Antonio's Rape

[saore]

Antonio's Rape---Revision (posted on February 25)

that zigzag bridge

reminded him of Spanish

cemeteries

with tin mirrors

and plastic flowers



on his bike he ventured
too far from his shadow--
death sprawled
on his dresser
like a headless chicken


the child grew old

covered by the leaves

under the hammock bridge ...

the weight of the man’s body

sucked his breath out



Narcissus
bled and died on his birthday ...
barely ten
with a swab in his rectum,
his face pinned to a night garden



Original

Antonio's Rape 




that zigzag bridge

reminded him of Spanish

cemeteries

with tin mirrors

and plastic flowers



on his bike he ventured

too far from his shadow--

death sprawls

on his dresser

like a headless chicken



the child grew old

covered by the leaves

under the hammock bridge ...

the weight of the man’s body

sucked his breath out



Narcissus

bled and died on his birthday ...

barely ten

with a swab in his rectum,

Shangri-La on his face

[Reilley]

A powerful piece, although it feels a bit disjointed. I'm sure there is a significant story behind this piece, but not knowing the story, I cannot connect the dark images of rape with the bliss of Shangri-La.

Try this editor's trick - read the poem backward, from last stanza to first. Do they s till makes sense, tell a story? If not, then perhaps you could re-work them until they do.

Loved the Spanish cemetery image.

Keep writing.

[Brigid Briton]

Hi Sergio,

I agree with Reilley's comment. I find this piece confusing. I'm not sure whether you are talking about the same person in each stanza, or two people, or three people.

I am not personally attracted to your subject matter, even if the story were more clear. Your last line about Shangri-La on his face definitely does not seem to be consistent with the horror and death of anyone who has been raped, let alone a ten-year-old child, and I think most people would be offended by the implication that the child enjoyed what happened to him. I hope this was not your intention, but it struck at least two of us that way.

It's one thing to deal with a difficult and horrible subject like rape, and it's another thing, altogether, to leave readers with the impression that the victim enjoyed it.

I hope you will consider the things that Reilley and I have said with an eye to re-working this.

Brigid

[saore]

I couldn't get the format of this so I had to post it as one piece but it is actually two people speaking.  I like what you are saying and hopefully will make revisions soon.  It has been entered in a competition.  No, my intent was not to suggest that the child was happy that this happened to them but that he took refuge in daydreaming about Shangri-la to escape his misfortune.

Thank you I will give careful consideration to what you have suggested.

Sergio

[Brigid Briton]

Well, I'm relieved to hear that wasn't your intent.

Good luck with your re-write.

Brigid

[saore]

Thank you Brigid.  That last stanza needs a lot of work or a complete re-write.

Sergio

[eiken]

Hi Sergio,
I like this poem too but cannot get the disconnects between the verses. They seem like a series of tanka to me but I like them, great visuals.

[saore]

Thank you eiken, they are a tanka sequence.  I have worked on that last line.

Note from Brigid: I have moved your revision to the top of the page, posted above the original. This is the way we prefer revisions to be handled. That way, people can see your most recent version first, and then scroll down and read the original just below it to show how the poem has evolved. We're all about learning here, and one of the best ways to learn is to see how the feedback of others, or simply reflection on the part of the poet, can lead to a better poem.

[Brigid Briton]

Hi Sergio,

Your revised last verse is much better. It conveys the horror of what has happened, which the old version did not do. I commend you for working so hard to make this a truly effective poem.

I still find it a bit confusing about what happened to whom, and have a few other things I'd like to comment about, but it'll have to wait until later since I don't have the time right now.

Great work on the revision. Keep it up. Always ask yourself: will my reader be able to see the story that's in my mind? If you think the answer might be "no", think about how you can re-word to make that story clear.

BTW, all revisions should be handled as I've done with this one. If you revise it again, simply go to your original post and post the latest revision above the first revision and the original. It's important to keep a record of your changes and that's the best way to do it!

OK, I'm back. I've asked questions in blue below to help clarify what's happening in this poem. I personally have a difficult time dealing with this subject matter, but am hoping that the questions I've asked will help you to see where some of the difficulties lie in the flow of this poem.

that zigzag bridge

reminded him (who? the rapist? the child?) of Spanish

cemeteries

with tin mirrors

and plastic flowers



on his  bike he ventured (again, who? Antonio is named in the title but Narcissus is in the last stanza)
too far from his shadow--
death sprawled (first you have him out on his bike, now we're back in his home looking at his dresser)
on his dresser
like a headless chicken


the child grew old (again, which child?)

covered by the leaves (this sounds like he's already dead so how did he grow old?)

under the hammock bridge ...

the weight of the man’s body (this act seems to precede the child's death, and yet it follows it in the poem)

sucked his breath out



Narcissus (is this Antonio? if not, what's the connection between them? Are you talking about two separate rapes?)
bled and died on his birthday ...
barely ten
with a swab in his rectum, (this sounds like something that would be done by a crime scene investigative team, after the death of the child, but it reads like it was concurrent with his death)
his face pinned to a night garden

***

I hope this helps, Sergio. The last lines are way too graphic for my personal taste, but, that aside, the above issues are what really makes this poem hard to follow, for me anyway.

Brigid

[eiken]

Sergio,
I love the comments given by Brigid, she has helped me so much with such comments and I was about to ask similar questions for clarity. I think it is great when you go away with comments and better your poem, it is a wonderful learning curve and you have done so well The questions Brigid poses are perfect for you to elaborate a little on the tanka to get the connections clearer for the reader. I love some ambiguity, it always works but to find the balance is the key. Great work.

[saore]

Brigid's questions are hard to answer, this is a very personal poem about my childhood.  Years latter when I went to visit my mother's resting place the memory of that horrible day came back to me.  It was me it reminded me of.  It was Antonio that rode on his bike, I am Antonio.  I didn't die but I felt like I was dead for many years.  It was hard for me to forgive my family for the circus they created over this unfortunate incident.  But still I blamed myself for it all for many years.  I was treated like Narcissus, the blame was all put on me.  This should never be this way.  I had to learn how to protect myself from other men seeking to fulfill  their lust with me.  My parents didn't speak to me for almost two years and I was only 10.  They sent me off to my grandmother's house and it was hell.

[Brigid Briton]

Brigid's questions are hard to answer, this is a very personal poem about my childhood. Years latter when I went to visit my mother's resting place the memory of that horrible day came back to me. It was me it reminded me of. It was Antonio that rode on his bike, I am Antonio. I didn't die but I felt like I was dead for many years. It was hard for me to forgive my family for the circus they created over this unfortunate incident. But still I blamed myself for it all for many years. I was treated like Narcissus, the blame was all put on me. This should never be this way. I had to learn how to protect myself from other men seeking to fulfill their lust with me. My parents didn't speak to me for almost two years and I was only 10. They sent me off to my grandmother's house and it was hell.

Ah, Sergio, I am so sorry that this horrible thing happened to you. That explains why you had trouble personalizing this in the poem...it was just too hard to deal with.

However, now that you are dealing with it, let me make a few more suggestions that might make meaning and flow of the poem more clear.

1. Make it personal. Start out by saying,
"That zigzag bridge reminded me...and then, in the second stanza, say something like "I hope you continue to heal and to forgive everyone who treated you so inhumanely.
remember venturing...", in the third, perhaps "I grew old..."

2. Narcissus? I wasn't familiar with the part of the Narcissus story that puts the blame on Narcissus for others being attracted to him. I think the part of that myth that most people remember is the part about him being so in love with his own image that he stared at his reflection in a pool of water, and did nothing at all else, and so died (presumedly of starvation).  So, I really don't think it does anything but confuse the issue to invoke Narcissus here. A ten-year-old boy is not to blame for this happening to him. Even if the ten-year-old were in love with himself, he's still an innocent.

3. Anyway, perhaps you could consider another way of ending. Again, make it personal. Start with something like: "I bled and died...." I would lose the part about the swab since it confuses the issue. As I mentioned before, it sounds like something a pathology lab or crime scene investigators would do post mortem.

Now that I understand the genesis of this poem, I think it's even more important for you to tell your story in a way that makes it clear what happened to you. I can't tell you how much I admire you for your bravery.

Remember that, even if you tell a story in the first person, you don't have to divulge that it was something that actually happened to you. I thinks it's important that you did disclose it in this case, but, for future work, remember that in poetry we may assume that the subject and the narrator of the story might not be one in the same person.

I am honored that you chose to be open about what happened with us.

I hope you continue to heal and to forgive everyone who treated you so inhumanely.


Brigid

[Cory Raymond]

Hi Sergio,

This is a very sensitive and painful subject and I commend you for sharing the truth behind the poem with us. All the best for continued healing.

Cory

[saore]

Thank you Brigid, Cory.  I can rewrite this in first person,  I don't think that will be a problem.  Thank you for the support.

Sergio

[SweetSilverBird]

I too was very moved by your poem. The brilliance in your writing , in my humble opinon, shines forth in the very first stanza, where you accurately describe a PTSD flashback so well that anyone could feel it. I know it is your own story, but not everyone can describe a flashback in such an emotive way. I recognized it at once!

I wanted to react negatively to the last verse, but I think it is because I have my own issues. Sometimes these things need to be talked about. All the latest trend is to just talk about effects, but not what started it. Once in a while it is important to address the Genesis.

Well done, Beautiful Rewrite.

[Fire Monkey]

I first want to say that just writing this poem is an accomplishment in my eyes, I think most people would not manage it. That said I would add that the poem is already good as it is in your rewrite, though I do agree with Brigid that it would be more powerful and clearer in the first person. I think it might also be more healing, though that is something only you can say for sure. To me, a poem such as this is, in part, a thing that heals the poet and hopefully it might also touch and help to heal others who understand and relate to it. I look forward to your next rewrite - this is a good work and I believe you can make it even better.

[saore]

Thank you SSB, thank you.

Sergio

[saore]

Thank you FireMonkey.  Thank you.

Sergio

[Cory Raymond]

Hi Sergio,

I was just wondering if you have done the re-write on this yet. I'm looking forward to it. Cory

[Daniel Mark Extrom]

Hi Soare,

You have already received some good advice on this piece, and you are open to revision. I won't revisit the other suggestions which are all very good.

I just wanted to say that, sometimes people write about themselves in third person because it is somehow a way to remove one's self from the message, because the message is too painful, and because one doesn't want to expose such a personal horror to the rest of the world, for reasons that are personal to the writer. And that is always the writer's prerogative.  The writer doesn't want the rest of the world to think of the writer as "that guy (or girl) that that horrible thing happened to." It's not like getting a leg blown of in Iraq where anyone can see that the leg is missing. That soldier has no choice but to show it to the world (allowing for prosthetics and long pants), and go forward.  But, your experience is different: it only has to be shown when you want it to, but of course that brings its own dilemma: the pain of keeping it all inside, which can inhibit the healing. So I don't blame anyone for writing first person events in third person form, but people will always wonder if it is really first person. That is the trade-off for writing and submitting for publication.

As to the last (original) line: Shangri-La: I took it as being death, a death that was welcomed because it meant the pain was now over, even if only for awhile. And, for someone who is religious, perhaps actual death was welcomed because it meant a trip to heaven or whatever afterlife that person believed in. That would be understandable.  From your later comments, I gather you meant it as being the death of a little boy, who would no longer be a little boy after that event, such that a new and justifiably angry young man was now born, and that angry young man is now (later) trying to come to grips with the loss of the boyhood that was taken from him so violently.

I think if I was a religious person, I would want very badly to believe in a heaven after that experience.

You write really well.  Keep going. And good luck to you.

Sincerely,

Dan