I saw just saw this (I'm new to the forums) and I had to get in on it.
@Th4DwArfY1: I read the title as "Corn-cake" *facepalm. Anyway, I find that in poetry most the verses are padding for those one or two lines that can outlast stars. In your case, I really like this verse:
is really something (granted I thought you were talking about corn the first time around but, still, the verse is quite euphonious.)
I really like the assonance here but I think the "and so" on the last line breaks the rhythm. What about just "...the rain is heard"?. Also the "and the" in the second line, breaks the parallelism from the first line. What if you omit the "the"? Anyway, just thinking out loud, not a poet by any means so don't take it too seriously.
Any here is my some of my writing. Its the first two chapters of something I'm writing on a different forum I wanted some feed-back and hopefully to post the whole thing so I can get some recommendations for moving forward.
“Quien es tu!?” The rifle went up to shoulder length and the finger rested on the trigger. The men behind, restless but imitating.
“Uh…oh…damn…Rico!”
“Yeah?” replied Rico.
“You know Spanish right?”
“What just cause I have a certain complexion, I know Spanish? You know, it’s just this kind of bigotry and narrow-mindedness –“
“For the love of god, Rico, just shut up and answer the question!” A man behind Rico answered. He was squatting on the dry dust. Writing his name in the sand with a finger nub.
“Jesus, Lown you got somewhere to be?” replied Rico
“Rico, I swear to god –“ replied a woman further back.
“ – Quien es tu!?” The safety clicked out of place.
“Hold on a second.” The man in front held up his hand and looked back. “Rico, get down here or I’m gonna shoot you myself.”
“Sorry chief, I’m coming.” Rico leaped down from the dune and let the gun slack to his side and the sling dug deep into his shoulder-meat. “Alright, what’cha need chief?”
“Translate for me.” Said Chief.
“Racial discrimination” muttered Rico.
“What was that?!”
“He’s asking who we are” said Rico. “What’cha want me to say?”
“Tell him…tell him we’re the 82nd Airborne division, 18th Airborne corp.” replied Chief, flicking sand out his stubble.
“Somos soldados” said Rico, to the man with the gun. The gun remained where it was.
“God damn it, Rico, can’t you say what I tell you?”
“I did, chief”
“You said two fucking words”
“Spanish is an economical language.”
“Que haces aqui? Que quieres?” The man with the gun looked at Chief, Chief looked at Rico. Rico was looking at something shining in the sand, a coin perhaps, or a piece of metal. Chief nudged Rico. Rico snapped up and looked at the gun barrel.
“What’d he say?” asked Chief.
“He wants to know what we’re doing here.” Replied Rico, then he crouched and brushed the sand away and his fingers dug for the shining something.
“Tell him – Rico get up – tell him we got a radio signal that we traced to here. It might be one of our own, we just need passage and we won’t make trouble. Tell him that.”
“Estamos buscando un amigo - Un soldado como nosotros. Tenía una radio. Seguimos la señal hasta aquí. Sólo necesitamos un pasaje gratis para él y no causaremos ningún problema.” It was a coin – a quarter – and Rico pressed the hot, sun-blessed metal against his palm until the shape deposited itself in the skin, reddening the white flesh with heat. Then he put the coin in his trouser’s pocket and twirled his finger around some lint that was there and brushed some grains of sand from behind his earlobe with his other hand. The man with the gun smiled briefly and whistled and put up two fingers. The men behind him lowered their guns slowly, for their lives had value to others.
“Ven con nosotros, te guiaremos allí.” Then the man lifted his gun and walked to the front of his band and the rest of his men waited for him in silence and this was correct and this was right. The leader had earned his rank and the silent obedience of men. Through patience and practice he had earned this, and respect came with the practice and loyalty with the patience
“Where’s he going? Rico?”
“He says to follow him, he’s gonna lead us there.”
“He knows where it is?”
“Guess so.”
“Vamos!” Called the leader and waved to the intruders.
“…Alright. Spence keep an eye out behind you and stay to the rear. Jen I want you in front in case shit meets fan. Bear stay in the middle, check your ammo, I have an extra rack if you need it. Rico, you’re with me. Lown, you're with Bear. Try not to die, people. Move out.” And here too the men followed unflinching, for their profession was relinquished will: to move as one mass, one mind, such was the purpose of the soldier. And such was their purpose.
They carried great burdens across greater distances; they had no homes and therefore no rest and their boots were caked with the permanent dust of the restless and the homeless. The dirt beneath their finger-nails or the dried mud on their pants’ legs or the subtle grains of grit settled in their hair and in their beards and in-between their toes and their fingers, these could tell you where they had been and you might see that they had travelled far, for the dirt was not all alike and came from diverse sources. But still, you would not know them, for their eyes held a grim depth, suspended between apathy and empathy. They were beings of gray shade, seeing neither black nor white; walking between colors and morals.
Each of them carried a weapon that had favored them, though they themselves did not favor weapons. So skilled and replete with violence, that they despised it to the core. Hated it, as only the born and bled killer can hate it. Yet their existence was welded to the smooth metal, just as the smooth metal was welded to itself.
Chief carried a pair of pistols, .45mm; they were belted to his sides and they were light and worn and suited Chief, for he was the oldest amongst them; wisest and weakest. Rico carried a M79 Grenade launcher and a rack of 40mm grenades across his chest and waist and each grenade weighed half a pound and the M79 weighed 6 lbs.
This was a burden, heavy in the sun or when the footing was soft but not so heavy as the M2A1 heavy machine gun that Bear carried; 84 lbs according to the owner’s manual. Although it sometimes felt heavier depending on who you asked and what the weather was like.
Jen carried a Steyr AUG, weighing 8 lbs; she carried two spare clips and a silencer but never had need for them. Her weapons were her eyes and the pair of binoculars that hung around her neck; she was slow to the draw and small, but her aim was true. Rarely did she reload, for her bullets rarely missed their mark.
Spence carried the M40 sniper rifle, an outdated weapon by his standards, but a dear one. The rifle was his father’s and his father had used it in the war and his father before him, and there were deep notches on the stock telling the grim history of the gun and the souls it had snatched mid-life. And not all the notches were old. It weighed 14 and a half pounds and this was heavy to Spence, for he was thin-limbed. And he was nervous; perpetually aware of all dangers, real and imaginary, superstition compelled him to be at edge always, and he missed nothing.
Last there was Lown, who carried an ESW3 Electro-laser rifle, it weighed 7 lbs but the energy storage container which he carried on his back weighed 65 lbs and this was a burden which he bore with silence, for his weapon was modern and uncommon and strong.
They carried also personal items, and perishables, and photographs; once ,these were heavy, but now, no longer.
The spanish men carried what they could find, and no more, for they were not soldiers. They carried tents and waterskins and rations packaged by softer hands than theirs. They wore bandannas around their mouths to guard from dust and sometimes they would wet the bandanas and cool their dry faces. They used weapons whose operation was beyond them, whose maintenance was beneath them. And their aim was not always sure. But of them, a few had the unshakable faith in metal that comes only from battle. Their arms were always steady, and their guns, even in death, faced the right way.
Honor among these men and mutual respect between them. They walked with a graceful gait, loping lightly yet leaving deep prints in the sand. Not yet forgotten, though the wind forever blows...
“How much farther Chief?” Spence called out from the back.
“Don’t know...but the signal’s getting stronger. Hang in there.” Chief kept his gaze on the locator and brushed away a fly that had landed on the green-black screen, then he flicked a switch at the side and device died down. He put the device back into his pack as he walked, and took out his canteen and drank a little.
He poured a little of the cool water into his hands and washed them and tapped his forehead and neck with the wetness. A breeze picked up the moisture and cooled him, and he sighed in pleasure. He capped the canteen and let the fabric cut into his neck. He looked back and saw Lown and Bear chatting quietly to themselves, their guns at their sides. And he saw Spence looking back every few seconds and muttering under his breath. The little cross of his silver necklace was in his mouth and fell out whenever he turned to look back, but he put it back in his mouth unconsciously, for it was his wife’s and he believed it to be lucky and it still smelled of her.
Then Chief looked to his side and saw Rico playing with the coin he’d found, twirling it in his fingers, and sometimes dropping it but always grabbing it before it fell. He was chewing gum, mashing the white gum-flesh with his back teeth and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a large pack of gum, half-filled, and took a stick and peeled the silver paper with one hand. Then he rolled the gum into his mouth and saw Chief and offered him a stick. Chief put up a hand and shook his head and turned forward. He saw Jen watching the spanish men carefully, the land was even and she could see very far into the distance. She could see the shadow of mountains etched against the horizon, and she thought of how cold the high air would be around this season and shivered.
Then Chief looked to the ground ahead of him and went back to his thoughts. Many things crossed his mind: his mission, his weapon, his crew, his family...and then he was tired and silent. Threads of thoughts bounced around in his mind but he paid little attention to them. He sipped water from his canteen and could feel sleep leadening his eyelids and he hummed to himself to ward it away.
They walked until sunset, then set up camp, for there were worse things than coyotes in the desert darkness. The spanish men drew up their tents and their leader spit orders to them; a campfire was started with some old newspapers and a lighter, and the men gathered around it and set up the tents around them. Some of them were exhausted and dropped to their sleeping bags, some not even bothering to unfurl their mats, using them as a pillow and lying in the cool sand.
Then weary hands reached deep into their broken bags and poured forth cans of beans and slabs of preserved meat and stiff old bread. One of them had a sealed jar of raspberry jam, another had the foresight of bringing salt, still another had brought a package of hotdogs and a bottle of ketchup. And then there some who had full, prepared, meals that smelled of soft features and warmth and home. They were the luckiest and led the hardest lives.
And each man could cast his lot into the fire and it would be cared for by more capable hands, for a few among them were skilled cooks. But the price of such expertise was the even distribution of the goods, and a man might keep his jar of jam to himself and dip his fingers into the goo and eat of it, and a man might cook his own beans, and though some of the beans would be raw or burnt, still they were all his, for he had found them through his own merit, and it was his to share or keep as he pleased. Yet the men were not selfish and shared their profits without hesitation, for a well-cooked broth of meat and beans, eaten by the fire, among heat and friendship, was more filling than a handful of jam, eaten in isolation.
And always, the food was offered to the leader and always, refused. For he alone was entitled to whatever he wished; but could not take it if he wished to remain so entitled. The leader ate alone in his tent and did not mix with the men except to give orders and encouragement. The men needed time to themselves to complain and laugh and sigh of home, and they could not do this in front of the leader for that would be disrespect and disgrace. A serious offence. And the leader understood this and kept away.
“Should we set up camp for the night, Chief?” asked Bear, he was squatting and disassembling his gun, putting the parts on a small laid-out blanket to keep out the sand. Chief was looking at the procession of the spanish men and thought for a moment and looked around. Rico, Jen and Lown were sitting and playing cards and Spence was cleaning his gun as Bear was. Then Chief made up his mind.
“Yeah...alright. Go ahead and set up the tent and the mats. Eat if you’re hungry, but leave enough for getting back. I’m gonna talk with their leader, Rico come with me.”
“But Chief, I’m winning!”
“Now, Rico!”
“Goddamnit. Always me. Hey Bear, you wanna to take over? I’ll give you 25%, got a killer hand.”
“No thanks; don’t gamble.”
“Of course not. Spence? 25%?”
“Bad luck to be gambling in the full moon, Rico. Bad luck.” And Spence kissed his necklace.
“Rico! Get over here!” said Chief.
“I’m coming Chief, one sec! Come on guys, gimme a break, meet me half-way.”
“Fuck you, Rico. The last time I had guard duty and you were supposed to relieve me, you just slept. So fuuuuuuck you.” And Lown smiled with malice and Rico threw his cards down and walked away, and Jen laughed as she revealed her cards and the took all the cigarettes and lit one up to blow smoke in Lown’s face. Lown coughed and turned red. “This game is rigged. I swear to God you guys are all cheating.” And Jen laughed and started to cough, for she did not smoke. “You shouldn’t be smoking Jen” said Bear.
“Aww, shut up. I’ll do what I want.” said Jen, but she drilled the cigarette into the sand all the same. And Bear smiled and shook his head. Then they got up and began unpacking the tent. They only had one, but it was large and could accommodate them all. They unfurled their sleeping bags and took out their ration bricks and cut out a piece. It tasted of medicine and soil, but it was filling and nutritious and it was food.
“Shiiiiiiit. Did you see those guys? They had hotdogs and beans and one of them had a bottle of ketchup. Oh god, I haven’t tasted ketchup in so long. You think they might share a little if I ask?” Lown was lying in his sleeping bag looking up at the tent ceiling; his hands were behind his head. Spence was snoring quietly in a corner. Bear was driving a small brush through the barrel of his gun and Jen was munching on a piece of ration brick.
“You don’t even speak spanish, dumbass, they wouldn’t know what the hell you were saying” said Jen.
“Oh yeah...hey maybe you should go Jen...they’d understand that.” replied Lown and turned toward Jen and smiled.
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Well you know, show a little skin, a little leg - ” A small rock flew inches from Lown’s nose. Lown sat straight up. “That almost hit me you bitch!”
“Almost ain’t good enough” And Jen picked up a another rock. “Enough. Settle down. Chief wouldn’t want you panhandling anyway, you know how he is.” said Bear. And they all remembered Chief and forgot their rage and Lown lied back down and Jen put her rock down and started chewing again. A silence came over them and they could hear only Spence’s soft snoring. Then Chief came in and Rico behind him. Lown sat up and Bear stopped cleaning to look at Chief, Jen stared at a small container made of newspapers Rico was holding; it looked like a bowl, but was less round.
“I’ve talked to Jimenez -- that’s their leader -- and he says we’ll be moving out at dawn. Something about Nightcrawlers, and his men needing rest.” Chief brushed some dust from his uniform as he spoke, then looked around at his men. Rico went quietly to his sleeping bag which had already been unfurled. He handled the newspaper bowl with care. Chief turned to leave, but then stopped, remembering something. “Oh, and they gave us some food. I told them we didn’t need any, but he insisted. Rico has it. Rico, make sure you share that food. And save some for Spence. Oh and also, Bear you’re first watch, Jen, you relieve Bear and Rico you relieve Jen. Lown and Spence can rest, they had watch last time. I’ll be in my tent if you need me.” Then Chief turned to leave again.
“Uh, Chief did you find out who these people are?” Bear called to Chief, but Chief did not turn. He waved his hand. “Ask Rico.” He said. And all eyes turned to Rico, who was carefully tearing open the paper cover of the bowl. Then Chief left and Jen and Lown got up and went toward Rico to see the food. Bear stayed where he was and continued to clean his gun, for he was assured of his share. “Leave some for Spence” he said.
“Give it here, Rico, you’re taking too long” And Lown reached toward the bowl, but Rico was too quick for him and snatched it away.
“Fuck you, Lown. I lost three packs of cigs because of you. Fuck off.” said Rico.
“Hey man, I didn’t even win ‘em, Jen here did.” Lown gestured toward Jen and Rico looked at Jen for confirmation. Jen nodded and smiled. “Straight flush, 10 high” she said.
“Shit. I just had a two-pair.” said Rico
“The hell? You went all in on a two pair? Are you retarded?” said Lown.
“Seemed like a good idea at the time.” And Rico shrugged and Lown and Jen started to laugh. Rico smiled and all was well between them. Rico brought forward the bowl and brought it toward Lown. “Alright, but now we’re even for the not-relieving-you business.” said Rico. And Lown smiled and said “Alright.” Then he ripped apart the cover and there was a thick broth with chunks of meat and vegetables and beans floating, half-submerged, near the top. A breeze lifted the smell to their noses and their tongues wettened from pleasure. “Smells pretty good.” said Jen in a dazed way.
“Hold up, I got something really nice for this.” said Rico and got up and went toward his pack which was at the foot of his sleeping bag. He rummaged through the pockets, at first sure, but then seeming to search at random. Finally he pulled out a bunch of silver spoons and they tinkled against each other like toasting stars and Rico brought them toward the broth. Lown looked on in wonder and Jen with him.
“I think I love you right now” said Lown.
“Keep it in your pants Lown” said Rico and he smiled and handed a spoon to every person. Then they put some of the broth into a cup and covered it and saved it for Spence and some of it they gave to Bear who poured it into his own bowl. Then Rico and Lown and Jen ate together from the paper bowl and filled their stomach with warmth. Bear looked on and sipped his broth, then they all went to sleep and Bear went outside, and reassembled his gun and kept watch.
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Topic: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___ (Read 296142 times)