash, snap and
overturn.  He screams at
the child, the crazy bum!

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C

CyberSpace

16 years 5 months ago

Dear GB

Sorry hubby forgot to sign out lol ... two for one hahah love JC
Seren

Seren

16 years 5 months ago

Try again lmao

What can I say a very emotive write you constantly are striving and stepping out of your comfort zone ... bravo ;) The gas station bleeds red Neon through all over the small table: Cracked hands, bleached in nicotine and white pauses of callous no longer my favourite lines i could literally see this love and hugs Jayne-Chloe
kaligantsaros

kaligantsaros

16 years 5 months ago

A very strong read..

By definition I suppose posting here means your open to crit' but somehow that is not all. I suspect your not happy with this in yourself. Something is nagging me because I know you are a very very strong writer and this poem is unfinished. You have either had a rush of creative insight or you have had a long interruption between the idea and the write. There is just an uncharacteristic feel to this and I think you may rewrite. The characters exterior was fine enough but your poets mind failed to empathise strongly enough to bring sympathy forth for his condition and you withdrew very quickly too leaving him without resolution, hanging threshing madly in the cafe. Do him more justice ( as I suspect you wish to). Kal Things are closer than they appear in the mirror...
Q

Quillsvein1

16 years 4 months ago

I get

what you mean and appreciate the criticism, but you missed something very crucial here: at the end, when I say: "the crazy bum!" i am making a meagre attempt to expose society's hypocrisy regarding insane, or PTSD affected, veterans. it's ironic, that last line. in the recesses of his memory he is remembering a vietnamese child strapped with a bomb blowing his friend up. he is having a flashback. even as a democratic socialist, i empathize with these men intensely. that's the point of the poem. GB
weirdelf

weirdelf

16 years 4 months ago

Beware Greeks bearing stories.

Wasn't familiar with Tantalus so looked him up [shudders]. Powerful write mate, beautifully crafted. Got a couple of wee hesitations. The word through in Neon through all over the feels a tad incongruous and I didn't really get the "story" till I read your reply to Kali, but then its 3.45am and perhaps I'm being a tad obtuse. Cheers, Jess, whose nature is irrepressible