PIPS - Discussions (December 2017)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Pahn, Dec 21, 2017.

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    Welcome to the second part of PIPS!

    In this thread, we encourage you to read the entries and answer the discussion questions provided. Feedback and commentary are of course welcome, but remember this was meant to be fun and light. We're here to discuss the themes of the submissions, not to nitpick how they were written :) Please remain polite and if you do provide criticism, make sure it's constructive.

    First of all, thank you to everyone who participated! I received a handful of submissions and they were all quite fun! We're definitely going to be back in April 2018!

    Some of the submissions are anonymous -- please respect this request by the writer and do not try to pin it on someone, even if you recognize their writing. There are no winners, but every entry will be featured in a pinned Showcasing thread, along with their entry!

    There will be a reading done on Discord on Sunday January 7 @ 19h00 server time (Central time, GMT -6). Since it's the holidays, I figured the first weekend of January would be best for everyone who might want to pop in. I will be recording it as well and posting it on Iwaku's Youtube channel for everyone to enjoy. More instructions will be posted when the time comes!

    The themes for December's PIPS were:

    • Change versus tradition
    • Pride
    • Purpose
    • Violence
    • Optimism

    Between one and three themes were encouraged to be used.

    • In the following tabs you will have the discussion questions, which I highly suggest using! :) You are also free to simply comment on the submissions and say how you feel about them or how they made you feel.

      • Do you feel the themes selected for the poem were identifiable in the submission? If more than one theme, did a theme feel like it was the main one?
      • If a title was provided, did it mean anything in regards to the rest of the poem?
      • In your own words, what do you think the poem meant?
      • Are there any symbols? If so, what did they mean? Do you think they were universal symbols or did they arise from the context of the poem?
      • Did the poem provide an image? If so, what kind of image?
      • Do you feel the form (poetic form, rhyme scheme, line arrangement, etc) influenced how you interpreted the poem? Were they important elements?
      • What was the tone used? Did any words reveal the tone? Is it consistent, or does it change along the way?
      • What heavily connotative words were used? Did you feel any words had unusual or special meanings? If any words or phrases were repeated, why do you think that is?
      • Did you feel like you understood the meaning behind the poem? Were the writer's intentions clear or ambiguous?
      • If you were to read this poem out loud, how would you go about it? In terms of tone, rhythm, etc.
      • What parts of the poem interested or puzzled you the most?

      • Number/letter grades are highly discouraged as they tend to be arbitrary and to vary widely in interpretation. This applies to any form of comparative grading. It is better to use the discussion points from the previous tab for each entry based on its individual merit rather than assigning a grade.
      • Some entries were requested to be anonymous, please respect the writer's decision.
      • Discussions are encouraged to happen between December 21 and December 31, but if you wish to keep talking about the entries once the event is over, the thread should remain available for a few weeks.

    Have fun and even if you didn't submit a poem, everyone is encouraged to talk about the entries! :)


    Relax it's all in your head. (open)

    By: Anonymous
    Themes: Purpose, Violence

    My lips are chapped and my shirt is drenched with sweat,
    My palms are shaking, my knees buckling for the worry they undertake.
    I feel the heat from the closed-up room,
    Despite feeling the breeze of the air-con being loomed.
    I take a seat on the satin bed,
    Wondering whether I'm actually in over my head.

    For pain is felt and rarely seen,
    I tell myself for once, this will not be taken as another scene.

    Relax, it's all in your head.

    I tell myself that as I gripped the sheets tightly on my bed.

    The clock strikes three and the curtains were drawn in.
    My medicine box was scattered and free, sheets of tissues thrown overflew the bin.

    The mirror on the dressing table across me, had whiteboard markings of words,
    To describe the person in it I should actually see.

    Relax, it's all in your head.

    I looked at the palm of my hand, to the pills that I had spread.

    I distract myself by thinking about how the first time my head started to scream out loud.

    It was a few days before Christmas,
    Where lights and decoration in malls were witnessed.
    Pine trees were dressed with vibrant lights,
    Even my friend and I were brimming with excitement from the sight.

    Boxes and packages lined with ribbons and frills,
    We couldn't wait to have our fill at the annual Christmas grill.
    There would be gifts exchanges and a party with dances,
    Though what I looked forward to was when the food passes.

    Despite our intentions of wrapping up presents,
    It seemed like others too had their own celebration.
    The train was packed and my friend and I were separated,
    I held onto the door handle as a young girl suggested.

    The vehicle jolted and I almost fell,
    When a pair of hands held my waist firmly and well.
    I turned my head and found myself staring into a pair of eyes that told me he wasn't really himself.

    Relax, it's all in your head.

    I told myself that and ignored my feeling of dread.
    I smiled in thanks and faced forward to the young girl,
    And that was the moment my life begin to whirl.

    As the train hummed and sighed into the tracks,
    I felt the man silently attack.
    I felt his body against mine,
    Chills went right down my spine. He rubbed and moved his body against mine,
    I kept telling myself I wanted to die.

    When my body finally decided it had enough,
    I tried my best to move away by being rough.
    The young girl looked petrified at what was seen,
    But the man gave my body a look that was obscene.

    It took me a few moments to realise,
    But all I could do was cry and listen to consolation that were actually hidden lies.

    My friends would say that no one deserved this,
    But behind my back they would blame my attire with a hiss.
    Adults would hug me and empathise,
    But they told their children that they and I should cut ties.

    I begin to lie and isolate myself,
    That my room was the only escape from this place I call Hell.
    As I distanced myself so far away,
    Did my mistakes and flaws I weigh.

    "You're disgusting and a horrible person,
    For anyone would have stood up for themselves before the situation worsened."
    "You're nothing but a coward and an object,
    For maybe that's why you never gained true respect."

    When crying became a tiresome activity,
    I found that cutting myself broke me away from all this so called 'negativity'.
    I drew blood and focused on physical pain,
    It helped my mind and sanity to maintain.

    Relax, it's all in your head.

    I tell myself that as I opened my eyes to meet my floor mat.
    I look at the pills in my hand before swallowing them as I have planned.
    For who could understand and love someone like me,
    Who thinks that death is my only remedy.

    Love (open)

    By: @Dramma
    Themes: Violence

    Love is him saying sorry
    I lost my temper
    and me believing him.

    Love is repeating
    I'm sorry
    nervous as he raises his fist

    Love is the bruises that cover my body
    like flowers in meadow

    Love is a gasp,
    as his fist flies
    in a blink of an eye

    Love is the trembling
    When he's around
    vulnerable like a kid in the cold

    Love is the pain,
    growing with every day

    Love is the tears
    running down my cheeks

    Love is making excuses for him,
    because he doesn't make them anymore.

    Fate and Hope (open)

    By: @dark
    Themes: Violence, Purpose, Optimism

    Fate and Hope

    The changing of leaves flew in the fall winds, making the regular world look even more beautiful before Judgement day.


    A man holding the world on his shoulders..

    A modern day superman…

    With no powers.

    A predetermined destiny, one already foreseen. One who cannot change when their time came in the future. Lies told to protect the man who would save the human race.

    For what cost..?

    People who died in your name

    A fake messiah?

    A hero?

    A man breathing out words in a speaker bringing hope to everyone laid his hands to speak his final words.

    “This is John Connor… There is No fate in what we make..”

    Eyes of Gold (open)

    By: Anonymous
    Themes: Pride, Violence
    Poetic Form: Pantoum

    Filled with eyes of gold
    Teeth sinking into flesh
    Look upon the innocent that suffer
    Avarice will be your vice

    Teeth sinking into flesh
    Smirk at the face of terror
    Avarice will be your vice
    The call of the king is too strong

    Smirk at the face of terror
    Bloodied lavenders are sweetly scented
    The call of the king is too strong
    You are too intoxicated by power to notice

    Bloodied lavenders are sweetly scented
    Masking the stench of entrails
    You are too intoxicated by power to notice
    Death awaits you at the end

    Masking the stench of entrails
    Look upon the innocent that suffer
    Death awaits you at the end
    Filled with eyes of gold

    Priority Seating (open)

    By: Anonymous
    Themes: Violence

    Priority Seating by Anonymous

    Silence and a cup of fear
    I’m the ghost
    crushed beneath her bootheel.

    Lucky me, you say, lucky me.

    You’re floating in your jello island
    and you just don’t know.

    How the footsteps come and go,
    The strangers and the slamming doors,
    The smoke so thick it sickens.

    Booze and guns, thieves and liars,
    Deals and death, then
    Make a child for dollars.

    Shut up, she screams,
    Enjoy the show,
    or tomorrow you’ll be starring.

    Scars? Not enough.
    Pain. It should be worse.
    Trouble? I’ll show you some.

    Lucky you, she says, lucky you.
    It’s not right to be so lucky.

    Who was shot today.
    Who ran away.
    Who’s coming back tomorrow.

    You just don’t know

    Silence and a cup of fear
    I’m a ghost beneath her bootheel.

    Harbinger (open)

    By: @Greenie
    Themes: Purpose, Violence

    Shedding blood and felling foes
    Years of this endless toil
    Blood and screams
    Shortened lives, hastened deaths
    My life and my being
    A harbinger to your foes
    I simply a plaything
    Your powerful, dutiful tool
    Glistening red sword in hand
    To you I turn, my liege
    If it is peace you truly seek
    Let us end this now
    A momentary stabbing pain
    And happiness awaits us
    Fear not the darkness, my liege
    For where you go, I follow

    Stained Glass Windows (open)

    By: @HerziQuerzi
    Themes: Violence

    He's so beautiful,
    it makes me want to cry

    Depicted by holy mirage
    by a chapel's sharp planes
    in jeans and shirt
    of black and blue,
    such battered hues
    God help me

    Ash on his fingers
    and whiskey on his lips
    His hands make a painting of my skin
    Fingers over flesh,
    leaving lover's marks
    Oh God help me
    He's so beautiful
    He makes me want to cry

    He must be beautiful
    How else would he make me want to cry

    With his lover's hands
    he makes a painting of my skin
    in black and blue,
    such battered hues
    God help me

    And with ash on his fingers
    or whiskey on his lips,
    he makes me want to cry

    He makes me want to die

    He makes me want to cry
    He's so beautiful
    my broken mirage
    is so beautiful
    God help me

    Memory (open)

    By: @Quincunx
    Themes: Pride, Violence

    To touch an angel and watch her skin curl and char
    To relive the taste of copper and concrete
    To reach into one of our hearts and twist it from the inside out as I watch
    These are cinders on the hearth
    Flickers in the dreamlike past
    People who remember their bird bones breaking are a dime a dozen
    I have proven my worth
    Ascending winglessly
    A restless singing in my chest

    (Untitled) (open)

    By: @Holmishire
    Themes: Violence, Pride

    Both brothers, sisters stand ready to fight
    Dark, winged figures and flashes of light,
    Demons bringing us back the night—
    Angels singing of black and white.

    Silent knight, holy knight,
    Stay your blade; be not afraid.
    Quarrels fought, may be now forgot;
    Ashes and frost, your war has been lost.

    Friends and once foes, held sword, took knee
    Bodies soon froze by Lord's decree
    The age of mankind, ended at the last
    In death now aligned, mending hate long cast.

    Pomonus and Vertumna (open)

    By: @RiverNotch
    Themes: Change vs Tradition, Purpose

    Vertumnus and Pomona

    He. And should we explore the purposes of love
    by subverting the most ancient opposition?
    But the way is dark: a tree stands for its end.

    She. And on that tree hangs
    the lovelorn Anaxarete.

    He. It was Iphis who hanged himself:
    Anaxarete, for rejecting him, turned to stone.

    She. And around the corpse, apples
    ripe and heavy. But even as you drop
    your warty witch's face
    here at the end, your nails remain uncut,
    your arms still sag with age,
    and your breasts...

    (He seizes her. For a moment, all is still.)

    She. You've already transitioned,
    my brilliant little god.
    Now peel me like an orange.
    #1 Pahn, Dec 21, 2017
    Last edited: Dec 22, 2017
    • Like Like x 1
    • Love Love x 1
    • Bucket of Rainbows Bucket of Rainbows x 1
  2. (Sees one of the tabs is Untitled) this is gonna be @Holmishire 's- yeah. yeah, there it is
    • Useful Useful x 1
    • Bucket of Rainbows Bucket of Rainbows x 1
  3. I think none of the entries have explicit content this time?
  4. I don't believe so, no!

    It's been fixed... I definitely missed that when I reread the entire thread -__-
  5. Live reading is postponed indefinitely!

    I have an on-going cold and my voice is not ready for long reads. I will update once I feel better! In the meantime, feel free to start discussing the poems yeah? ;)
  6. Ahem. ::taps mike:: (Is this thing turned on?) I'm not very good at reviewing poetry, in general, so this will be short.

    I think it is noteworthy that every poem except one (I believe) had violence as one of its themes or the theme this merry month of December. It may also be why it is more difficult than usual to analyze them, as some of them are very personal statements.

    Also, my favorite one was by @Quincunx - although it was cruel to my heart, but that's the way it was supposed to roll. So it wasn't like the yeah! hooray! WHEEE! favorite -- it was - "I like how you write, OUCH, ARGH, WRITHING, PAIN & AGONY whydidyouhavetodothistome favorite." But yeah, good one there.

    Now I have to go read a chapter of Mary Poppins or sumpin'.

    Expecting to see more feedback -- Support the PIPS! Or otherwise, I will, hmmm, start posting more in chat.

    "Fly, you fools!" Mwah hah hah! :pearlclutching:
    • Love Love x 1
    • Thank Thank x 1
  7. ;_;

    I'm so touched; thank you!

    And I agree that these seem to be personal statements and that makes them hard to review; I don't want to be unintentionally diminishing or desecrating those statements. I do really like the poems here, though; my favorites were @RiverNotch 's because of the vivid images it brought to my mind, and @HerziQuerzi 's, because... I don't know how to put it; I'm not very good at reviewing poetry either. It just kind of hacked off everything else going on in my mind. It evoked a great sense of fear in me.

    Also, @Pahn , I think that RiverNotch's poem has a different title on the spoiler than within the spoiler?
    • Like Like x 1
    • Love Love x 1
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  8. I absolutely adore Priority Seating. That first stanza,

    "Silence and a cup of fear
    I’m the ghost
    crushed beneath her bootheel."

    enraptures me and doesn't let me go until the repeating culmination of the poem.

    All of the poems are fantastic but Priority Seating definitely appeals to me the most.
    • Like Like x 1
    • Love Love x 1
  9. Everyone but me went with violence. I guess I win the Special Snowflake award. Anyways, some notes.

    "Love" is kinda interesting. First two stanzas are about the speaker sort of identifying with her abuser. The third shows a more or less "objective" picture of the situation. Fourth and fifth are more of the same, albeit with something trite ("in a blink of an eye") and something weak ("vulnerable like a kid in the cold" -- one level of meaning down, yet not as colorful as comparing bruises to flowers). Six and seven are somewhat worse. Eight returns to the speaker identifying with her abuser: passively, as if she recognized that such identification was wrong, although I don't think the piece developed towards something as revelatory-for-the-speaker.

    "Eyes of Gold" is also kinda interesting, particularly because of the imagery. I think the writer could have added more meaning to her piece by introducing punctuation, though.

    The sonics in "Priority Seating" are strong. With regards to that, maybe shorten it to "heel" -- "boot" makes it plod.

    "Stained Glass Windows" reminds me of Madonna's "Like a Prayer", or the fact that the African Orthodox Church declared John Coltrane to be a saint ---- only gayer. Maybe a little too much come "He makes me want to die", though. Anyways, love it: wins Best of Show for me.

    I keep linking various phrases to various pop culture artifacts I recently revisited (eg SCP "relive the taste of copper and concrete", Anders Loves Maria "bird bones breaking", Pyre "Ascending winglessly") just as what I did with "Stained Glass Windows" in the preceding review, but in this case those links are unmerited -- the subtext of the poem doesn't really support it, and in fact there really isn't much in this piece to have it sprawl so much. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, considering this piece's length.

    Indeed, the current edit is supposed to be titled "Vertumnus and Pomona", not "Pomonus and Vertumna". Otherwise, reviewing my piece just like the above won't work, since I'd be terribly biased -- not that I can't let go of my biases, nor that I don't recognize my usual biases when reviewing other people's work, but I've found that whenever I review my own poetry I can't resist my ego. So instead, I'll talk about it only in response to someone else talking about it....

    And in response to someone else talking about it, thanks for the compliment! Just a bit of fun, though: if "Stained Glass Windows" I read as gay, I hope someone else reads "Vertumnus and Pomona" as sorta lesbian-transsexual (whatever all these terms, in the context of the poems referred to, are supposed to mean).