Flight 372

by Snoink

Published March 10, 2008

In Poetry

How uncomfortable it is after the launch
when we glance down at the houses and
stores and stadiums and realize that we
are simply microcosms under a cloudy-foam ocean.

It is better when the strato cumulus clouds carpet
our flight and we can be
angels, wincing in the sunlight
and shielding our eyes, pretending that
God does exist and Icarus
rides with us, as ice crystals line
our windows and our ears burst
with an invisible roar of sound.

But cirrus wisps above us and the mountains
loom around us until, with a dizzying sigh,
the seatbelt light flashes on and we begin our
descent.

Icarus was but a myth--
We are the fallen angels.

Comments & reviews · 2
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PenguinAttack
Review
PenguinAttack wrote a review Review · Mar 10, 2008

Okay, we've talked about this, but I'm here to give you some hardcopy feedback. ^^

I like the idea and I find the allusion to Icarus,and the religious allusions to be wonderful. ^^ You do all that meaning stuff very well, and they slide into the poem without taking away from the overall feel of the words.

The problem, I think, is in the words themselves. You have no lyricism here. There are bits and pieces,yes:

"Icarus was but a myth--
We are the fallen angels."

In particular. But for the most part, it's all very literal. No room for pretty words, or beauty within the poem itself. I think to engage and connet properly with your reader you need to have some emotive words, some reason for the reader to connect and love what you're saying.To believe what you're saying, your message.

Again, I like this, but you need to give me a reason to connect. Some adjectives, description, rather than blank recital. I'm sure you can work it all out, you smart bunny you. But if you have any questions, just ask, and I'll be happy to explain what I mean.

*Hearts* Le Penguin.



Who wants to become a writer? And why? Because it’s the answer to everything. It’s the streaming reason for living. To note, to pin down, to build up, to create, to be astonished at nothing, to cherish the oddities, to let nothing go down the drain, to make something, to make a great flower out of life, even if it’s a cactus.
— Enid Bagnold