Hi Colin,
Good to read your stuff again! I think I agree with Christina, tho... It's
too undramatic! I'd go OTT and speed it up a bit... (Like the first line:
Everything y said, I knew y'd say -- which might be going much too far with
how you write, but still go a little further towards shouting!).
I mean Shakespeare (in his tragedy and history plays) often got his phrases
to sound a bit like yours - all measured looking and simple paced - but when
they got given air they often came alive... so, how about going somewhere
you can't be over-heard and really shouting them out! Really seeing if they
work! (tee-hee-hee... but I'm serious!!!!) Then breath deep and calm down
before you next see the guy...
Bob
>From: Christina Fletcher <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: newsub/confrontation
>Date: Sun, 27 Jul 2003 04:21:16 EDT
>
>Blimey Colin, this is dreadfully long and even the title's off-putting. I
>mean, who really wants to know about someone's confrontation with a
>colleague
>unless there's some juicy scandal to accompany it or the reader knows the
>people
>concerned? I wonder if it might work if you let rip a bit? Go on, call
>the
>colleague a right bastard and kick him/her in the shins:-)
>bw
>christina
>
> > Confrontation with a colleague
> >
> > Everything you said, I knew you would say.
> > Every trick you tried was met
> > by what I knew had to be said
> > against each devious ploy.
> > A friendship lost to leave this veneer
> > of goodwill. This I preserve
> > and survive without feeling clever,
> > or smug, only heavy.
> >
> > The burden of my nature and yours
> > was shaped in the brains of our ancestors-
> > my forbears, yours, and yours mine,
> > the generations stacked beneath like clay:
> > the landscape of the present day,
> > where all understand the hand to the ledge,
> > the paranoia when it's not what it seems.
> >
> > Virtue I cannot claim, but think myself straight, mainly,
> > yet quickly judged how you would act
> > as if it were my own thought,
> > how your gambit would unfold to box me off.
> > The guardian devil in my DNA gives me a kick in the guts,
> > urges manoeuvre when you reappear.
> > These thoughts fall like heaviness itself,
> > until I'm too weary, even to rise from my chair.
> >
>
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