Poetry Forum

He espied her epidermis
from the inside of his bunker.
She had joined the Outreach Service
and was trained to be a hunter
who could capture one excluded
via chemistry and candour.
She determined not to lose him
and built rings round the verandah
only visible in blackness
and emitting the faintest hum;
fed him foie de gras for afters
and a pill to fill the tedium.

loved this piece to bits

the rhythm and rhyme are spot on and the lyrics oh wow

bravo

donna

Thanks, Donna.

This is terrific. Have you read J.V. Cunningham? He does really nice short pieces.

I know you have a solid rhyme scheme worked out but it would be great in my opinion
if you could rewrite the first two lines to just before the last two lines.
Otherwise there is the distracting contradiction of a the man as the espyer or hunter
whereas she is the real hunter.

For the last line why not "pills"?

Does the tone have the sweetness of the subject?
I guess that is maybe not the question - there are different perspectives you could take.
But the prevailing tone I think concerns the power of feminine love to please a man and heal him,
the paradox of plotted love - insincere - which yet can work a kind of healing, the soldier's sickbed,
the willingness of the woman to charm despite social mores. So it is a sweet paradox.

I was going to say that the seduction plot - with rings in blackness and the hum - was a note of creeping bitterness that does not belong but rereading it shows nothing sinister but the practical effort involved and the subtle means of communication in temptation.

Thanks ablackfoot. I hadn't heard of J.V.Cunningham, but I had a few quick reads and he seems up my street.
I take on board what you're saying about espier/hunter. It makes me think I need a different word to espied.
There are indeed several perspectives one could take, I'm happy with whatever people choose. As an ex-mental health nurse and a still married man, I'm sometimes struck by the similarities between the two institutions.

What a pleasure to read. I especially liked your,

built rings round the verandah
only visible in blackness

Steve

Thanks, Steve.

hi Ray

I thought the opening - defined the distance and retreat, especially the bunker - so worked for me. The 'e' sounds thread to pills in my head - but that's probably my head . Like the quiet intimidating hum and the concluding emptiness ticked the boxes too. No nits.

all the best

mac

I'm a simple soul, so I'd have liked the feminine rhymes to be continued into the last four lines. Up to there, I think it's great. But I espy a falling off after that. Easily remedied, perhaps?

Worth the price of admission for the first eight lines alone, though.

Cheers

David

I find it a bit too dum-di-dum personally, but that's a taste thing and besides, it's done so skilfully I can't help but admire. The first 8 lines at least that is, like David says the rhythm is lost towards the end.

My problem with this kind of poem, where the meter is so loud, is that I come away remembering little of what I've just read but still have the rhythm of it clanging around in my head. In the minority I'm sure, but I do wonder if the content is not being done a disservice by the form. Just putting that out for you to consider Ray.

B.

Hi Ray

There's a lot to like here but I'm not sure about your choice of meter. It reads as if we're on a jolly boys outing.
I keep looking for the joke.

EG only. This is not a suggestion.

"He espied her epidermis
from the inside of his jumper;
he had just put out the furnace
and decided that he'd dump 'er."

The above jolly nonsense is probably a reflection of my immaturity, so take with a pinch.

Enjoyed the poem though.

Best

JJ

So interesting. Moody and mysterious on a black verandah.
Fun to read meter and it certainly rolls of the tongue.

A very interesting twosome, i think.
Suzanne

Thanks for all the comments.
Brian - I know what you mean and I wouldn't want to write, or read, such as this every time. But I do like to indulge myself now and again.

JJ - I can read it George Formby style or Leonard Cohen style, it only depends on how far I am from a lamppost. Although, George would never have used via.