Snowflakes from Erebus

Hmm, how does this totally original title relate to this.

Hi, Galerius, me here,

When you first asked me to take a look at this, (which was recent enough that you should be able to recall it ) I remember saying something along the lines of "I find it ridiculous to pick at small elements of a poem when it works well together". I do, and because of that, I can't find much to pick at, but I'll just make mention of all of the parts that go against the grain in my head. Without further ado...

In some spots throughout the poem, I felt that there was a peculiar lack of connectivity between phrases and images that you used that stuttered the flow of it, such as

the ...down;

here, where I feel that the lack of activity in the words is more a disabling crutch than a supporting, and I feel that caught should have taken an active form (though it would stagger the flow by adding syllables), dear, but I'm not feeling the past tense "caught" with an active sagging later on.


And,

to ...winter.

here, could you use another word to replace winter? I like the usage, but where you last used winter gives it one sense of meaning, and to close this stanza with it makes it feel as if you're going back to that meaning, and I don't feel that this works. I think that because plump and bitter who are seldom used together are here paired, that another word in lieu of winter would work better.


And this,

the...dread?

this... this is solid imagery, vivid enough to burn an image into one's head and keep it there as you continue. Beautiful.

From ...bones

Singular sinner, or plural? I have a feeling it should be plural, dear, but with the apostrophe before the S, you're implying singular.

I ...sleep,

Très well done.

“I ... glove"

I appreciate the internal rhyme that's been upheld throughout; here, I feel that this is too obvious, too pressed, an effort straining against the natural flow of things here, and I don't feel that you should.

draining ...roosting

I love that image; however, my mind keeps reading it as "flock of roosting birds" as if, somehow, that improves the flow.

you...fog,

Beautiful, very beautiful. Is the hearing in the fog working here, or is it pressing more from what's enough?

the ...pebbles.

A beaut closing. I feel that it tied this together well, especially given that you paced this excellently; the build up and introduction was gradual, but exciting and beautiful in the rightest of ways. You managed to maintain interest, images, description and lively tone throughout the poem without boring or repeating words (or not too much, anyway; there was one point where I felt that you shouldn't re-use 'plump', but look that over, and see if it works?).

Furthermore, the way that you ended this was a smooth landing, and for that, I applaud you, many times over. You do continuously give good endings to your works, but oftentimes, I feel that I was a bit "dropped off" or that there was an incomplete detail that you might've neglected. Here, I felt that you completed this, and closed this with as much diligence (if not more), than you began with.

I enjoyed this, thoroughly. I believe that the story that you have enveloped here is tucked in nicely, which makes the poem worthy of many more reads without boredom ensuing. Long, yes, but worth every word of its length.

And no, I'm not just praising this for the sake of it. I really enjoyed it.

Continue,
June

Hi Gal!

Well, this is again one of those works that make me do a double-take when reading, but I guess it serves me right for naming myself something that frequents myths that inspire people to write. Unfortunately I'm not very familiar with myths over all, so I'm not really sure whose point of view this is written from, though I still found myself liking it.

This isn't the first time you've based a work on this myth, and there are many other people to have done it, too, so maybe that's why I wasn't as enthusiastic about the theme as I could have been. It's a great and inspirational story, though, so I don't exactly blame you for going for that. Besides, you delivered, as usual, and I like the style of this poem. It's somehow lighter than what you sometimes write, which doesn't hurt at all.

God ...spite

Meh. I don't really like this. It's the "[proper noun], hear this and this" structure that I dislike in every work that I read. Well, apart from prayers, that is. I've always thought it to be somehow artificial.

I like it how you sprinkle around those mythological names and places. I guess it's what you would expect from a poem like this, but it does make it more down-to-earth and easier to follow.

like ...chest

I like this. The whole nightmare thing.

I ...worshipers

I really like this, especially because of the gallow-hallow-hollow thing. Though, I would probably spell "worshipper" with two Ps. Both work, I think.

Yes. I do like this. I'm glad you posted it in the end. This is not much of a review, but what else would you expect on the Review Day? By the way, don't jump to conclusions too easily...

See you around!

Demeter
x

Hello Galerius, very nice to meet you. I'm Evi and I run to this poem full-speed while brandishing a pitchfork.

I ...noose.

This bothered me more the more I thought about it. I can't tell if this is supposed to mean I love you like the hangman's noose loves you, comparing the narrator to the noose, or if it's supposed to mean I love you like I love the hangman's noose, comparing the noose to the person being addressed. They're quite different translations, because they characterize the narrator in very different ways, and I do think it matters.

The...ground

I didn't like the word choice of the bold portion. Partially because the idea of something "ringing through the night" has been used, but mainly because the sentence doesn't make sense. If you strip it down to subject and predicate without the prepositional phrases to cloud your meaning, it translates to: The innocence rings like shoes . Which is pretty incoherent. Even if I were to suspend my disbelief and accept that innocence can ring, I can't pretend that innocence can ring like shoes. Shoes don't ring.

Later, I don't like the image of the servants having "dripping hands". Drooping, maybe. Rain dripping through their outstretched fingers, sure. But dripping hands reminds me of the Wicked Witch of the West screaming "I'm melting!" which is probably not what you're going for!

She’s ...branchbones

Why the past tense all of a sudden? You don't seem to be talking about a single event, but more this mother witch as a whole, so I'd imagine this should be "knows" and "can". You say "I've seen" and "she holds", all present.

I split ...parts.

One pomegranate seed, four parts? Wasn't it one pomegranate, four of its seeds? Cutting a pomegranate seed into quarters would result in awfully tiny pieces, for the practicality of the myth.

the ...as I

Nifty line breaks here. Could easily have become gimmicky, but I think it worked.

However, I felt there were too many images floating around the next stanza. Fortunately this was the first time in the poem I'd had a problem with an overflow of imagery, but you jump from craters to sand, ocean tides, and the skies (although I do get the connection of the last two). Too many settings, I think. It makes the scene dissolve when the backdrop keeps changing.

like ...forth(.)

Gal. I love your alternate-meaning parentheses trick, but this is a ridiculous spot to waste it on, and you know it.

draining ...roosting

When I first read this, I saw "roosting" as "roasting". And I kind of like it better. Something about the word "roosting" here just doesn't fit, and yet I have no rational explanation.

for...months(.)

This one isn't quite so bad, because it raises the question of whether you're saying, "chewing a pomegranate for six months" or "for six months I'd watch men and women swim in the styx". But still. Be wary. I still suggest you take out the first one.

Hmm. The ending I'm not sure about. I like the first line and the first half of the second line, but "filled
to the brim with smoke from under the pebbles" is just more description in a poem that already has a lot of description. You could cut off after before "filled" and stick with that theme of the anguished mother and the wind, both recurring themes. It's just that smoke and pebbles aren't really used before, and so your poem doesn't quite come full circle. You could make it tie back together a bit more by ending on the same note--

the lonely one whispering
through the wind,
I love you.

I like that simply because I love it when poems begin and end on similar tones, but it's up to you.

Finally, Use the word "upon" less. Besides that, I enjoyed this very much, although perhaps not as much as Let there Be Blight. The new title here is better, but I still don't feel like it fits with the poem. The word "echo" isn't used once.

You like the myth of Persephone, Demeter, and Hades, don't you?

~Evi

Jesus, Gal. There are heaps of gold within all this. And while I analyze and critique and pray, just imagine that we're shining the gold together. This isn't Lumi doing an unbiased critique. This is 'us' making a great thing better. So, let's begin. No personal pronouns, right? We'll have fun:

Hook, line, and sinker, right? We begin the poem off by demanding that the reader pays attention because we're shoving it in their face that this is not a run-of-the-mill poem about teenage angst or puppy love.


"Reader, have you ever felt love like this? If you've never imagined your emotions playing out in your heart and mind as such, you probably now will." We splash originality and masterful composition on the entry point and give brilliant imagery. However, we start a trend in this stanza that some are not fond of. "...like a heartbeat(ing) in wine..." Some will find this annoying and used as a cop-out to giving an obvious double meaning to what we're saying. So if used carefully and discretely, it could work. But overuse may be suicide. Let's keep that in mind.


In this stanza, the poem takes a sly veer to the left and becomes more of a narrative ballad than a love poem. Some would call it off-topic, we'll call it rounding the content. After all, not every love is purely love. There are times of the man flaunting his power, there are times of the woman realizing her lust for his breath, and there are times to show exactly who the two lovelorn individuals are. This stanza is a revelation of character, if we're not mistaken. That said, a more silky segue would be wonderful. Right now, the transition is a staircase--let's aim for an elevator. Other than the transition, the references we made are obscure in places, but that's perhaps a good thing. Obscurity is better than obviousness, after all.


And now the elevator has taken us to the next floor where the bulk of the story is carried out. Our beautiful captive is revealed in a wonderfully subtle way and the plot of this twisted narration is swung into full-speed ahead. Again, beautiful imagery and masterful structure. Breaks in the right places. We know what we're doing.



Clever, clever, clever.



And here is a transition that we wanted earlier--the elevator, not staircase. We're swung back into the lust of the story, cradling that sweet captive lover in our arms as she longs for unfulfilled escape. However, we used the word 'drizzled' again and it may be getting old. Let's try changing it out for something different. After all, freshness is key!



Beautiful and witty. Characterization in a poem? How do we do it!?


If we use the name Ixion in this stanza once more, we will be beheaded! Here we hit the downfall of the plot and the forlorn lover dies. We're fond of the violent imagery in this stanza, particularly "Like Rome burning in my stomach..."

Some will find the references and imagery used in this stanza to be blatantly sexual. If it's what we aimed for, it's what we achieved. There's no need in changing it as long as we're aware and are settled with the thought of judgment from some readers. But we do the parenthetical double-meaning once again in this stanza and it makes us wonder if we really should. Perhaps mature readers could do without it. But it's ultimately our choice. Just more spit-shine on the gold.


Once again with the parenthesis! We appear to have little faith in the reader's ability to see within the confines of our grammar. Some readers will wonder how one goes about 'fighting an apple'. We must be careful of the use of the word 'would'. It changes the mood and makes the stanza feel awkward.


Beautiful ending. If anything, do not change this stanza.


So there you have it. It's a beautiful poem and you use such vibrant and refreshing imagery and sensationalism that it doesn't even seem like a re-write of a myth. Woops, was I supposed to say that? Either way, it's beautiful and, other than the suggestions above, it's golden. I will admit that the parenthesis annoyed me to no end, but that's just a personal deal. If it works for you, then so be it.

I'm typically not a fan of mythology, but you put such a refreshing squeeze onto this story that it's damn near irresistible. Keep it up and PM me if/when you change anything! I want to see the polished gold.

-Lumiface

Since you've already been heavily reviewed I'm just going to applaud your well polished poem by saying it's original, heavenly descriptive, and draws very well from Greco-Roman mythology/history. The story was very deep and well told. The way you ended it was great too.

Once again, an epic and beautiful poem!

Honestly not exactly my cup of tea. There are many fantastic and fantastical images that stay in the mind, but there are so many roundabout detours to get there that it rubs me wrong and they segment it into different parts.

I have a personal vendetta against the use of the word "like." It's too whimsical and easy to get carried away looking at every leaf to confirm their similarity before revealing the tree. In single servings, I can appreciate the use of it to expand an idea to encompass similar ideas. But to say that you love one like a noose (also confusing to me whether you mean you love like a noose would love or you love one like you love the noose) and the innocence beats like shoes on the ground which is like bones which has harbingers clinking bells like heartbeats is overkill for me.

But then we get to stanza two and beyond where we have some very nice movement and stirrings of the beast. I don't need to point out the gems in stanzas 2 and 3 as most others have. But I will say, "Six months the coins will be cold" is a glorious comment. It's so inconsequential, but telling of the sentiments and situation.

The mention of the word "hell" in a story taking place before the word was coined is a little offsetting. Ignore that comment if I'm off base, as my theological knowledge is limited.

Like Rome...life and death

Wonderful set of lines with great flow.

The whole Ixion thing got a little old. Also, in those four lines, you use "like Ixion" three times which sets up a rhythm. But between the second and third time, there's a "like" that appears independently (also at the end of a line!). So we go into the next line expecting an "Ixion" and get "lukewarm" instead. Slightly jarring and disappointing, especially "lukewarm" of all things.

damned hounds fighting wolf
fetuses like apples

That lost me completely, and so close to the end, too.

However, the

you pick flowers above...fog

brought me back in and the last stanza finished it quite nicely. Though I did feel we got rushed into the finale a little bit starting at "I caress Cerberus..." I'm not sure if I saw the logical jump from the scene before it.

So that's about all I have to say. All in all, I can say I enjoyed it. The vivid destitution and longing sit in my mind, but I just wish it didn't take some of the pit stops it did along the way.

Gal --

You're quite becoming the master of the epic poem, aren't you? It's interesting, because I rarely see epic poetry in the normal venues of poetry I'm exposed to. There is one poet who comes to mind who I think you'd enjoy (but you've previously shrugged off my Cormac McCarthy suggestions (at least to my knowledge), so maybe you won't even bother to look him up). His name is Derek Walcott. He wrote an epic poem called "Another Life" (actually more like a book length poem with chapters) that I think you'd really enjoy. I notice similarities between you and him. In fact, "Another Life" has a strong basis in the Odyssey, which is right up your alley.

I enjoyed Let There Be Blight better. Surely, this is a great piece, but it seems as though I've seen it before. It reads like a hodge-podge of every other poem you've done before. I think the reason that Let There Be Blight was such a hit was because the topic was so original, and we as readers could tell that it was grounded in reality, in your life. Not in some myth, or a South American ancient civilization. In fact, it kept the mythical allusions to a minimum. This was refreshing. And what's more, you said something. You said something easily discernible about the human condition. You asked epic questions, to match your epic length. You offered a different perspective on life. You were deliciously subversive that way. A writer's first goal should be to subvert. Subvert the mind, the consciousness, the subconsciousness, a way of thinking.

This poem is fine. There's nothing wrong with it. In fact, as has been pointed out, there are some great parts. And for once, I found myself enjoying your little cummings-esque punctuation word plays. I guess it all boils down to the opinion that you should now move on. Seek to experiment as a poet. If this poem was a machine, it would be tortuous. It would have arms, appendages, ten different engines, parts and gears and wheels, pistons, made of many different working and moving parts. It is a massive machine. And what's more, and to your credit, all the parts serve a purpose. There is no unused bolt, washer. However, the pieces of the poem, the parts, do not function together very well. On their own, each part works beautifully. Together, it's a bit of a monster. It just looks clumsy. It is not unpleasant to hear, but it is extremely loud. Each sentence screams louder than the last. Each stanza screams louder than the others. This poem is competing with itself.

As it stands now, this poem is good. There are few clumsy parts, but it doesn't kill the piece. I just want to see you try something different, Gal. Instead of having a poem with ten disparate engines, I want to see a poem with a single engine. Something shorter, with fewer allusions. You can do sprawling very well.

-Kylan

Hello luvduv, (this is only because of the video of our one-night stand that I hope you won't send to my father)

so let's see, what do we have here?

I don't want to see an enjambment between 'I love you' and 'No, that's overused.' It gives a slow, stammering start to the piece and I even questioned it to be part of the poem at first. If you'd like to keep it, I'd suggest it be 'I love you. No,' then 'that's overused'. Because in that case, the second line adds more as an illustrated train of thought which struggles against the cliche of 'I love you.'

That aside, 'the innocence of spring' and 'bloody cheeks'. Look, luv, similes are good, but you are making yourself a pimp out of that whore, and not a good-looking pimp. If you'd actually cut out the self-indulgence and take a look, first line: 'I love you like the hangman's noose,' second line: 'through the night like,' fourth line: 'shaking like,' sixth line: 'clinking like.'

I think that's enough proof for you to cringe at yourself.

Take the similes down a notch or at least weave them into metaphorical situations, not just little snippets of imagery here and there. There has to be a context, context, context: context is key.

Now, let's go dig the great parts of your first stanza, some extremely clever usage of internal rhymes, alliteration, et cetera, (can't name my poetic terms tight): gallows, hallow, afterwards, you bring the hallow to the hollow. Lovely things. But for this genius to be recognised, you need to stop biting off more you can chew, to put it simply. Don't start it off by 'The innocence of spring/upon your bloody cheeks beats through the night like/extra shoes dumped'. Defeats and belittles the whole thing. Find a suitable start and then go on worrying about keeping your cleverness.

Also, watch out for your meter, gets foggy at certain points.

Will do the rest when I'm not eating breakfast.

See all the sacrifices I make for you? (That calls for a second-night-stand).

I love you like the hangman’s noose. The innocence of spring
upon your bloody cheeks beats through the night like
extra shoes dumped near the gallows, hallow ground
shaking like hollow bones ground with the
harbingers seeking worshipers, tambourines and bell
strings clinking like a heartbeat(ing) in wine glasses
held by my side.

A poem like this begs more than a quick read through and I'd happily read it a second time, it was very well put together. There were parts I could find fault with of course but much of that's down to personal opinion and my own interpretation of certain myths and epic poetry in general. Instead, I'll give you my impressions for each section and let you make whatever use of that you will, even if it's only to take encouragement.

I love you.

No, that’s overused.

An excellent way to start. I'll admit I was disappointed that you didn't follow this through. I began to imagine a man pacing his room, paper and quill in hand or perhaps hands clasped behind his back as he tried to find the words to say. I'd have loved to see him interupt himself in places to try and start again, steering off topic and then returning to the very beginning but perhaps that would be better placed in a different poem. The direction this takes might not suit that style, alas.

I love you like the hangman’s noose. The innocence of spring...
held by my side.

A muddle of images here which is part of what makes this poem one for a long read or a multiple one. I like them once I've had the chance to sift through and let each settle in my mind but the later lines are hard to follow on a first read. The hallow ground, hollow bones ground is clever but disruptive while heartbeat(ing) is both witty and in-keeping with the flow. Oh and that first line is one of my favourites, so much thinking and such an image behind it. Very nicely done. Of course I wouldn't have loved it as much without your gallows follow up so good thinking there.

I tried to spy over these...
breathe.

You bank so sharply here. I'm not sure how I like that. A part of me wishes for a smoother transition while another says no, that wouldn't keep the reader as alert and watchful. I think you've probably got the right of it and I love how softly, smoothly you fade out at the end. Very nicely done.

You think I’d not feel wind whipping across...
in hell growing like

I love the sibilance toward the end there. Love, love it. While reading of the first quarter and the mother's passion I was thinking please, please cut or shorten this but the second quarter, following Persephone? That was a delight to read and the perfect length and it flowed so beautifully. I'd suggest you've got to make that first part better and where is the other half? I know, I know where it is but just a little hint, just a mention. Leaving it unsaid leaves something to be desired.

the eye of the
storm as I

Good. Nicely done.

hold you with the...
keep itself warm.

Lovely, smooth to read, all very well taken onboard and enjoyed.

“Are you crying?”

“No, I’m raining.”

Witty, characterisation, what's not to like?

God of lightning meets his wife, teeth biting down...
Ixion grating with my mouth, his eyes closed in spinning sleep:

Personally I love the repetition at the end there, not sure about those rhyming couplets you have higher up but great imagery and a good sense of flow.

“I used you no please no that was over love I used...
chewing a pomegranate

The first line is awkward, the rest are wonderful. I love the use of nightmares though the brackets aren't really necessary. A clever reader will find it straight away and a not so clever one may take longer but it's there and it's clear.

for six damned months(.) I would watch...
onto their petals as you hear in fog

I think a line drop would work better than that hovering period and the repetition of damned doesn't do your vocabulary justice. It's a good word and very fitting but do you really need to use it twice?

the lonely one whispering
through the wind, filled
to the brim with smoke from under the pebbles.

Very nice, well rounded off and well done.


There you go then, just a few impressions for you ^^ Keep up the excellent writing! And if you need anything at all, you know where to find me,

Heather xx

Hi Galerius -

I think I have read this poem too many times. I dreamed of it recently. That is the downfall of a photographic memory and an insatiable curiosity.

There is little to say that has not already been said. I enjoyed the multilayering in this poem, motifs, the sideways branching. I think I appreciated it more once I realised exactly what the poem was about - then, rather than seeming like a rambling and beautiful series of thoughts, it all slotted in perfectly, sharply. And, in some ways, I like that you are not overly obvious about the storyline, the characters. It gives one reason to reread it. But once that's established, what else is there left to draw one back to the poem? What stands out to me as being the only thing memorable?

It's a retelling of a myth. Fine. It's an exploration of the mythical characters, their thoughts, feelings, desires, regrets. Indeed, the style makes it different from other retellings, but past that, once style and wordplay and imagery are stripped away to the bare bones of it - the content - there is relatively little left for one to chew over. To think about. To feel. The only place where thinking needs to occur is in the decoding process. Once one gets past that, it's perhaps too easily simplified down, despite your constant effort to divert the readers' attention along the way. So, at first it appears as if it has no focus, and then, once the focus is found, it's too quickly slapped into position, concreted down. You leave no legroom for the reader to think about the poem further - beyond the myth, so to speak. Sure, it's dramatic, it's big, grandiose, but in terms of what intellectual ideas it offers the reader outside of the storyline, I see very little here. There are no infuriating or fascinating questions to consider after the curtain closes. Style-wise, there's a lot of 'head' involved in terms of the intellect that must have gone into crafting it on your part. Content-wise, there's not much offered intellectually. Of course, not all poems need to ask earth-shattering questions, but one would expect that with the length and purposeful drama of this, at least something would arise for us to mull over.

I've talked about 'head'. Now I want to ask you about 'heart' - the emotion in this. As it is, the tone is almost bordering on the sarcastic, the ironic, the bitter. In part, I would say some of the wordplay might be to blame for this - it prevents any kind of real depth being shown; instead it tosses about a motley of words that for me made the experience of reading it cheaply entertaining - not at all doing justice to the writing, the characters. I don't have a major issue with wordplay; I just think that in this case it is being used to dress up something of a mannequin. It takes away from that clarity of tone you could otherwise have. Yes, it's fun, but it added little to the portrayal of emotion. And, usually, the tone of the poem can be a good indicator of major themes - this is the case here: the tone is hateful, sarcastic. The themes are likewise nonexistent beyond the actual story. Hate and sarcasm and the occasional dash of bitter regret (that likwise comes across as shallow) may have been exactly what you'd intended; all I want to ask it what greater purpose they served.

Dramatic poetry as a genre is something I've been considering lately. Since it's drama, high-drama in your case, it's difficult to imagine any kind of emotion being felt while watching it played out since it seems too high a stage upon which the poem is set. The only thing to draw us in with the main character or event is the words here, and I felt little emotional connection with any of them. I saw it, and I saw it felt - I just did not feel it. Even though you use first person to narrate, the character is not someone one can easily identify with. That may be because they are a mythical narrator. Because that individuality is rather quickly lost when we are talking about the god of the underworld. Because there is perhaps little to say. Then why say it? The feelings here were as overdone as the actions - screaming, chewing sinners' bones, hangmen - altogether a sensation of madness.

Actually, that's rather interesting, since the change of seasons is something quite ordered, precise, while the poem is chaotic, dramatically so - you might have considered making that distinction a recurrent theme. Perhaps you could have juxtaposed life as it is now continuing on with the seasons marching forward in strict rhythm, totally oblivious to the mayhem required to sustain it, and Hades' internal conflict. That would have made for something intriguing to consider: what if the seeming (external) order in the world is a result of (internal conflict/) disorder elsewhere? Something like that might have thrown the events in the poem in a different light.

You're an accomplished writer. Personally, I find the epic poems a great read - if they get the head/heart balance strong, if they make me think and feel, beyond the external sensations that the imagery provides. I wanted to tell you I enjoyed 'Let There Be Blight' for that reason; I did like this, but less so for I saw what it could have been.

Regardless, thanks for the read.


Navita