Poverty like an empty chalice

[AnonymousPoet]

Poverty like an empty chalice;
Stella you slut.

Judge me and I’ll keep chugging.
Gulp, gulp in sync with my pulse.
(Slowing).

Down it, down the throat,
Out the bottle
Which is a boat on my bloody ocean.
I’m not drunk.

Liquid obsession,
Supplied to my suicidal demand.

[Ros]

Sorry ap, but to me this isn't reading like a poem but more a series of ideas that might make a poem. I'm going to move it to beginners to give you chance to work it up into something more considered.

Ros

[Macavity]

Gulp, gulp in sync with my pulse.
(Slowing).

Like the pacing of that Anon.

Poverty like an empty chalice;
Stella you slut.

Like the gear change to directness in L2. Would Blanche be a more interesting choice than Stella? Perhaps retitle to Chalice and let L1 work the elaboration.

Not keen on the abstracts of the concluding lines, but perhaps you could blend more of the woman/poverty into this poem?

all the best

mac

[StephenDedalus]

Yeah I have to agree it doesn't read like a poem as yet. I think you could do a bit more to flesh out these images, add some rhyme and generally try add a bit more rhythm to it. Definitely some good ideas here though.

[jcmcarthy]

I liked the smack in the face it gave me. Must say I was not concerned about lack of rythmic content as the furiosity of the formation, I thought, gave it a good base.

Thanks