# Rubbernecking



## SilverMoon (Jun 18, 2010)

A crowd-puller 
house of some kind of tragedy
wooden womb for a woman,
as slight as a child, 
Their tick-tock eyes wild wide
voracious vermin, loitering.
red tongues doing roof Hell Dance.
scandal smoke from chimney
grey as a rat.
Basement window oozes
blood of generations boiled.
No grave concern, just a neighborhood
as hungry as Haiti
Grandmother bunches up memories 
in silver frames, she in charred slippers
touching favorite sodden armchair 
as slowly as the blind. 
Heroes walk her out into the sun.
she squints a tear
old woman torn like a car wreck
This is what they really came to see.


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## Nellie (Jun 18, 2010)

Laurie,

I love the title "Rubbernecking". I think it's very appropriate for this poem.


> A crowd-puller
> a house of some kind of tragedy,
> wooden womb for a woman
> as slight as a child.



I think this is wonderful imagery--"a house of some kind of tragedy, a wooden womb for a women".
and


> Their tick-tock eyes wild wide
> voracious vermin addicts loiter.


great imagery-- wild eyes just stand there, loitering, watching.

And " Would the scandal smoke from the chimney
as grey as a rat"
 Makes one ponder why was this house on fire.

I love the last line:


> This is what they really came to see.


It reminds me so much of how often people do just standby and watch in my situation.


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## Reese (Jun 18, 2010)

Give me a minute. You make your poetry so complicated!


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## SilverMoon (Jun 18, 2010)

Thank you, Nellie. Yes. Why is the house on fire? Not even I know. It's all about the aftermath experience. And I'm always saying I write about The Nature of the Human Condition which I do here, pointed out by the 





> tick-tock eyes wild wide voracious vermin loitering.


 What I imagine as being residents of a suburban neighborhood.



> It reminds me so much of how often people do just standby and watch in my situation.


 
You and I share the same "situation". (You know I had to clear this with you!) People do just stand by and watch when we go into a episode of Epilepsy. Too busy gawking to call 911. Perhaps, this is partly the reason this poem was birthed, subconsciously. But, Oh! The long list of famous writers who had/have Epilepsy. No drooling oddities but truly brilliant people. If anyone's guessed, I'm an Advocate!

I always, truly enjoy your feedback~ Laurie


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## Reese (Jun 18, 2010)

You try to include too many thoughts into your poem.

Example: You have "Grandmother bunches up memories"

Where did the grandmother come from? You then follow the line of thought from the "grandmother's" prespective for a few lines after that, even though there is very little to connect it with the first few lines. It's a persistent problem of modern art. We live in a world of "google this" and "bing that." It doesn't mean we, as humans, actually function in this way.

I would really recommend you read Emily Dickinson. She was very adapt at honing in on how a human feels.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 18, 2010)

Thank you, Reese. I've read Emily Dickinson. And what you have had to say is absorbed. :smile: 

And, sweetie, if reading my poetry is not your thing or a source of frustration don't feel obligated to read it just because it's up on the board. Plenty of people pass up on poems for their own particular reasons.

Laurie


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## Nellie (Jun 18, 2010)

Reese,

I think that the "grandmother" is mentioned in the 3rd and 4th lines of the poem:



> wooden womb for a woman
> as slight as a child.


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## Reese (Jun 18, 2010)

No, that doesn't reference a grandmother Nellie.

Laurie, that isn't my reason for commenting. I think your poetry is very apt. Which is the only reason I comment at all.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 18, 2010)

Hi, Resse. From the horse's mouth...





> wooden womb for a woman as slight as a child.


...does reference the grandmother.

Thank you. I'm glad you think my poetry is apt. Laurie


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## Reese (Jun 18, 2010)

"a women as slight as a child" does not make me think instantly of a grandmother. It could mean a woman who is shy. It could mean a woman that is scared for some reason. I've found lots of women are scared...for many legitimate reasons.

Also, wooden womb...what were you trying to relay with this line exactly? Maybe the two have something to do with each other, but I'm just not getting it?

Just let me know. I'm always ready to learn.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 18, 2010)

OK. Now poetry is always up for interpretation. That's what makes it interesting. "wooden womb" is her safe house.


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## Reese (Jun 18, 2010)

"wooden womb" is her safe house."

Ah, I didn't see that. But why...? Just because it's wooden, rigid and impregnable? Do you see how there is TOO much interpretation? You kind of have to simplify it a bit. If you're writing purely for yourself, then please let me know. Writing can be very theuraputic. But if your writing for a reader...then it's kind of different.


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## Chesters Daughter (Jun 18, 2010)

This is simply superb, Laurie. I echo Cindy (Nellie) from title to final line. Not a single nit to these eyes. You've brilliantly captured something that irks the hell out of me, the tragedy fan club. These people flock to trouble without an ounce of empathy, just to "look" and then revel in the fact that it didn't happen to them. I'm not saying all lookers fall into that category, but it does apply to many. How one can rush to see the destruction of another human being is beyond my comprehension. If they have no intention of helping, stay the hell home. Sorry, this reminds me of Cindy's (Gumby) piece about nosy people. and both themes set my blood afire. Excellent work, love.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 18, 2010)

Lisa, thank you, for appreciating the poem. I recall when I was living in Manhattan. Snowy and very icey. I'm walking along Amsterdam Avenue. There's this woman in a fur coat walking carefully on the ice. I as well but trying to speed up to get a gander at her coat (against fur, now). Then...a cab skidding off the street, hit her, throwing her up into the air. She fell face down with her spine split open. I prayed that she was dead. In an instant a "crowd" round gawking. I ran to the nearest storefront, I think a shoe repair shop. I told the man I needed to use his phone (no cell phones back then) to call 911, that a woman got struck by a cab. He said "No. I'm closing". (Not all New Yorker's are like this!) I can't tell you what went through my mind. I storm out and he stops me "Here, here. Use my phone. My wife just left minutes ago". There you go....


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## C Curtis (Jun 19, 2010)

Laurie,
I thoroughly enjoyed this piece from beginning to end (not in a dumb-struck gawk way).
Technically I especially enjoyed you linking L2 with L21. It looks great and sounds great.
I love that this poem (like other fantastic ones) is at once succinct and open to interpretation.
I also loved:
'tick-tock eyes'
and this section:


SilverMoon said:


> No grave concern, just a neighborhood
> as hungry as Haiti
> Grandmother bunches up memories
> in silver frames, she in charred slippers
> ...



It's so evocative and powerful and I can really hear your voice clearly.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 19, 2010)

C, Thanks! Glad you can hear my "voice". Always wonder if my poems are all over the place and my voice changes. Comforting to hear. Yeah, "tick-tock eyes" was fun to write. And I'm glad you liked that passage, especially.
Again, thanks. Laurie


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## Reese (Jun 19, 2010)

Your poem is all over the place. Don't be placated by other readers.

"and my voice changes."

Why does it change?

Poems are meant to be interprative, but not so much that I have to decipher everything that is going on in your head. The point of writing is to put an idea to paper in an articulate and and authorative way.

Anything else is just garbage.

Do you have control of what comes out of your head and how you put that into paper?


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## ash somers (Jun 19, 2010)

Reese said:


> ....
> 
> Do you have control of what comes out of your head and how you put that into paper?



I was just going to ask you exactly the same question, Reese. And perhaps you can share one of your pieces? So we can be shown .... ooops, I mean told, by way of example?

I think that would be an interesting exercise  

Regards, ash.


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## Chesters Daughter (Jun 19, 2010)

Bravo! Thank you, Ash. This piece is exceptional, Laurie, end of discussion.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 19, 2010)

Sorry, dear Lisa, it's not end of the subject since I seem to be the subject of "ATTACK". 

Resse, I understand you've been told by Ash to behave yourself last night. 

You were banned last week. It's clear to me that you are enjoying yourself, testing the waters. Perhaps, taking advantage of debate over the censorship issue?

I am bringing your sorry self to the TOP.


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## Reese (Jun 19, 2010)

Good call. Touche.  I had a poem I wrote about 5-6 years back, but after checking my memory sticks, I can't find it. :/

I'm just offering my opinion. I only wanted the author to think a bit before they write something.

Isn't it important that writers are "authorative" and "declarative."

Do you not agree?


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## ash somers (Jun 19, 2010)

Reese said:


> Good call. I had a poem I wrote about 5-6 years back, but after checking my memory sticks, I can't find it. :/
> 
> I'm just offering my opinion. *I only wanted the author to think a bit before they write something.*
> 
> ...



Yes, excellent advise, for all concerned. Shucks! Please, don't let that stop you Reese, you could start another one right now?

I wait with baited breath to share in your work.

Kind regards, ash somers.


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## HaroHalola (Jun 20, 2010)

SilverMoon - Absolutely "dream-like", an investigation of the human psyche from the perspective of surreality-_cum_-reality, as if they themselves are "dreamers," yet all-too-true, reminiscent of (http://poetryinbaltimore.com/smf/index.php?topic=17292.0), 'cept darker; the sonics, imagery combined ("as hungry as Haiti" /"scandal smoke from chimney
grey as a rat"), every line is literally a _gem!_, I will read this piece again & again, & from what I have read of your Work in my short tenure here, this has gone to a new level of accomplishment_ vis-a-vis_ finding your voice.  The title's multi-inference, & this:  "Their tick-tock eyes wild wide/voracious vermin, loitering," are superb!  TY -   _H'H._


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## SilverMoon (Jun 20, 2010)

Haro, I am nearly without words (hurry up, I say). Your very favorable critique of my poem is partly due to your influence, Poet Extraordinaire! I revel in imagery and am pleased that certain turns caught your attention. Amazing! Reading your big brother poem, "Skydriver" to my "Rubbernecking" caused me to smile and largely! Of similiar mind, here! All I can say now is _Gratitude..._Laurie


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## wacker (Jun 20, 2010)

Hello Laurie.

Initially when I first read this poem the title of it (in my opinion) didn't seem to fit. However I gave it a couple of days to see what other people had to say about it. After reading the poem again alongside their comments I began to see the picture you were displaying to the world.
I liked the way you described the onlookers viewing the scene from the sidelines, which is what the majority of people do in those situations... i.e. the house burning and they are just mesmerized by the scene unfolding.

wacker


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## SilverMoon (Jun 20, 2010)

Thank you, Wacker, for giving my poem much thought. A very fine compliment. Sadly, it's true. So many people turn tragedies into freak shows. Laurie


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## Robert (Jun 21, 2010)

Your piece was well put.  It was both enticing and absorbing, because of the story it had to tell.  How often do we find people who stop to "see" just because they are curious, then glad it isn't them?  And we write what we see and feel at the time, "in the moment".  That is the way it should be.  Well done.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 21, 2010)

Thank you so much, Robert! Writing about these things are very cathardic for me. I have very little tolerance for "morbid curiosity. Laurie


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## un named (Jun 24, 2010)

its amazing imagery i had to read it twice to really get it, or at least i think i get it lol

red tongues doing roof Hell Dance.

I love the way that line sounds. I couldn't figure out what about it was so good but there was something.  
anways it was a really good poem


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## SilverMoon (Jun 25, 2010)

Thank you so much, un named. Imagery is pretty much my thing, mostly.


> red tongues doing roof Hell Dance.


I talking about fire on the roof, here.

The story is about an eldery woman who's house is burning down. The neighborhood gathers round to gawk but especically to see the old woman come out of the house. How often do you hear about or see people driven to see others helpless in an accident? I have. People just stared and no one thought to call 911.

Thanks again! Laurie


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