Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for violence.
There are too many words for passive, dear
and I'd like to carve their names
on a smooth stone, so I may cast it
across the war, and let letters spill out
in burgundy tones as it sinks.
So that we may forget the day
they came to you and dragged you,
screaming and crying the name of a god
you didn't believe in, while I stood
as Antaeus - frozen in earth,
eyes fixed on the road
spiraling like Jacob's Ladder away.
And I have already carved myself here
on the polished rock to make myself cave
by the memory of how they called you Malvinas,
and needed to borrow you for a time -
to stick you on an operating table
and stick needles in you.
We are puppets, fit to be snapped
and cleaved and burned by any will, any hand.
They have reminded me that death is contention,
it is mellow and tranquil, like sunset skies.
But I am tired of such sentiments,
so I will let the blood pouring
from my white smile scream novels for me
and prostrate myself by ochre shores and orange skies
on a beach that I have never lived by,
but will never live away from anymore.
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139,688 Literary Works • 672,649 Reviews
Your flow, here, is what I strive for. Your images are visceral and the narration wrenches emotion from emotion. Yakitsa's right. It's a triumph. An unnoticed triumph.
My largest criticism is that "We are puppets...any hand." is unnecessary for the whole of the narration and concept, and in fact detracts from the cohesion you've built around the stones, the images, the mythology, the narration, THE MYTHOLOGY. Jesus, Fox.
I'm almost tempted to suggest replacing "I am tired of such sentiments" with platitudes since that's what all the death mantras build into. There's also a point at which your refusal to contract words hinders your flow--just as there's a point where my contractions hinder mine and need to be uncoupled.
The first line. THE FIRST LINE, FOX. There are so many gems here. Even the platitudes about death are gems. Your verbosity gets the better of you in the final stanza by just a hair between "Novels for me...lived by," which is a shame because the whispering ending is quite severe and devastating. I love it.
It'd work well as spoken word. It'd work well in ink. It just works, and deserves more attention.
Tag me and we'll chat about this.
Ty
This poem is a triumph- you have impressed me indefinitely, but there is still slight scope for improvement. I think a little editing will definitely birth a masterpiece. I love the story it tells- your command over English is powerful and I see the gory scenes of screams and struggle vividly in my head. There isn't much I'd want to correct.
Your first line is strong and commanding- but I feel a lot of the impact is lost in the second line. You've connected what appears to be two completely unrelated sentiments- especially because the reader is not informed as to whose name you wish to carve. Of course, you clarify who 'they' are in the second verse, but a sense of confusion lingers. I would suggest reconsidering the order of introducing 'they', or perhaps having more clarity in the first verse itself.
I commend your skillful use of words for imagery- it has been very well executed. Especially the bit with words spilling out in burgundy tones. You lost me with the words 'sinks' though. It's too watery- as opposed to the heat of war.
I would recommend altering 'they came to you' so that it becomes 'they came for you'. It suits the context better- coming to a person propounds a certain amount of amiability, which is certainly not the case here.
I am a huge fan of your many analogies- especially their source.
The comparison to Antaeus is commendably thoughtful, but I think 'frozen on earth' will provide better meaning and flow than 'frozen in earth'
'...myself cave by the memory' should be updated to '...myself cave from the memory'
THIS is were the poem becomes a story. This is where the reader finally comprehends- all previous hints were vague and only a build up to this substantive piece of information. It fuels the hatred for 'they', it justifies their negative portrayal, it realises why 'they' have been antagonised.
I failed to understand the contradiction in this statement- there is nothing tranquil about contention, which is defined as a heated disagreement or an assertion, especially one maintained in argument. Maybe reevaluate your usage of this word? Remember that the word 'contention' doesn't actually have anything to do with the feeling of being 'content'.
I enjoyed the last verse, but it doesn't wrap up the story. I get the weariness, the tiredness because of all that has happened, but it could do with work. This is actually a major compliment to you- you have left me curious and hungry for more! You've dropped all these hints in the previous verses, you've made us feel all these emotions- such a grand work warrants a neat and conclusive ending. The beach sounds pretty, but it's such a sudden concept out of previous context, it's a slightly awkward ending.
You did good, kid, you did real good.