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Corruption
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Corruption |
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cheryl cook Junior Member
since 2000-02-07
Posts 12 |
Corruption A tattered, torn paper floating with the wind carries stories of injustice that make our minds spin. Letters of resentment fill the page, the letters spell entrapment, tragedy and rage whispering hatred of a foreign way. So why claim to understand the mixed up violence of another land when our children sleep in beds with sugar-plum-fairies in their heads placed there on command? A child holds a gun, finger shaking on the trigger, in a world so close to our own Tele-violence where death is entertainment; how do we figure? His consequence is small, necessity slapped in our face the cough and shuffle silence puts us in our place. An everyday existence, a true acceptance of life. Clouds hanging heavy wash away fears, blinded is reality when the sky is falling. We are all mirrors accepting new ways, cellophane souls reflecting destruction. Satisfied but ignorant and ignorance is bliss. So wash away my tears. Cheryl Cook |
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
Cheryl, You have some interesting moments here but I'm at a loss as to the goal. What are you trying to accomplish here? A tattered, torn paper floating with the wind carries stories of injustice that make our minds spin. Letters of resentment fill the page, the letters spell entrapment, tragedy and rage whispering hatred of a foreign way. --You've got a strong first stanza. I was definitely interested and wanted to read more. The last line, however, is too vague and thing you should be more specific and tell us what part of the world you are talking about. So why claim to understand the mixed up violence of another land when our children sleep in beds with sugar-plum-fairies in their heads placed there on command? --While I find it hard to believe that children today actually dream of 'sugar-plum-fairies', I really like the last line here. You've got a subliminal culture influence going on here. Maybe expand this idea a little. A child holds a gun, finger shaking on the trigger, in a world so close to our own Tele-violence where death is entertainment; how do we figure? --I'd let the child image stand by itself but I do like the words tele-violence. The rest is moralizing which actually detracts from the image. His consequence is small, necessity slapped in our face the cough and shuffle silence puts us in our place. --Is this what your poem is really saying? Here's where I start to get confused. An everyday existence, a true acceptance of life. --The child? The viewer? What is a 'true acceptance of life'? Sorry, but you've lost me here. Clouds hanging heavy wash away fears, blinded is reality when the sky is falling. --Uhhh, I've alread read Chicken Little. Wonder if you might try something different here. We are all mirrors accepting new ways, cellophane souls reflecting destruction. --Mirrors are uses often in poetry but I still like them (maybe because I think the poetential there has not been tapped yet). Expand and develop this image -- a lot you can do with this. Satisfied but ignorant and ignorance is bliss. So wash away my tears. --Sorry, but you seem to be arguing that ignorance is a good thing here (and the phrase is overused anyway). If the intention is ironic here, I think you need to create a stronger 'voice' in the poem -- give us someone that we know can actually say something like this and mean it. The stanzas before, to me anyway, indicates a character too intelligent to believe this. Thanks. Just an opinion, Brad |
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