Prophecy Bottle

by pletta

Published February 5, 2013


So now
please,
tell me about God,
and love,
and Satanic Buddhists,
Or Hindus and the hellbound vegetarians,

About Hell and handbag jockies,

You knew it were them,
Those blue bastards that could never, really take our freedom,

You told me,

We've died in trenches, and jungles
malls,and movie theaters,
schools and school buses
so little Jimmy could grow up and get a hundred off before
tyranny could make him stop,


You made sure I knew
that a child delivered
seven hundred and fifty-two point one miles south of a manger
was seven hundred and fifty-two point one too many miles south of deliverance.

So I asked you,

What kind of asshole would send salvation in a vision one day
then say,
"Sorry, false alarm. You're just manic depressive," the next?






Comments & reviews · 3
User avatar
Morrigan
Review
Morrigan wrote a review Review · Feb 5, 2013

Hi there, pletta.

Are you from the United States? That's the vibe I get from this poem. It's very familiar to me. Especially the part in italics.

It tipped then spilled the veins,
through red faces and glossy eyes,
And the color on your face means words in your mouth,

The second and third lines aren't doing it for me. Is it implying that this prophecy was spoken out of anger? If so, simplify it so I don't have to guess about it.

So now
please,
tell me about God,
and love,
and Satanic Buddhists,
Or Hindus and the hellbound vegetarians,

I love this stanza. Except the last line, which could use some reworking. Perhaps you could say "hellbound Hindus" to make an alliteration (which I love dearly). I'm not so hot on the vegetarians part, though. Perhaps say "agnostics"? "Or hellbound Hindus and agnostics" at least is more relevant than the vegetarians. I don't know. Do what you want with that line.

I know my eyes
are behind It too,
You made sure I knew
that a child delivered
seven hundred and fifty-two point one miles South of a manger
was seven hundred and fifty-two point one too many miles South of deliverance
as you poured your eyes out across your face and down your throat.

I don't really understand the eye imagery you've got going on here. It's sudden and confusing. I love the rest of the stanza. I like the idea of the miles south of a manger. Also, do you mean something by capitalizing South? Are you talking about "the South" or just accidentally capitalizing the direction? I'd like to know. It would be very interesting if you're talking about the southern US because the rest of your poem feels very indicative of that region.

And what kind of asshole would send salvation in a vision one day
then say,
"Sorry, false alarm. You're just manic depressive," the next?

I'm not sure what you're trying to do here. Also, "manic depressive" is an antiquated term. The modern term is "bipolar" though you might have used the old term on purpose. As I said, the meaning of this stanza is very foggy to me. And when you refer to the "asshole," to whom are you referring?

Altogether, I really liked this. It's got a very unique feeling. Nice job. I hope this review was helpful and useful. Happy poeting!

User avatar
Demeter
Review
Demeter wrote a review Review · Feb 5, 2013

Hi Pletta!

I liked this and also agree with Pengu that a little more punchiness would make it even shinier, and I think you can achieve that just by compressing things a little.


So now
please,
tell me about God,
and love,
and Satanic Buddhists,
Or Hindus and the hellbound vegetarians,


I don't think the "please" does anything for me. It seems a bit extra and unnecessary there. It feels like it just sort of drags the stanza down a little where there's no need.


You made sure I knew
that a child delivered
seven hundred and fifty-two point one miles South of a manger
was seven hundred and fifty-two point one too many miles South of deliverance


I liked the idea of this part very much, but it's just too many words. It's difficult to make it any fewer words, but it felt like a jungle that I had to tread through to get to the other side. I don't know. I can't really suggest anything, but that's also because I'm only a reader. ;)

I really like the final three lines. They're a strong way to end this.

Well, that wasn't really a lot for me to say, but overall, I think you did a good job! Write more soon.


Demeter
x

User avatar
PenguinAttack
Review
PenguinAttack wrote a review Review · Feb 5, 2013

Hi pletta,

So I think I like this. I like most of this, you have some really solid, punchy lines that are just perfect for what you're trying to say. I think in parts you lose some of your focus and it flies away.

It tipped then spilled the veins,
through red faces and glossy eyes, < These are boring lines, basically. What are you telling me? The prophesy slipped out. I think it's the red faces and glossy eyes that I'm not keen on. Lose the second line and continue on to the next, maybe?

So now
please,
tell me about God,
and love, < Yes to these first four lines, they're well situated, have good pacing and just the right kind of bitter justification. You can hear the sneer in this voice.
and Satanic Buddhists,
Or Hindus and the hellbound vegetarians, < You lose that sneer and the voice just becomes a bit petty, a bit loose around the edges. Hard images, hard lines. that's what you want in this stanza. I'd pick one more image, a good opposing one, to sit against the love line. Not hate, but yes like Buddhists or satan or something.

You knew it were them, < While I totes talk like this, the "were' is out of place unless you're indicating a kind of vernacular.
Those dainty bastards will never take our freedom,

We've died in trenches, and jungles
malls,and movies theaters,
schools and school busses
so little Jimmy could grow up and get a hundred off before
tyranny could make him stop, < I like all this although I don't understand the hundred off line. Also *buses. But mostly I think this section is where you lose it for a bit, there's too much difference in what you're saying and I'd prefer to see you make this into it's own little section or poem, expand this and take it somewhere else. I don't understand the "dainty bastards" either, I have no idea who they might be. Not just in the poem, in reference as well.

I know my eyes
are behind It too,
You made sure I knew < I don't think you need this? But you can keep it without much fuss.
that a child delivered
seven hundred and fifty-two point one miles South of a manger
was seven hundred and fifty-two point one too many miles South of deliverance
as you poured your eyes out across your face and down your throat. < Lose this line, it's melodramatic and follows good, strong lines, so it just drags the stanza down. I'm not getting the eyes imagery, to be honest, it's just weird and not working for me right now.

But now I like to think that most things are for all of us,
that outliers aren't solutions,
and radicals can be radical somewhere else.

And what kind of asshole would send salvation in a vision one day
then say,
"Sorry, false alarm. You're just manic depressive," the next?

These final six lines also lose it for me. I really enjoy the meaning at the end, I think that's what your poem has wanted to say, but I don't think it's the poem you've written with what you have here. I'd lose the middle three lines and just use these following the manger lines. They're strong and push your intent out to the reader. I appreciate how they feel together and that you maintain that bitter anger which pushes this poem into a good territory.

This is a solid poem but it does need to be cleaned up a little bit and tightened for focus, I think if you work on it, this could be a really good poem with an excellent sense of imagery and narration. The tone is what makes this poem work, wherever you lose your strong narrator is a place where the poem loses focus and skill.

Thanks for posting this, I look forward to more from you. Please hit me up if you have any questions, queries or just want to chat.

~ Pen

pletta replied · Feb 8, 2013

The "were" is definitely vernacular. Thanks for the review!



If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.
— Henry David Thoreau, "Walden"