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Cornered in superseded eyes
O' that my sonnets were never mine
That it were not these inked hands which signed
the same name twice
or one even once
in correlation to
a second's broadness re-redefined
Not your words demised or adhered onto
the bridge ye crossed when ye did not get through
is not relative or completely true
Is not essence non-personal with or without you, too?
numberless genderless
21 yr. old woman staking stuffed nonsense
looking to where superseded eyes have passed
and hurriedly laughed with chimes just as fast
as hands having fed
spewing feedback
And that I have deservedly argued that Back
then forth
only in my mind
is a plight enough for I to grow up with mine insides;
wherein, there, I exchanged my youth for philosophy:
at least it got the better half of me remembering
"my" gluttonous
Norwegian
yang assuring me
God could not write from Michigan
nor admit harm committed unto fanatic morality
the ecclesiastical mirrors will cross
yet will never
aim to meet;
have to have to misjudge me
in turn I command no one from any of thee...
just things
Juxtapose one dimensions: ,-me
please
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This one hard for me to follow but very well worded. I am just reading a few of your things to get an idea of your overall range. Iw ill do my best to give adequate critiques, but sometimes I am limited by my misunderstanding of the written word.
RJA |
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| Wow, this is my favorite of yours, so far. It reads like American Shakespeare. I love it when people do their own things with words (re-redefined.) "...assuring me/God could not write from Michigan" sounds soo nice. |
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Grounded Vertigo: Thank ye for reading and sharing your experience with me.
Emphassis: Hey now :) What I said was not an insult or threat. Making a statement such as poetry having to rhyme is rather close minded, don't you think? Don't you think? Rhythm is important. Lucid Imagery. Ruthless Honesty: vital. But rhyming is not the basis of an alphabet's alignment. It is one thing to prefer poetry which rhymes, yet another, entirely, to think that a three year old's impulsive inexperience would equally substitue for a strategic depiction full of an experience, truth, or circumstance which did not rhyme when it happened
or happen to rhyme. Ya dig? I think it all should be given an even eye when read, -without bias. After you have read it, -go onward :)
The best ye've read on this site? Those are hard words to swallow! A close friend of mine, whom wants me on her shelf, also thinks this is my best piece. Your words are broader though; thank you for them. Do keep reading, for I will keep striving to do better. Have you read any of Solaris' poetry? Give her a try (or two)
I have thought of revising that whole stanza, you mentioned, before you mentioned it. Shall do. |
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In comment to your comment I just have to say that smiling doesn't take away an insult or a threat. I have always been one to speak my mind and for that I am respected and hated. I have kept friends because of it and lost it and I shall never yield in my ways of that.
In regard to your poem. I'd say this is the BEST piece of poetry I've read on this site, ever. Including mine. Yes, the second part didn't rhyme, word for word, but there is a rhythm. Not just a series of words. All good poets will ease their extremities outside the box from time to time. But if you jump outside the box, you have abstract art, and again, I say my three year old niece could paint that.
ONE piece of criticism. Maybe not even that, but just a layout problem. Depending on if this shall ever be read.
"the ecclesiastical mirrors will cross
yet will never
aim to meet;
have to have to misjudge me"
At this point in the poem it's fairly fast paced, and I personally feel it breaks rhythm by separating "yet will never... aim to meet". I believe it should be the same line.
The end. Thanks for letting me read. |
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| I really enjoyed reading this piece. I agree with the others that have commented that the use of old english words makes this piece into osmething special. It's a beautiful read. |
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