Masquerade

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Not completely done with this piece, but wanted some feedback to see if I'm on the right track.
~ Eden
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O masked face of mystery;
fire and ice inside.
Who could know the history
of the face you hide?

Who could know from whence you came?
Who could know what was your name?
Who would face those fiery eyes
and learn the secrets deep inside?

Masquerade of pageantry,
angel and demon alike;
Can you feel the felicity
of this wondrous sight?

Who could see the ghost and ghoul
and not see beasts from chaos' rule?
Who believes the pretty lies
that shine behind an angel's eyes?

O masqued face you dazzle me
reality and fantasy blend.
O but twere you real to me
instead of just pretend...
The Future Belongs To Those Who Believe In The Beauty Of Their Dreams. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

My God, oh how you've changed me; broken, shaped, and rearanged me. How you've knocked me down so you could pick me up.




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ChildofEden wrote:Not completely done with this piece, but wanted some feedback to see if I'm on the right track.
~ Eden
-----------------------------------------


O masked face of mystery;
fire and ice inside.
Who could know the history
of the face you hide?

I like this beginning - it attracts the reader with the secrecy and power you describe.

Who could know from whence you came?
Who could know what was your name?
Who would face those fiery eyes
and learn the secrets deep inside?

In the stanza above, I'd reconsider altering the beginning of the first line. Or doing something with the third. Beacuse although the repetition in the first two lines is all right, the thirsd is somewhat close to that, and it looks a bit strange. Whereas the fourth, beginning on a totally different note, looks even more out of place.

Masquerade of pageantry,
angel and demon alike;
Can you feel the felicity
of this wondrous sight?

This strophe flows brillaintly.

Who could see the ghost and ghoul
and not see beasts from chaos' rule?
Who believes the pretty lies
that shine behind an angel's eyes?

This stanza is rather unclear, I think. I'm not really sure what you are trying to portray - try to clarify that, maybe?

O masqued face you dazzle me
reality and fantasy blend.
O but twere you real to me
instead of just pretend...

The first adn third line of this strophe are full of energy adn power, whereas the second and fourth lines sort of lose the impact. You need to make them stronger, so that the entire strophe serves as an adequate ending to the poem.


Overall, brillaint! I really, really liked it. :)

Some suggestions above, hope they come in useful, but in general it really was great, definitely one of the best poems I've read in a long time.
~Memory is a child walking along a seashore. You can never tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things~

Away until August 31st (possibly longer)




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This poem reminded me very much of Phantom of the Opera, which is both a good and a bad thing. It's a good thing because everything makes more sense to me (since I've seen the play and can know what you're talking about), but it's also not such a good thing because it seems like you've taken a lot of things for granted. For example,

O masked face of mystery;
fire and ice inside


What does it mean that there's "fire and ice inside"? Why is that significant? Why should I think that this double personality is any more conflicted than any of the other people wearing masks at a masquerade ball?

Because of this, these are my favourite lines:

O masqued face you dazzle me

reality and fantasy blend.


It's something outside of the specific person this poem is aimed at and directed more generally to the concept of a masquerade. I'd like to see this as more the concentration than the person that most of the poem talks about.

Happy writing!




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This is pretty good.

I mean, it doesn't exactly blow me away as the language is very good, but it fails to create an atmosphere, if you get my drift. And the reason is some lines seem to be simply pulled out of nowhere and stuck in because they look like they go along with the theme.

For example, like Leja said:

fire and ice inside.


Right- I would use this, but twist it a little to make it more original and thought-provoking. If you put your stamp on it as it were, people will think about it more because it is at a new angle.

Also some words bothered me a little because they seemed pointlessly poetic:

Who could know from whence you came?


If I were you, I'd stick to more common language and use a few choice words instead of drenching the poem completely. That is, if you want to make it universal and get through to people.

Other than that, I'd say this shows great promise. Your poetic voice is consistent and you use a few subtle touches of class and solid imagery to back up your ambitious subject. Masques are awesome by the way. Oh so very Shakespearean. Top marks.

Love,

Eimear
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

Oscar Wilde.




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Loved it! It was mysterious and had a steady rhythm. I felt like I was rocking back and forth by reading your poem. I thought it had a romantic element to it too.
O masked face of mystery;
fire and ice inside.
Who could know the history
of the face you hide?

A nice opening, it draws attention to the poem. I like the fire and ice part.
Who could know from whence you came?
Who could know what was your name?
Who would face those fiery eyes
and learn the secrets deep inside?

This part has sort of a Shakespearean feel to it. Like ow the sentence was built and the words you choose. This helps the whole "masque" thing
O masqued face you dazzle me
reality and fantasy blend.
O but twere you real to me
instead of just pretend...

Nice ending. I like how you write mask, masque. It adds a sophisticated touch to it.
Overall, very nice. Its a borderline work of genius! I love this poem!
Character is what you have left when you've lost everything you can lose. - Evan Esar
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Thank you to you all, your critiques are much appreciated!

~ Eden
The Future Belongs To Those Who Believe In The Beauty Of Their Dreams. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

My God, oh how you've changed me; broken, shaped, and rearanged me. How you've knocked me down so you could pick me up.



The day, which was one of the first of spring, cheered even me by the loveliness of its sunshine and the balminess of the air. I felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of these sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them, and forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy.
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein