Pipes scale walls in empty apartments,
haunted by the spirits of people
hung by rafters for sheer joy.
But now we have a better way.
The boredom within this instant contains
endless centuries of progressive thought,
each ending with a red-cone-blinking-light
and a sign solemnly reading, “Dead End.”
Instead, a single device offers peace
in place of fruitless study and thought.
It waits patiently, with dead circuits,
powerless.
When suddenly, light stretches forth,
like walls that extend into heaven,
and each speck of light is a pore
on the face of some lowly creature.
It finds itself crawling along the belly
of something greater than itself,
looking for a place to sink into fur
and begin draining blood.
Pixilation at a great distance aside
a single image now glows bright,
green like the fumes off toxic waste
overflowing with helpful distraction.
Towers puncture the sky, scar landscapes,
as far as the near-sighted eye perceives.
Blinking and humming without regard,
to the idiot masses stumbling below.
Millions make a pilgrimage to this idol
Lined up for miles with stones in hand
screaming preprogrammed phrases,
beating chests, drowning each other out.
Single parents take each child,
more out of fear than curiosity,
and the children take their children,
never to be left out of the herd.
As the water of life slowly boils away,
it leaves a sticky residue behind,
lime and rust deposits
sickly yellow, orange, and green.
The fire underneath -- a star,
constantly churning gases,
imploding until the fuel runs out.
Supernova, black-hole.
Under the lid, pressure shifts
and releases in a piercing scream.
But no one dares take it off the burner,
not to be reactionary or childish.
All these components must be
a greater plan by an invisible creator;
or some sort of science experiment,
the grade received far below-average.
Every nanosecond creating a life,
and taking a life too,
that thought it was important,
By a reasonable chance.
But when perception was taken away
by the public, for this public existence,
it ended in the blink of an eye.
no one knew any different.
Thousands of nanopeople,
prematurely crushed
but left to go on living
as though death or god were at the door.
Imagining death without a leg to stand on,
and the doorstep long since rotted to dust
Black-winged angels fly in the windows
to put them out of their misery.
Hanging from the bottom of an airplane,
on America’s Stupidest People
Maiming Themselves,
twice a day by popular demand.
Millions of insignificant nanoinsects
stepped on; as an activist group is formed
to save their natural habitat,
from the boots of passers-by.
The tips of fingers transmit a signal;
a fire has broken out in the heart.
The nervous system is temporarily off-line
due to technical difficulties.
It has become non-compliant,
Too much paranoia and a headache
caused by intravenously amphetamines
to keep the fat from settling into place.
It liquefies into fine, pasty goo
that lines the vents of this skyscraper
and builds up in the brain as euphoria.
Dizziness makes life a bit more bearable.
In the end there was a hollow, sunken feeling.
A broken bone that splintered off
like the branches of a tree,
made into a notebook
for a manic-depressive teenage girl.
A place for transcribed bipolar dreams,
broken poems, and sick thoughts,
flower buds frozen on the stem,
too afraid to ever blossom for anyone.
Frightened into submission,
she’ll make a good office worker,
bear a few pudgy children,
and die a quick death.
With any luck she'll go loudly,
caught on someone’s web-cam,
strapped to the bottom of an airplane:
Episode number twenty-six.
Her children can use her saved money
and if she thought to be insured,
enough to buy a new mother,
found in wide screen, surround sound glory.
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
My perceptions of this particular piece are that technology is threatening to crush modern society (as hinted in the lines ‘single parents take their children’- high divorce rate, and ‘they take their children’s children’- suggesting the rise of teenage sexuality.) and that the internet has the power to change people, for better or for worse, but it can dry up creativity and independent thought. There is a certain melancholy within the poem, the tone of voice kind of pessimistic, and there is a hint of Orwellian observation with its stock characters and story of foreboding. The flow of the poem was steady which I liked but I never got the metaphor for the tree. Other than that, it was a thought-provoking read.
Millions make a pilgrimage to this idol
Lined up for miles with stones in hand
screaming preprogrammed phrases,
beating chests, drowning each other out.
Very powerful word choice and structure. Intense meaning.
as though death or god were at the door.
God should be capitalized.
America’s Stupidest People
Maiming Themselves,
Why is this italicized?
You come in completely strong. You caught me from the first few lines. Eventually you get even harsher in every word that you say which surprised me in that I didn’t think it would come out any more hard hitting than the beautiful metaphors and imagery you have in the first few beginning stanzas. However within those stanzas, and this may be just me, I feel like I lose the concept of what you are talking about specifically. I don’t know what it is but I feel that the beginning stanzas have less relevance to each other then when you get further off into your poem when every word is connected. This is why I think maybe more should be done within the three first few stanzas.
I don’t necessarily if I like it or not that you introduce a character so late into the poem. I do love everything about you’re descriptions here and am adding to my favorites. I just feel that the girl is a little random. ONLY A LITTLE. What I would maybe change is have MORE lines before hand kind of foreshadowing a tale of a young lady growing old. I know you have some children lines but make more. Because I know the main theme that you’re going for is a reflection of society. However I do think that if there is a story involved it should be involved throughout. It works very well this way but add more undertones to this being a story in the beginning and i think that this will improve by 110%.
Good. Very good. You’ve set the background. Now I want part 2- defiance. Defiance against the human condition(ing) we muck ourselves up with. And why we create such massive/mundane/morasses of inane goo- and live them, wallow in them, and even go so far as to extol them.
I think the structure and punctuation are appropriate for how you want this poem spoken- no complaint there.
Thank you for a good read. I enjoyed it. Bibelot
I do hope I understood the poem.
It’s a bit long, but thats okay. The beginning is a little confusing.
The last half is good, its clear and it makes much more sense.
This is very good, the description about the bipolar girl made a good ending. Some what scary, but good. Good job, keep it up.
Very good imagery.
It is relatively tight, but as you said, it came from a piece of ranting prose – and the remainder of this lengthy past still endures, somewhat.
Another general comment: your choice of words occasionally bristles with narrowly defined modern terms (not meanings, but terms), while you are speaking of events and artefacts in a broadly sweeping view. If the breadth of the word would be matched to the breadth of the picture, a resonance would makes the image stronger. Also, dated words (all the nano stuff, for example) create a dated (hence, short lived) construct.
Another general comment: words like “place”, “something” are dark gray, and they bleed away the color and the contrast from the surrounding words.
A few spots to clean/tune:
In the absence of punctuation (I think adding it in a few more spots, like this one, would not diminish your rhythm, but would help with deciphering the message), hard to see if it is “the spirits” “hung by rafters” or “the people” “hung by rafters” (one can figure it out, but this is a slowdown in reading the piece…).
“Instead, a single device offers peace
in place of fruitless study and thought.
It waits patiently, with dead circuits,
powerless.”
At this point, before reading the rest, the first two devices that come to mind are a TV and a flashlight (each with its own set of connotations). Which one would you rather focus on at this point in the poem – or which one would you rather have your reader would focus on?
“When suddenly, light stretches forth,
like walls that extend into heaven,
and each speck of light is a pore
on the face of some lowly creature.”
Here – again, the TV and the flashlight continue to fight for the place (“speck of light” would mean two different things – but the imagery is good in either one).
“and begin draining blood.” – maybe, “drawing blood”? This way, the action is more malevolent.
“Pixilation” – pixelation? Are we talking about pixies or pixels?
“a single image now glows bright,
green like the fumes off toxic waste
overflowing with helpful distraction.”
Which one is overflowing? The waste, the fumes, or the image?
“as far as the near-sighted eye perceives.
Blinking and humming without regard,
to the idiot masses stumbling below.” – perhaps, a comma after “perceives” with a non-capitalized “blinking”. I would – everywhere – bring capitalization in line with whatever unctuation you choose to keep.
“Millions make a pilgrimage to this idol
Lined up for miles with stones in hand” – again, “idol,/lined up”. Idol is not lined up, millions are.
“Single parents take each child,
more out of fear than curiosity,
and the children take their children,
never to be left out of the herd.” – “take” may be a bit neutral. Drag? Smother? Chain? Something with more defined action.
“lime and rust deposits” – comma after “deposits”.
“The fire underneath—a star,
constantly churning gases,
imploding until the fuel runs out.
Supernova, black-hole.” – an inconsistent description. Two sequential processes – one is expansion, puffing, gassing, running out of steam but getting denser, and another is the subsequent gravitational collapse – seem to get confused into one. Not many people would stumble over this one, though.
“Under the lid, pressure shifts
and releases in a piercing scream.
But no one dares take it off the burner,
not to be reactionary or childish.” – switch of a metaphor – from a star to a pot – was somewhat disappointing.
“All these components must be
a greater plan by an invisible creator;” – not a plan, but perhaps, “parts of a plan”. Components cannot be a plan.
“far below-average.” – “far below average.”
“that thought it was important,
By a reasonable chance.” – not really clear by itself.
“Thousands of nanopeople,
prematurely crushed
but left to go on living
as though death or god were at the door.” – I had a thought here which may have nothing to do with your intention… but I’ll share it anyway: “as though death of God was at the door.” Just a thought.
“rotted to dust” – “rotted to dust.”
“Black-winged angels fly in the windows
to put them out of their misery.” – to put whom out of misery? The angels themselves, or the windows, or someone else? If angels – maybe, “to give up their misery”?
“Hanging from the bottom of an airplane,
on America’s Stupidest People
Maiming Themselves,
twice a day by popular demand.” – this fragment stands all by itself. Maybe, it should be moved elsewhere within the poem, and anchored either by a few more words/lines or by a related non-general meaning.
“stepped on; as an activist group is formed” – “stepped on, as an activist group is formed”
“The tips of fingers transmit a signal;” – a sudden switch from overview of the world to a very personal closeup. A break in narration. It would help if this transition was facilitated.
“It has become non-compliant,” – “It has become non-compliant.”
“caused by intravenously amphetamines” – “caused by intravenous amphetamines” or “caused by intravenously fed amphetamines”
“Dizziness makes life a bit more bearable.” – why? There is no explanation, example, or justification for it.
“for a manic-depressive teenage girl.” – “for a manic-depressive teenage girl:” or a semi-colon.
“and die a quick death.” – not likely. Not a quick one. Need another word here. Flickering? Unnoticed? Flashed?
“With any luck she’ll go loudly,” – “With any luck, she’ll go loudly,”
But overall – good writing.
Awesome poem. I enjoyed the flow and pace of your stanzas, and how you put it together. I like your use of descriptions in this piece as well. Thanks for posting it.
Although this was written extremely well, I have one simple problem with it. Although there are many styles of poetry, this piece seems too technical. The vocabulary and the word choice makes it feel robotic as if reading the description of an event on a canvas other than poetry. It had its poetic moments, but my suggestion would be to go back and try and work out the fact it reads so mechanicly.
Is the “single device” that you mention a television? I’m not sure if this is meant to be read literally, but that was the image I got from the references to light suddenly stretching forth and pixilation. I did find some of the language a bit challenging to sift through..In the first stanza for example I couldn’t follow which nouns went with which verbs: are the pipes that “scale walls” also what is being “haunted” and “hung”? By the second half it started to read a bit more clearly for me. I particularly liked the personification of of the towers that “puncture the sky, scar landscapes” and that coldly disregard the “idiot masses stumbling below” – definitely my favorite stanza. Maybe you could elaborate on the poem from the perspective of the buildings?
Overall, you have some creative imagery and ideas – but I think you could get the point across with more clarity.
This poem is incredible! it contains all the beautifull imagery of Edmund Burke and applies it to the ethereal concepts of Kerouac.
“Instead, a single device offers peace
in place of fruitless study and thought.
It waits patiently, with dead circuits,
powerless.”
The preceding verse, in particular, is a shining example of what I mean. My only criticism is that you have packed a vast universe of concepts into a relatively small poem. As a result, I feel like some verses are over stimulating while others are somewhat lacking of substance by comparison, specifically:
“All these components must be
a greater plan by an invisible creator;
or some sort of science experiment,
the grade received far below-average”
One of the worst things to hear after you spent many hours, especially for a piece like this, is the words “this needs more work.” I understand the feeling of pouring yourself into something just to hear you need to do it again but sadly i believe this needs alot of reconstruction. A great writter once told me that he never wrote anything long because the more stanzas the more words the more room there is for mistakes.
-Pro’s
A good concept,
you have intelligent images in here, e.g., the “The fire underneath star” stanza
you have good poetic imagry here, e.g., “As the water” sttanza, (one of my fav)
-Con’s
I hate saying this (im long winded) but this might be too long, main point (of TV, society, ect.) could be reached much sooner if you wanted too, and room for less mistakes, but this could be the easy way out.
*Your images are very spastic and almost hard to follow, you can tell you probably wrote this in bursts(different times) b/c your stanzas jump.
*Artistic Style* Very important to think about because your style is not consistent within the poem, If this is meant to be prose let it be prose. The begging line sounds like narrative prose, stlye, i.e., short bursts of images without muddleing. If that is what this is suppose to be let me give you a hint, take out the prepositions, e.g., and, the, it, he, she. Your writting got a little long winded in a few stanzas so if this wants to be sharp narrative, let it be. (Pipes scale walls
empty apartments,
haunted by spirits
hung by rafters
sheer joy.)
*Format, Format, Format. Your format is very dry, i say this in the most respect. I dont know whos rule this is but i always heard that if you make a pattern in your poem(format, or content) break it at least twice. Your stanzas are all four to five lines, and those lines all have 4 to 7 words. What about quick one word lines, so the format doesn’t begin to blur on the page? Its very symetrical.
*Content, this is one thing i think you might need to work on as well. This poem seems to have a very negative view on society, ect. Which in a way can be very cliche. The creature analogy, and herd are just over used and you might want to avoid them in the next write. A way to fix this is maybe a surprise ending, presenting a negative view, but finishing with a positive. Looking through my old “new yorkers” i found a very good poem that did this same thing. It’s call trouble by Matthew Dickman, and its a very good read if you have the time. (Its a good example of format excitement, as well)
Overall i believe this has potential, just needs to be hammered out. You have some convincing lines in here that say your a good writter, but even the best have to polish their work.
Good luck, And thanks for the read.
Josh
Ratings & Rankings| Version 5 |
| Version 4 | Version 3 (Deleted) | Version 2 (Deleted) | Version 1 (Deleted) |
Review item
Add to faves
