Angela's Snippet Factory

[Angela]

Blythe, it's a thing now. I just have to finish with thirty somethings. Gaa. My brain is a pain in the ass like that.

Thank you so much for your words. Encouragement is a shot in the arm for me.

[Emilio]

Fantasy – The imagery and sonics here is lovely:
She must have swallowed a grain of ambergris;
her throat is so lovely. Sapphire satin framing
luminous skin. Her flaming tendrils purled into mist
that became the sea.
Experiment No. 14: Sealed Terrarium Recipe – Another imagery rich poem, so vivid, poem and terrarium giving life.
Death Wishes – This is very creative: I kicked the seed heads furiously, setting countless death wishes flying. I love the idea of losing the temper and doing this. Dig deeper on revision and put images to what you set flying, to take it to the next level.
Liberation – The imagery is interesting here, an island volcano waiting to erupt?
Gretel – After the Witch – the shift in imagery change at the latter half of the poem is uplifting, from the ugly to the beautiful, and effective.
For PRN – The ending to the Prince tribute is where he’d like it to be. Nicely done.
Paisley – the imagery here is spot on and beautiful, concise, and wow!
Submission – I loved this. We’ve all been there. This also reminded me of a poem I read on Rattle once, I looked it up and am cutting and pasting here for you now, another poet dealing with the submission editors, enjoy!

Francesca Bell
I LONG TO HOLD THE POETRY EDITOR’S
PENIS IN MY HAND
and tell him personally,
I’m sorry, but I’m going
to have to pass on this.
Though your piece
held my attention through
the first few screenings,
I don’t feel it is a good fit
for me at this time.
Please know it received
my careful consideration.
I thank you for allowing
me to have a look,
and I wish you
the very best of luck
placing it elsewhere.

Storm that I caused – I loved the buildup here, it leaves you wanting more! I really liked this one, definitely one to workup post NaPo.
Yankee in a Southern Diner – I’ve been to Georgia, this one put a big smile on my face!
Still Life with Brando – Classic, I think I know this picture, Brando was the best.

Seven more to go, heh. You can do it. Do more like Paisley, make a week of those. You’re almost to the finish line!

Cheers,

[Angela]

Emilio, Thank you, thank you! Your comments are so nice. I think I may follow your advice and do little snippets till the end (unless a bigger picture emerges, that is.)

PS: I read that rejection poem when Tim posted it on Rattle's facebook page. Made me snort then and now! (Rattle is the sore spot that spurred my own rejection poem. Ha!)

[Angela]

24) Sex Play

Don't trace the contours
of my face with stems teased
from wildflower bouquets-

you know I piss when I sneeze.

[Angela]

The countdown is on! I think I can. I think I can!

[Angela]

​25) Community Service

I rescued a Herman Miller
tulip chair down Whiskey road,
next to the dumpster
at the Salvation Army
thrift shop. It was reclined
on its side, just like the drunk
I had to step over
to get to it.

[kristalynn]

I really like these last two little snippets. Especially the drunk. Simple and effective.

[Angela]

Thank you, kristalynn! I can see the light!

26) Birthday Cake Blues

I hid the last piece
of birthday cake
before I left the house
today. It's in the back,
behind the Kung Pao
that has gone bad,
the rancid jar of bacon fat
that I have been stewing
over and the artichoke
that has bloomed
like a flower. Still,
I am terrified some beast
has sniffed out
my hiding spot and licked
all the frosting off,
then wriggled their tongue
in to get at the jam.

[M]

Ha!!! To #24. That's awesome!

[Angela]

Thank you, M!

[Angela]

This isn't cheating, is it?

27) Birthday Cake Blues Redux

To get at the jam,
they wriggled their tongue in-
after that, they licked
all the frosting off.
Some beast has sniffed out
my hiding spot and I am terrified
of that spot
behind the artichoke
that has bloomed
like a flower.
I have been stewing
over the rancid jar of bacon fat
and the Kung Pao out back
has gone bad.
Before I left the house
today, I hid the last piece
of birthday cake
and now I have the blues.

[Angela]

28) I don't know how to masturbate

How do you trace your ear
with your own tongue? I can't
sigh whispers across the fine hairs
of my lobes, or graze my teeth
over the tender skin on the back
of my neck or my knees. I can't stand

behind myself and grip my hair
in two fists, press my breasts
and belly against a wall or a bed
or take dripping fruit from my own lips.
How do you laugh and tease and get lost
in the galaxies inside your own irises?
How do you drift off anchor
and spill yourself off the point of a star?

I just want someone to tell me
how to attach a handle
to the back
of all this need.

[Donner]

Hi, Angela,

I love Birthday Cake Blues and the Redux. If you put them together, you basically have a palindrome/mirror poem. (I wouldn't call that cheating because I would have done it if I had thought of it. Heh.) I love in 26 that N hides the last slice of cake in the back of the fridge for safekeeping, worried that someone or something will find it, only to have those fears realized in 27.

"I don't know how to masturbate" handles the subject of desire and the need for interaction very well. It's not all about mechanics.

Donner

[Angela]

Thank you so much, Donner. Hey, since you are a mod, can we hang around the NaPo thread for a day or three to do some fluffing after the first? This has been a tough month for me, and I haven't gotten around nearly as much as I would like. One more to go by midnight! I can't believe I am gonna finish with 30 under my belt! Whew!

[Angela]

29) The map of his Neverland

never looked like mine- jeweled
leaves ringed by sugar sand beaches,
somehow, maple trees merged
with palms- In the beginning,
there was a pathway
between our islands, seawater
became the bluest ice
when the Argonaut Queen
saw us coming. His place
was bordered by nautilus shells
and wild horses nested
in dunes off the black sand beach.

For years, our sun hung
in just the right spot- we feasted
on cakes and sweets spun from coconuts
and mangoes borne from my shore.

One day, the light was not right
and the queen denied me access.
Our islands were drifting apart.
There was a great fire across the distance-
the horses were screaming.

The horses were screaming
and all I could see were galaxies
churning in the surf.


This poem was spun from a prompt shared by Acolyte. (Thank you so much! This was a lot of fun to write!) It can be found here.

I rolled the dice and got 1) Life 2) Neverland and 3) This poem. These were the ideas that spurred this piece.