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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: I'll Eat My Own Handsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Black Rock Tractor
    Elite Ratio:    3.78 - 555/824/140
    Words: 120
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1243
    Average Vote:    4.0000
    Bytes: 851



    Description:
       


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsI'll Eat My Own Handsdots
    -------------------------------------------


    Eat the fungus under my skin
    with that mouth you call
    a glass barrel,
    exploded, fucked,
    hurling shrapnel through my eyes.
    Hand me your loose, fan-like
    fingernails
    so I can pry and
    gauge these words
    from rusted wire
    and frothy saliva that won't,
    can't go away
    through even the most wrenching attempts
    to spit them from my body,
    release them on the world
    and shower them on the page
    like plumes of mustard gas
    choking all the bullshit and contempt
    from the bubbling veins
    that course the face
    of this tired, broken down,
    fucked-up place.
    When we're done,
    I'll eat my own hands
    and stick the nubs in my pocket,
    and you can use your's
    to feed me.




    Submitted on 2005-02-27 23:32:24     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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    ||| Comments |||
      poetic auto-cannibalism.

    sweet.

    personally, i like the esoteric feel it has.

    | Posted on 2008-03-17 00:00:00 | by ruejacobs | [ Reply to This ]
      Still gargling bile I see? Ah well, none do it quite as well as you do. Its just that 3 times regurgitated heartburn is rather abrasive and not fit for consumption... then again, thousands of progenitors of the genus musca domestica have made it their staple food and flourished. Somehow I cannot help liking your work despite a single redeeming aspect. No, that's not true, there's a unique style, a smattering of poetic smarts and I think there is a real human heart behind the grit; why so afraid to show the tender you? How about a challenge? Delve deep and find that mushy, metro-sexual side of yourself, shed a tear or two and then tell on yourself. Sure, fat chance of you actually doing that, but it was a good challenge anyhow. Might have shocked some of your ardent followers into a zombie-like trance.
    | Posted on 2006-01-24 00:00:00 | by Lelik | [ Reply to This ]
      yeah like most of the others said this is pretty good -I gathered you aree trying to kill the creative part in you so you dont show the contempt to such a [censored]ty world and that is what I see. Eh whatever very good descriptions and metaphors. This was a good read-Thanks I;ll possibly read more if I dont eat myself
    lamemansterm$
    | Posted on 2005-04-12 00:00:00 | by LameMansTerms | [ Reply to This ]
      Talk about a codependent relationship...
    My dad used to quote someone when I was a kid and I'd ruin something out of agitation or frustration with one piece of it...he'd say "Don't cut off your nose to spite your face"...anyway...just reminded me of that.

    I appreciate your abstractness here. It leaves a lot up to the reader to make out of it what they please without fear.
    From it I do feel the anger, the frustration, the release of energy that you can't put in a box or specific words...a REASON to write poetry...for anything you can just say plainly would be better off as prose.

    It's kind of that self-inflicted torture that comes from some brand of frustration...very heart felt passionate images.
    Cool piece,
    Marianne
    | Posted on 2005-03-28 00:00:00 | by marysunshine | [ Reply to This ]
      it sucks donkey balls when you have to do what you did and explain your whole poem.
    on your own page.
    and it sucks donkey balls that you only have two comments that are not your own.
    on your page.

    but i dont think any of those will bother you too much.

    as for your poem.
    well it was not really that that attracted me to it, but more what you had to say about it.
    this is indeed purgative, and this is why you hold the attitude to it that you do.
    because you have nothing to prove by it and you dont give a fu-ck.
    and i am ok with that.
    this is selfish poetry, and this why people
    1/do not understand
    2/will not try to understand.
    it is selfish in that it is not written to be accepted or understood or likes or mass produced.

    and what brought me here was that i wanted to say something i have never said before. and that was that i too have written much like this [in terms of concept] and thus i think i can perhaps just tell you that i understand.
    nothing less.
    though it would not be me to say nothing more.

    what is irrelevant in pieces like this is eye candy.
    what is irrelevant is a storyline or direction.
    what is irrelevant is any obvious literal meaning.
    because it is self defeating.

    what is relevant is the evocation of mood.

    and this is what some do not understand.

    if you really want to create a felling of nausea, for example, you do not write sick and puke and vomit and ralph and huey and speeeeeeeew.
    these are literal but do not evoke the actual feeling.
    instead you create it by commenting on things and usung tactics to recreate that feeling.
    things that would lead to that point.
    for example making the reader dizzy with words and structure. take away the familiar because it protects them and makes them feel comfortable.
    throw things at them. hit them. hard.

    and this can be applied to claustrophobia or agoraphobia or any other felling you want to recreate.

    so i do not need to tell you what you have written about because you have done that already.
    but i would have been able to, had you not.
    your actual words here are just vessels.

    and you have to accept, as it seems you have, and as finally have for the most part, that this will alienate 98% of people here.
    but this should not stop you from doing what you want/need to do.

    take care
    on1eday.co.uk
    | Posted on 2005-03-22 00:00:00 | by on1eday.co.uk | [ Reply to This ]
      um what is this about man? I am curious. You see I figure most poems that are really good start out with an idea that the poet tries to translate onto paper to share with the reader. This poem feels like a desperate attempt to shock me. While cool in it's use of bizarre imagery and sharp diction, it conveys no idea to me. Basically it has no heart man.

    Also that last line, about her using her hands to feed you, beautiful yet a little confusing because it could be taken that the person your talking to can feed you their hands rather than feed you "with" their hands.

    If you could find another way to put that it might make it a little smoother, but thats really just minor. The main problem I have is the "no idea" issue.


    hope this input helps.


    peace,
    mister fizzle
    | Posted on 2005-03-14 00:00:00 | by Mister Fizzle | [ Reply to This ]
      This is an abstract portrayal of an emotional catharsis through writing. I was attempting to capture feelings of general contempt.

    In it, I am telling this anonymous personage (who you interestingly refered to as a woman) that I am going to eat my own hands. I commit creative suicide. My hands are the tools of my communication. By destroying them, I deprive the world of my creations and hurt myself masicistically, the way some people scrape off their skin when they are depressed or over-anxious.

    But it's not important to me that even that much be deciphered by the reader. My intention was only to create a sense in the reader of the way I felt at the time. The actions and images themselves are insignificant. They are only vessels for the emotion.

    I think the toughest part of doing this kind of writing (the inspiration for which I have taken from abstract painters) is that the reader does not know coming into it that it is not intended to "make sense" in the traditional sense. Then it's like taking a gulp of milk when you thought you were going to be tasting Mountain Dew. It tastes like [censored] even if you like milk.

    It's a form I like to experiment with. I find it the most satisfying.
    | Posted on 2005-03-14 00:00:00 | by Black Rock Tractor | [ Reply to This ]
      Very physical and visceral - none of that vague, flowery language that plagues most poetry and makes it bland. I keep re-reading it in order to make sense of the images it brings to life in my mind. The words "shrapnel" and "mustard gas" made me think of war, specifically, a holocaust - agony and genocide. Overall, I got a feeling of a purge through writing (inspired by everything from "gauge these words" to "and shower them on the page"), a painful spewing up of acidic lies and illusions, the result being the sort of purity and healing you can only get from pain. As I said, extremely physical.

    The lines by themselves are raw and beautiful, but as a whole they seem too jagged to fit together. From beginning to end, one minute I think one thing is being said, the next, something else entirely. It's pretty inconsistent. The second individual mentioned seems unnecessary for the course of the poem until the very last line "When we're done, I'll eat my own hands and stick the nubs in my pocket, and you can use yours to feed me" which made me think he or she could be more integrated into the poem, more mention of them in the middle.

    I could probably be more critical, but I don't feel like it. Best part of this poem is that the imagery is so powerful that it keeps me reading it over and over again as I write this, trying to decipher it. It sure as hell isn't boring.
    | Posted on 2005-02-28 00:00:00 | by DM | [ Reply to This ]


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