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	Posts: 489Threads: 182
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		Her beauty took me from an hourly motel in Tucson
 to the Viennese waterways
 of paradise.
 
 Sweat, shame, and distrust
 brought me back to an
 empty wallet and a
 shattered ego.
 
 She didn’t even pretend
 to come with me.
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
	Posts: 56Threads: 22
 Joined: Jul 2014
 
	
	
		 (07-17-2014, 02:26 AM)Wjames Wrote:  Her beauty took me from an hourly motel in Tucson
 to the Viennese waterways
 of paradise.
 
 Sweat, shame, and distrust
 brought me back to an
 empty wallet and a
 shattered ego.
 
 She didn’t even pretend
 to come with me.
 
I like this a lot. That first stanza is potent, especially the motel reference (conjures up the idea of impermanence from the start). I feel like the middle stanza, in comparison to the rest of the poem, is a little too plain for me. It seems as if the middle serves to explain the crypticness of the poem's purpose and I personally dislike veiled explanations. The end stanza is great; it makes all the movement in the poem, which originally felt like movement meant for two, a misguided journey for one. Sometimes we're so caught up in loving that we neglect to recognize how our partner might not be feeling the same way. Again, I like this a lot.
	 
"Where there are roses we plant doubt.Most of the meaning we glean is our own,
 and forever not knowing, we ponder."
 
 -Fernando Pessoa
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		Hi I like this but also felt that the middle stanza was letting this down.  In particular i think there is too much focus brought into the emotional side of this which is overdone.  i would like to see some more detail to round the images from the first stanza (which works very well).  You have told me an hourly rate motel so I am getting a daytime image...maybe pad out this with a further referance to the strength of the sunlight to highlight the sweat or the empty wallet.   
Your poem, I like where you have directed the attention, it is nicely done.  Good closure 
all the best AJ.
  (07-17-2014, 02:26 AM)Wjames Wrote:  Her beauty took me from an hourly motel in Tucson
 to the Viennese waterways
 of paradise.
 
 Sweat, shame, and distrust
 brought me back to an
 empty wallet and a
 shattered ego.
 
 She didn’t even pretend
 to come with me.
		
	 
	
	
	
		
	Posts: 489Threads: 182
 Joined: Jan 2013
 
	
	
		Thanks for the comments guys, I'll do some thinking on the middle stanza.
	 
		
	 
	
	
			JeffreyGonell Unregistered
 
 
		
 
	 
	
	
		I get the underlying meaning in this. You paid for pleasure, and feel empty afterwards. Well put.
	 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
	Posts: 5,057Threads: 1,075
 Joined: Dec 2009
 
	
	
		i quite like this, hate the title but like the poem. like the couplet best.   (07-17-2014, 02:26 AM)Wjames Wrote:  Her beauty took me from an hourly motel in Tucson
 to the Viennese waterways
 of paradise.
 
 Sweat, shame, and distrust
 brought me back to an
 empty wallet and a
 shattered ego.
 
 She didn’t even pretend
 to come with me.
		
	 
	
	
	
		
	Posts: 489Threads: 182
 Joined: Jan 2013
 
	
	
		Yeah the titles pretty weak, but I can't think of anything now. Thanks for reading
	 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		I'd offer as an alternative title, "Busted". Meaning broke, and found out by his sense of shame. I think what you describe is nearly archetypal, at least for young men. 
 dale
 
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
 The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		 (07-30-2014, 08:42 AM)JeffreyGonell Wrote:  I get the underlying meaning in this. You paid for pleasure, and feel empty afterwards. Well put.Jeffrey, I do not think you are stupid...but if you continue to hijack threads with your own postings I may be under peer pressure to review my opinion. Post your own threads and if you do not know how ask a young person.
 Mod.
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		"Her beauty took me from an hourly motel in Tucson
 to the Viennese waterways
 of paradise.
 
 Sweat, shame, and distrust
 brought me back to an
 empty wallet and a
 shattered ego.
 
 She didn’t even pretend
 to come with me."
 
 A quick thought about the title. I think your intention is something about beauty being skin deep, about the illusory qualities of beauty. The theme and narrative of the poem parlay that idea into one about transportation. My synopsis is: guy sleeps with prostitute and has a good, but romanticized, experience. Ultimately, the exchange gets the job done, but he realizes he was actually looking for more. For the kinda of things perhaps available in a healthy relationship.
 
 The imagery is off, and I'd guess deliberately so. The romanticized motel room *should be* some other bedroom, like a Viennese hotel overlooking the waterway. So, the moment of transportation links not to intercourse itself, but to the events leading up to it. The narrator, chiefly, is romanticizing the bargain.
 
 So, a title that encapsulates the idea of transportation, beauty as illusion, self-deception, a double-edged sword perhaps, or the idea of failed substitution would be relevant.
 
 This, too: the reference to the ego is evocative. Perhaps consider playing a the idea of an ouroborus.
 
 Found this on Wikipedia:
 
 The Jungian psychologist Erich Neumann writes of it as a representation of the pre-ego "dawn state", depicting the undifferentiated infancy experience of both mankind and the individual child.
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		Loved how this poem depicts a situation describing temporary content that fades to shame. I think it captures the dry nature of the event as well as a feeling of frustration. Thanks for the read enjoyed this one quite a bit!
	 
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.--mark twain
 Bunx
 
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
	Posts: 489Threads: 182
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		Thanks for reading and commenting everyone.
 Busted is better than Beauty, Dale, but I'd like to try and think of something that mixes some of the things Crow mentioned together before I change it.
 
 The ouroboros brings up some interesting ideas Crow, I've got some stuff to mull over here.
 
		
	 
	
	
			Random Phoenix Unregistered
 
 
		
 
	 
	
	
		I'm sorry, but this kills me! My husband cheated with a prostitute. Is this how he felt? Your poetry is lovely, but it aches like the pulse of blood beneath a bruise.
	 
		
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