Almost Human

[emuse]

Almost Human

Death smells like saki. It comes on a cloudy day
when the rain bears down, beading his hair like stars.
He understands its presence in the same way
he feels the rusted nail pushed through his palm.
What life is left in him kisses a geisha through a wire fence,
loss arcing his lungs. A god made him perfect --

soldered down to the last second of his life. Made him
certain of mortality-- that he was nothing more
that a street offering sacrifice; neon puddles in the rain.

Bitter runs him now, when the clock moves
past the rusty hour. He can't hold back the body's drag.
Still, he wants to stay, release the dove from his hand,
fingers already blackening in the ground.

POSSIBLE BREAKS:

Almost Human

Death smells like saki. It comes on a cloudy day when the rain bears down,
beading his hair like stars. He understands its presence, in the same way he feels
the rusted nail he pushes through his palm. What life is left in him kisses a geisha
through a wire fence, loss arcing in his lungs. A god made him perfect -- soldered down
to the last second of his life. Made him certain of mortality-- that he was nothing
more than a street offering sacrifice; neon puddles in the rain.

Bitter runs him now, when the clock moves past the rusty hour.
He can’t hold back a body’s drag. Still, he wants to stay, release the dove
from his hand, fingers already blackening in the ground.


________

Sorry to be posting so much lately but I am trying to evaluate contenders for a chapbook submission. My first attempt to put a collection together and the deadline is fast approaching. Thanks e.

[barrie]

First things first - I don't know what the poem's about.
I get a hazy image of someone dying, but the setting and circumstances of his death are unclear. I've tried to equate it with Nagasaki/Hiroshima (almost as a reflex), but I can't do a convincing job of it.
I don't understand the significance of - the rusted nail he pushes through his palm. Although I can think of many explanations, from the pain of life, self-inflicted pain to make him feel alive, to some quasi-Christian (neo-flagellant) action, it sounds like it's something to say rather than it's saying something.
There are some really good images -

loss arcing in his lungs - and

..................... he was nothing
more than a street offering sacrifice; neon puddles in the rain.

I still want to set it after the bomb (fingers already blackening in the ground.) - but I'm struggling.

cheers

Barrie

[juliadebeauvoir]

Is this a revision on the poem you posted awhile ago about the replicant Roy Batty? I like this new version much better--very subtle with some sublime lines in bold:

Death smells like saki. It comes on a cloudy day when the rain bears down,
beading his hair like stars. He understands its presence, in the same way he feels
the rusted nail he pushes through his palm. What life is left in him kisses a geisha
through a wire fence, loss arcing in his lungs. A god made him perfect -- soldered down
to the last second of his life. Made him certain of mortality-- that he was nothing
more than a street offering sacrifice; neon puddles in the rain.

Bitter runs him now, when the clock moves past the rusty hour.
He can’t hold back a body’s drag. Still, he wants to stay, release the dove
from his hand, fingers already blackening in the ground.


Not sure about "Death smells like saki."--I think the opening lines need to have the same deftly crafted power of your last line. Also "What life is left in him kisses a geisha through a wire fence..." seems to be a mouthful and wondering if there is any way to rework it without losing the integrity of what you are trying to express.

I like the geisha (white) and wire fence (grey steel) because it adds to the 'color' of bleakness. Bleakness of the rain, rust, black fingers, flashing lights of neon, reflective puddles and the 'stars' beading in his hair. Then the poem ends on the whiteness of the dove--a release from the equally unforgiving city and body. Nice one.

Cheers,
Kim

[Elphin]

e

I have a confusion of views on this - so in no particular order.

I think for this to resonate with the majority of readers they would need to place it in the context of Nagasaki/Hiroshima. I suspect you are alluding to that with the cloud and the rain and the blackened fingers. If its not in that context but relates to the replicant then I wonder if most people could make a connection.

I think Kim has highlighted the standout phrases and I agree. I particularly like kissing the geisha through a fence. Some work less for me:

neon puddles in the rain - dilutes the impact of the previous phrase without adding anything and just maybe verges on a cliched image.

Death smells like saki - is a nice line but it doesn't actually convey anything to me

Like barrie not sure of the significance of the rusted nail but I understand what you are conveying - does that make sense?

Some stuff for you to chew on.

Elphin

[twoleftfeet]

E,

Ah! - Androids! Now i get it - thanks Kim!

My only suggestions:
1
soldered down to the last seconds of his life
- doesn't work for me.
Howzabout soldered down to his last pulse (as in microchips) ?
2
Change the title to hint at the book/film e.g
"Dreaming of electric sleep"

Nice one
Geoff

[emuse]

B thanks for trying to figure out the puzzle, Kim is correct, this is a redraft of a poem I wrote about the android in Blade Runner. I wanted to leave the subject ambivalent but it may be too so. I don't want to earmark the poem with a strict label because that will in my mind take away from the impact of the poem. Further thoughts on that appreciated.

Kim I wanted to save this poem for a group of poems I'm working on. I'm glad you like the revised version. I remember that the title in the original was a dead giveaway and I wanted something more elusive. Let me think about that first line. I like the idea the saki but perhaps it needs a little something more.

Geoff, that pulse suggestion is good but I'm torn because of the allieration in soldered/seconds. You may be right on the title. Oh that's a tough thing to decide but if there is too much ambiguity, then the poem will not succeed. The thing is, it doesn't matter to me whether people relate it to humankind in general, the movie or the war. It want the ambivalance clear enough so that it can be any or all if that makes sense.

Elph

Thanks much. It could be that opening line needs adjustment since both you and Kim have mentioned it.

e

[emuse]

I've put up a new revision with different linebreaks. Can you tell me which version you like better?

I'd like to do something more dramatic, but don't know how to mess with the formatting in this forum. Is there any place on the forum that tells you how to format poems and where you can experiment?

e

[beautifulloser]

Ooooo . . . this is good. Ya busting me bladder again, Gal.

"when the rain bears down, beading his hair like stars. " - Like a PCB?, I gather, ooo marvellous. Wetting me knckers 'ere.

"he feels the rusted nail pushed through his palm. " - was getting some Jesus thing, but I love it! Like some isloated messiah working on some roboticised esoteric particulars, oooooo, very good. Like the dude who created "Data" in Star Trek The Next Generation, yep, plenty of lonely afternoons after Neighbours and Home & Away during my teenage years.

"that a street offering sacrifice" - hmmm, not sure about this line, E. I gather this might be "Blade Runner" specific or somethin having read your comments, just don't get it . . . . what about "that futuristic street prohphecy sacrifice" - a bit like I-Robot when Will Smith runs down the road chasing the robot who he thinks has stolen a purse from someone, dunno . . . . just suggestion, usually loathed to offer up such advices but you've grabbed my imagination.

"Bitter ruins him now" - What about, "HUmanity runis him now, as the clock moves" - I dunno, all androids aspire to that, don't they? Think they do, Data does.

The ending is just a killer, love this.

I think Geoff's title has something in it, but I like you're title too. What about "Almost Human: Dreaming of electric sleep" - maybe a bit shit, or whatever, but it's all futile bollocks . . . . youi know, the life thing.

Rocking!

Beau
x

[emuse]

Beau I'm sending over the towels for you now. I know how it is when you get over excited! What is the PCB? Is this something familiar across the pond?

The line is:

Bitter runs him now

not

Bitter ruins him now.

Does that make a difference?

The image is supposed to relate that even the streets are sacrificial and the puddles of water are like blood giving themselves up. Perhaps I should make that connection more vivid?

Tough think on the title. I don't want anything too quirky. I do like Electric Rain suggestion. Very neat that. Your complete title suggestion is thought provoking.

Hope to keep you in puddles in the future. But change those knickers once in awhile will ya?

xo
e

[beautifulloser]

Hello trouble (I don't mean that literally, it's a British thing)

I don't do towels, just let it run and then chuck 'em in the wash (oh dear, that's crass even by my standards).

Did you never do Design and Technology at school? PCB - Printed Circuit Board.

The line is:

Bitter runs him now

not

Bitter ruins him now.

Well then, make it bloody well read "runs", then. (I thought that was a deliberate edit, actually, which is why I mentioned the humanity thing).

The image is supposed to relate that even the streets are sacrificial and the puddles of water are like blood giving themselves up. Perhaps I should make that connection more vivid?

E, I don't mind confirming what everyone already knows - can you explain this to me, as I just don't get it. I get the neon puddles thing, but the streets are sacrifical(?), I took it to mean that this particular "model" is passed it's sell by date. The "creator" can only build to requirements and all that and technology changes. . . . is that what you mean? Sorry for the paraphrasing, but you've lost me (not that it's hard, mind). Saying all this because you mentioned the ambivalence and all that jazz, I can barely remember the film . . .

Oh, thought I'd add, the line breaks in the revision make for a smoother read, too.

Now for some mindless banter . . . .

But change those knickers once in awhile will ya?

Hold on a minute. Just because your country's swamped in mindless consumerism doesn't mean the rest of the world can't be. I own two pairs of "knickers" I'll have you know, a nice pink satin pair with a bow on it, that are two sizes to small, a bit like these:

http://www.frilly-knix.co.uk/images/knicksmall113.JPG

And a pair of red y fronts, a bit like these:

http://www.otterfashion.com/images/prod ... orange.jpg

I've urinated in the pink ones, and it runs like hell, the fabric's got that impermeable quality. Well, there you go, there's your thread hijacked talking about pissy knickers. Ya poem's alright though.

If anyone wants to hurl abuse at me for being a facetious arse, then ya know, go for it - my only excuse is that I just broke the D string on my guitar and I'm needing to relieve the anger.

I hope some of you, at some point have thought - euuuuugggggh gross. If not, get some help, as you're clearly abnormal.

Beau
x

[emuse]

No PCB for me Beau, the only circuits I'm familiar with are the ones that run in my head why don't you give up poetry and become an undertaker? and I'm sorry but we cannot consider a llama for a pet in your apartment, you know, the usual stuff.

Now those pink ones are a little lacy. Didn't think that was your style. But the red will do.

You're right, didn't notice I had a typo (yipes).

About the sacrificial line, it's one of those poems you can't explain too much (I have plenty of those). One just has to feel it (or not). The man is dying and so all the elements around him seem to converge toward his departure. Even the streets are making a sacrifice with their puddles. Maybe it's the syntax that would make that thought more clear?

Maybe...

that he was nothing more than a street offering its sacrifice; neon puddles in the rain

Bon?

e

[juliadebeauvoir]

that he was nothing more
that a street offering sacrifice

E, I don't mind confirming what everyone already knows - can you explain this to me, as I just don't get it. I get the neon puddles thing, but the streets are sacrifical(?), I took it to mean that this particular "model" is passed it's sell by date. The "creator" can only build to requirements and all that and technology changes. . . . is that what you mean?

E and Beau, I hope you don't mind me interjecting but Blade Runner is an all time favorite. I have seen it over and over. When I read 'street offering sacrafice' all I could envision was Decker gunning down one of the replicants while she was running. On impact she fell through a glass window. It was an incredible scene.

For those interested in the scene: http://youtube.com/watch?v=hyhR89YlWNQ

[emuse]

Kim thanks for the clip! What a scene. It might be worth becoming an android to have a body like that LOL. That is a perfect image--we have rain though the reflection of neon in the glass. Very nice. Maybe I can modify to make that line work better.

Truth be told, this began as a poem about that scene but moved on to something wider. I've posted this on a couple of other forums and no one had any idea this had to do with a film. I think I'd rather keep the concept oblique then paint a snapshot of the film. If that makes sense.

e

[redpond]

Hi Emuse

A god made her perfect as "neon puddles in the rain." Thanks for the image.

[ccvulture]

I've put up a new revision with different linebreaks. Can you tell me which version you like better?

I'd like to do something more dramatic, but don't know how to mess with the formatting in this forum. Is there any place on the forum that tells you how to format poems and where you can experiment?

e

The New Version. Much cleaner lines.

Well done for hanging on like a staffy to the quality of the piece.

Stuart

[emuse]

friends....

my mother fell and hurt her head and because of massive damage to her brain she passed. she was as healthly as a horse. we are all in shock. i flew immediately to chicago when i found out and arrived she was in a coma but i am sure she she knew we were there. i will be here for another week. please give her spirit your good thoughts.

x
e

[twoleftfeet]

Commiserations, E

[Wabznasm]

I'm really, really sorry to hear that E. Thoughts are with you.
Dave

[David]

Mine too.

David

[camus]

yeh, commiserations, keep strong.

Kris

[juliadebeauvoir]

My prayers are with you and your family. Sorry to hear about this E. We will be thinking about you.

Kim

[ccvulture]

My sympathies, emuse.

Take care

Stuart

[Minstrel]

My thoughts are with you, and your family. Hold up lass.

David.

[Elphin]

Stay strong - thoughts are with you.

Elphin

[Oskar]

My best wishes to you and yours.