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Poetry / Slipstream
I: was drowning in Echo’s pond
and fell in love with man,
my high cheek bones burn
with the flush solitude of sex.
What could be more lovely or reversed
than the rippled mirror of my face,
pursed lips encroaching with desire
equidistant. Here the even dance
is Dionysian, pain and pleasure come
with the folded sharpness of a staple,
a church bell. To you, my chest dangles
limply in a cocoon of cotton candy
hair, to me, it is a harp strung taut
and humming on the fingers of my own
best hand.
-
Third limited: He was trapped by Psyche,
cheerleaders pass by his side
sliding that sidelong glance,
arrows notched on the golden bow.
His hands sweat. His stomach warps
into a maw hungry for what never happened.
Their skirts swish, waves of time
eager to let the hours of his hands slip through,
he thinks, or the rustling of static
built into the fibrous charge
of cotton and skin. His books tumble
like padlocks over the tile.
He gathers them, no one turns to laugh
or point, and passes on, each classroom
chamber after chamber of his own palace,
the shrill giggle of female youth
sparkles in his milk hot eye.
-
Second omniscient:
You know it all, don’t you?
Too much for a man to know without being shot
or strewn to pieces by eight-legged horses.
It won’t last long, but you could tell
that old rope slung over
dry rot beams wouldn’t even hold an ankle.
Try to find your future in a garage
with the car running, a pill bottle
with labyrinth logos, or like a true poet
burn your stomach open with a good rum
like a french flambe, purify our sorrows.
Immortal suicide is thirsty work
so understand this wisdom well,
magic is women’s work,
the future twines like double helix worms
in your left eye, and since you have nine
days on Hlidskjalf to dig under our war torn souls,
wing Thought and Memory over the mortal plane,
tell me how the world turns out
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godd start…........this was good though a bit hard to follow, liked
‘solitude of sex’ in first stanza.
‘Fibrous charge of cotton & skin’.
future twines like double helix-worms…
Both of these above lines work well…
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This poem is very meandering and lacks focus. Instead of making one poem in three different voices, why not make three poems. There isn’t anything that ties these three parts together anyway. Also drop the stage calls for what voice your in, it serves no purpose. Why is your first stanza formatted differently then the other two? This will also require correction.
Many phrases are difficult to understand like, “His books tumble like padlocks over the tile.” Why padlocks? How many people can reference the sound of multiple padlocks falling on tile? Is this some metaphor that I just don’t get? How could he make so much noise (I assume padlocks on tile is rather loud) and no one looks? It’s not possible.
By using all the mythological references and the surreal, you set your reader up to think that this poem has deeper hidden meanings, but I just can’t find any, sorry I tried. Once again I should reiterate that this would work better as three poems. I just found myself too many times thinking “Why was this word used?”, or “For what purpose was this used?”. It might help to work on transitions between stanzas, and using some central reoccurring imagery to bring it all together.
This is a really nice poem. Your references are all valid, your language elegant and easy to read.
Comments:
burn
with the flush solitude of sex. <- not sure about the subject verb object here
lips encroaching with desire <- how do lips encroach with desire? they may purse with desire, but not encroach.
pass by his side
sliding that sidelong glance, <- great alliteration here.
Their skirts…
of cotton and skin. <- this sentence is too long and difficult to follow easily.
My favorite:
Too much for a man to know without being shot
or strewn to pieces by eight-legged horses.
Keep writing!
I like this poem. It’s well thought out and cleverly written. With that said, I do feel that there are times when you use too many words. Words such as “the.”
The only other thing I have for you is that the language isn’t as consistent as it could be. For example, in the 1st stanza, you start off really jagged and broken. That worked well. But in the same stanza, you fall into a standard word flow, which is a very different voice from how you started the stanza. I feel you should keep the whole voice of I: in the same structure.
Again, overall, I really like this poem. Great language and excellent imagery.
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