My eyelids weigh in endless night
This broken wake, my solitary blight
Should I close my eyes to see
Puppet strings and mastery
Or should I stay awake to find
A pen to direct my own demise
But even in wake I come to face
The monsters that I love to chase
My arms lift on their own accord
Strings at each joint, flesh a wooden board
Mind battles the physical line
My scissors cut, end my time
My body falls, neither asleep nor awake
For a puppet has no thoughts to make
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Wow! The metaphors in this poem are so good. The words are well chosen and the flowing rhymes are awesome!!
Although there are some missing punctuations here and there, its fine because it doesn't harm the flow even a wee bit.
Amazing start. To me, it seems like a transition from a human to a puppet. Because in these stanzas, it feels that the human is dreading the time he will become a puppet. The phrase 'A pen to direct my own demise' is so apt here. It gives the gist of the poem. The mere fact that you don't seem to own when you'll die is conveying that you are not in charge of your own life. But who is the master? A tyrant on this earth? Or god from heavens? The answer weighs more on the former side. But the latter can also be a possibility. That is, when we are in a cynical mood.
These stanzas indicate the transformation. Unlike in the first ones, where the person had the choice at least to wake and sleep, here he is found totally helpless with the phrase'For a puppet has no thoughts to make'. End my time...is so good a phrase. And yet, how does the puppet fall when the scissors cut his strings? Shouldn't he escape- unless he's dead. Which is a great possibility if only the last two lines didn't make it a mystery!!
Wonderful poem anyways. I loved reading this. Keep going mordax
Thank you so much for this review!
A puppet is merely an instrument performing the compulsory dance of an unseen master. So, the question is, who is pulling your strings? Or are you really "lifting your arms of your own accord?" My interpertertation is one in which you have awoken from a dream which is more real than reality, the REAL reality, where you have seen the "master" and are now once more in the Matrix with the illusion of free will, forced to scribe the monsters of some horrific fantasy. But no! For the masters know you know: this cannot be allowed! The Fates cord is cut: the transmissions to your tortured brain cease. You die.
I would have provided more details to the metaphor, if I were you. The concept is so fun and interesting! What more could you do to flesh out what the puppet is thinking and feeling, but hid the truth of the poem in plain sight? I had fun making my own interpretation.
Wow! I loved this! And thank you for your suggestion!!
Sorry, this was an accidental copy. Of the same review, if anyone here is a mod feel free to take this comment down, thanks.
Very interesting and good poem, I'm still trying to figure out the message of the poem but it seems like a very interesting one. The form is very good too, with the rhyme scheme starts with a heroic couplet, before going into stanzas with two rhymes each. Also, if you do a poem like this in the future with a similar theme, I have an idea for the form. While the speaker is debating weather or not to think freely, the poem is in free verse and there is no reason or rhyme to the form but as they realize its importance, the form goes into a strict rhyme scheme, this could show through form the feeling of the rhyme scheme almost retreating back into control. Also note this is just an idea for a future poem and this one is already quite good.
Ooh! I love that idea! And thank you for the feedback.
Hey there!
If we're getting into lyrical rhyming, I'd say that "line" and "time" don't rhyme like the other lines. Mainly because one ends in a harsh n sound? I don't really know how to explain it, but "time" doesn't really end the same way. Looking at "awake" and "make," there's a clear rhyme there with the k sound at the end of the word, so maybe use this site to find similar sounding words. That's my favorite for when I'm stuck.
flesh a wooden board
I love the imagery throughout, but this one I don't understand. It's a reference to a puppet, yes, but it feels a little weird. When I think of wooden boards, I don't think puppet, I think a random plank used for woodworking things. It helps get into the world of your poem, but maybe reworking that could be less confusing.
Puppet strings and mastery
This might just be me, but I feel like "mastery" doesn't work here. I'm not loving it because the word means "comprehensive knowledge or skill in a subject or accomplishment" and that doesn't fit with the whole theme of puppets.
Though, it could possibly be a reference to dreaming to be a better writer? The "A pen to direct my own demise" part makes me think that, but still a little rough in my opinion.
Anyway, this is really good!
Best,
Max
Thank you for your review! And yes, I know "line" and "time" don't rhyme but as they were somewhat similar in sound I thought I could make it pass, lol. But as for the "wooden board" imagery, I completely understand where you are coming from. I will try to change that a bit, thank you!