Thanks Timmy. Have looked at some of your poetry too. Would like you to post some more also. Poetry is such an interesting genre to write in. Like Kate said, you have to be so precise and economical in order to get a point across. The more poetry on this site the better!
Thank you Kate and Edd. I will try and leave it alone for a few days and see, as you suggest Kate. And Edd, thanks for your technical support! Boy do I need it! If you could just sort out the short I posted earlier that would be great! In fact I could do with you here to do all my computing if you have time!! Thanks also for you comment. I just want to say that for a person who has written for years in secret, it was and is terrifying to go public. Your support and enthusiasm just makes me feel excited and constantly inspired.
I love this poem. It is not one I will soon forget. The imagery is stark and stunningly visual. "Caviar shit" tells me all I need to know about the people in the house she cleans - about an entire class. Two words have captured the house, the family, a social and economic status, as well as her distain and her own social status. However much I would like it said of me, I never say "brilliant," but this poem . . .
I think this works better (although it was very good before, and others might disagree with me!). You might even consider cutting 'The' from morning, afternoon and evening to show how cold they are - as opposed to 'But at night' which heightens the importance of that time. That's just my opinion.
I often think it's a good thing to put a piece of writing away for a few days or more, then go back to it. Oh - and always keep drafts cos you might want to go back a few and sometimes even to the raw original (cos it's so easy to lose that 'edge' with continuous re-drafting and re-shaping the form).
Hello all who have helped (and any one else!). Could you please tell me if you think this works any better or if I have made it worse? Thanks. I have tried to take on board redrafting advice and am just playing about really. Also, god I am stuck for a title!
As yet untitled-redraft
Dawn. She sucks the dripping sauce from the walls,
bleaches her doorstep, waves to her neighbour.
The morning. She cleans caviar shit
in the big house down the lane
The afternoon. She returns to her ravioli life
licking the tin til her tongue swells and fills her mouth
The evening. She drowns in a lager- pissed bed
while he wanks in her body still cold from his fist
But at night she lullabies her tiny son
“Come baby come
breathe outside my tin.
Mummy’s pen will write us both a different story.”