Drunk (5th Edit)

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trobbo44
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Drunk (5th Edit)

Post by trobbo44 » Mon Aug 22, 2016 9:53 am

One more drink
and just my essence remains.
My speech is owned by another
and my body moves beyond my control.
I can smell my ego and taste my vileness.

I walk the road of champions and fight
the fight of heroes. Another drink
and my fists are iron ingots,
my prowess unrivalled.

I am what every woman desires
and every man envies. I am Saturday
night dancing, without the Sunday
morning blues.

One more drink and I am a friend to the world .
My ripple affects everything around me,
I am complete. No shyness,
no redeeming qualities.
The bull to my harem.

So why am I bleeding and broken?
My words were strong and my intent
stronger. Yet here I sit undone,
like a cork from a bottle .

Where was my prowess, my touch
of steel? Lied to by the contents
of my glass, I am bitter. I paid
my money, where is my victory?

My ego, ballooned at the bottom of a glass,
deflated by the prick of a fist. The taxi home,
the swollen eye, and my voice, once baritone
in timbre, has become timid in frame.

The morning wakes with screaming echoes
of the night before and phone calls
from laughing hyenas that I'll meet at work
on Monday morning.
Last edited by trobbo44 on Sat Oct 08, 2016 11:27 am, edited 31 times in total.

Moth
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Re: Drunk (1st Edit)

Post by Moth » Mon Aug 22, 2016 1:14 pm

First thought - drop the final verse. Lots about this I liked but felt it went on too much throughout. Will probably come back to this later.
to be totally honest... whenever you feel you really shouldn't write that, that's exactly what you should write.

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Luce
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Re: Drunk (2nd Edit)

Post by Luce » Mon Aug 22, 2016 9:02 pm

I like this one Terry but I also think it goes on too long. Just stating what the drunk thinks he is shows what he is not. Less is more, especially when it comes to you and poetry. Trim it and concentrate on showing and not telling us what the drunk thinks he is when he is "in his cups".

Favorite line:

I am Saturday
night dancing, without the Sunday
morning blues.


Luce
"She acts like summer, walks like rain." - Train

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Re: Drunk (2nd Edit)

Post by trobbo44 » Mon Aug 22, 2016 9:54 pm

Thanks Moth and Luce, both points taken, much appreciated. Regards

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Re: Drunk (4th Edit)

Post by Macavity » Fri Aug 26, 2016 6:13 pm

hi robbo,
Our writing styles are so different I think it pointless to crit. The parts in italics are those I most enjoyed. Not that the rest doesn't work, but its just not my approach to writing (I probably condense too much!)

hope that helps some

mac
trobbo44 wrote:One more drink and just my essence
remains.
My speech is owned by another
and my body moves beyond my control.
I can smell my ego and taste my vileness.

I walk the road of champions and fight
the fight of heroes. Another drink
and my fists are iron ingots,
my prowess unrivalled.

I am what every woman desires
and every man envies. I am Saturday
night dancing, without the Sunday
morning blues.


One more drink and I am a friend to the world .
And, as my ripple affects everything around me,
I become complete. No shyness, no redeeming qualities.
The bull to my harem.

So why am I bleeding and broken?
My words were strong and my stance
even stronger. Yet here I sit, undone
like a cork from a bottle .


Where was my prowess, my touch
of steel? Lied to by the contents
of my glass, I am bitter. I paid
my money, where is my victory?


My ego, ballooned at the bottom of a glass,
deflated by the prick of a fist. The taxi home,
the swollen eye. And my voice, once baritone
in timbre, has become timid in frame.

The morning wakes with screeming echoes
of the night before and phone calls from
laughing hyena's that I'll meet at work
on Monday morning.

trobbo44
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Re: Drunk (4th Edit)

Post by trobbo44 » Fri Aug 26, 2016 7:44 pm

Mac, I agree with you, our writing styles differ. But, that's the beauty of writing and reading. Boring otherwise. Glad you enjoyed a few lines. Regards

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Re: Drunk (4th Edit)

Post by ton321 » Sat Aug 27, 2016 12:47 am

Hi Trobbo,
You have a poem of two halves. Cut out the last half and trim by at least half the first half. You don't have to tell the inevitable. Concentrate on the Saturday night, not the Sunday morning. Call the poem The Drunk, and make it archetypal, hope this helps, ton.

ie
One more drink and just my essence
remains. My speech is owned by another
and my body moves beyond my control.


I walk the road of champions and fight
the fight of heroes. Another drink
and my fists are iron ingots.


I am what every woman desires
and every man envies.
I am Saturday
night dancing, without the Sunday
morning blues.
Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.

Robert Graves

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Re: Drunk (4th Edit)

Post by trobbo44 » Sat Aug 27, 2016 3:32 pm

ton321, thanks for your insight. But, I feel there has to be a two phase process, because the drunk thinks he's one thing and the reality shows that he's another. Regards

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Re: Drunk (4th Edit)

Post by Pauline » Sun Aug 28, 2016 12:06 am

One more drink and just my essence
remains. My speech is owned by another
and my body moves beyond my control.
I can smell my ego and taste my vileness. I really like this. Great opening.

I walk the road of champions and fight
the fight of heroes. Another drink
and my fists are iron ingots,
my prowess unrivalled. Yep. Totally get this.

I am what every woman desires
and every man envies. I am Saturday Great line break. I love it. I am Saturday. That in itself is a great statement. Well done.
night dancing, without the Sunday
morning blues. Nodding. Yes. I'm sure a lot of us have been there.

One more drink and I am a friend to the world .
And, as my ripple affects everything around me, I'd remove the "and as" here. keep it strong. About you.
I become complete. No shyness, no redeeming qualities. Again, I'd focus on myself and say "I am complete".
The bull to my harem.

So why am I bleeding and broken?
My words were strong and my stance
even stronger. Yet here I sit, undone
like a cork from a bottle .

Where was my prowess, my touch
of steel? Lied to by the contents
of my glass, I am bitter. I paid
my money, where is my victory?

My ego, ballooned at the bottom of a glass, Cracking line.
deflated by the prick of a fist. The taxi home,
the swollen eye. And my voice, once baritone remove the full stop and the capital A
in timbre, has become timid in frame.

The morning wakes with screaming echoes
of the night before and phone calls from
laughing hyenas that I'll meet at work
on Monday morning.



I like the concluding stanza.
It wraps up the over the top experience of the night before
and the dread of the unpleasant aftermath it may produce.
Thoroughly enjoyed this.
Great stuff.

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Re: Drunk (4th Edit)

Post by trobbo44 » Sun Aug 28, 2016 10:10 am

Pauline, brilliant critique. I shall take on board all of your corrections. Regards

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Re: Drunk (5th Edit)

Post by Pauline » Sun Aug 28, 2016 10:09 pm

I really like this Terry.
Very strong delivery :)
Hope you don't mind but I have two tiny nits, and then for me, this is just perfect.
trobbo44 wrote:The morning wakes with screeming echoes
of the night before and phone calls from
laughing hyenas that I'll meet at work
on Monday morning.
You have a typo in the first line of the final stanza. Screaming :wink:
Plus, I'm not keen on the hanging from

Just a suggestion.
How's about

The morning wakes with screaming echoes
of the night before and phone calls
from laughing hyenas that I'll meet
at work on Monday morning.

:D Hope this helps.

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Re: Drunk (5th Edit)

Post by trobbo44 » Mon Aug 29, 2016 10:10 am

Pauline, thank you again. Can't think how I missed the typo. Regards

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