The Man Who Loathed Whispers.
March 23, 2009 at 7:07 pm | Posted in poetry, prosepoemthingy, writing | 13 CommentsTags: black, poetry, prison tattoo, tattoo poetry, writing
As he got slowly older his hearing started to go. Not surprising since he had spent so much of his life wearing headphones, sometimes to listen more closely to the pins dropping in the lock and others to block out the perpetual cacophony of other people’s lives.
It has reached the stage now that he can’t hear much at all except the moan of his voice in his throat and chest and he wonders when they will feed him again.
He hears the whisper of their approach and closes his eyes even though it is already pitch black.
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Possibly a Divine retribution for his safe cracking days.
Possibly. There is always room for literality. Hello.
Comment by Ann oDyne— March 23, 2009 #
Tenses, Squires. I know, it is one of those I am going to come back to over and over and everytime I’m gonna want to fiddle with the tenses. They can’t be all the same,
Comment by Paul— March 23, 2009 #
Yes, it doesn’t read quite right although the concept is fine.
Yeah, I think it’s just the last line, Jim. I’ll fiddle it. Thanks.
I made the last line present tense so it moves from the past into the present. Hope that’s better.
Comment by Jim Murdoch— March 23, 2009 #
Having not read the piece prior to your edits, I’ll say now that the tenses are fine, save the “he’ld” in sentence number two (which might actually be an intential double-tense, and in that case the word is quite enjoyable and unique and some sort of time-straddler).
Poor old man. Where did it all go wrong? Shouldn’t he be on an island somewhere sipping a sweet, fruity drink?
Cool, thanks Bryan. You were right that should be ‘he had’. We’ll have to call this piece a collaboration by the time it’s finished. The piano player will be back any day now.
Comment by poeticgrin— March 24, 2009 #
You’ve got some interesting sound visuals at work in this one.
Thanks Harmonie. It’s not brilliant this one. I like the idea but I don’t think it’s ever going to work properly. One for the live and learn file, I think.
Comment by harmonie22— March 24, 2009 #
This is intriguing…
Comment by Crafty Green Poet— March 24, 2009 #
I think the tenses are fine. Changing them might be a turn for the worse. Frankly, this poem is enjoyable as a kind of walk through someone’s personal hell. That he was a safe cracker makes it somehow satisfying. Was this inspired in any way by the global financial crisis? Maybe if he had stolen his money the way AIG did, he would be sipping pina coladas in the sun, with his own personal nurse at his beck and call?
Comment by Paul M. Peterson— March 25, 2009 #
Sir Squires, I read a poem a few minutes ago and instantly thought of you, when if you read it you will know why 🙂
http://www.blackbird.vcu.edu/v7n1/poetry/dubie_n/cantor_frege_godel.htm
Yes! That is very cool. I’ve never heard of Norman Dubie but it is a fantastical poem. Thankyou Harmonie.
Comment by harmonie22— March 26, 2009 #
Just fiddling with feeds and links and various technical things at the moment. Rearranging the furniture. So sorry if strange things are going into your readers and such like. We will return to normal transmission very soon.
Comment by Paul— June 27, 2009 #
Tense can be a tricky, tricky thing. I really like how this piece forces me to slow down my reading and check that I’m taking in your words from exactly the right reference point in time…
Comment by Tracey— June 27, 2009 #
Pitch black brings such a strong presence to your ending. Really liked this one. Have a great day.
Comment by Michelle Johnson— June 28, 2009 #
So many things can be a prison, but nothing more than our minds. Inner deafness or outer deafness, a dual tragedy. Very very good Squires.
Comment by valbrussell— June 28, 2009 #
tense? Super pluperfect!
Tommy can you see me?
Tommy can you hear me?
Tommy?
Tommy?
Comment by ann oDyne— June 28, 2009 #