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Critical Analysis #1
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Who am I?
| Critical Analysis #1 |
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Who am I? |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland 
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having read Lady lost's poem in open 11 "who is Beth?" and also recently seen "Sophie's world" I was inspired to write a poem, exploring the question "Who am I?" but it seems tangled up, too all over place, I like the tangents but at the moment I can't even see a way of editing this without losing the feel of the poem. I would really appreciate some help on this one. Thanks guys. =========================== I used to hide from its awry gaze, and deny myself the comfort of skin worn as an ill fitting duffel coat, though not in these days, where I ponder identity and domino philosophy in full presence of my looking glass stage. Though I must confess to Alice syndrome, for I am a spectator to a topsy turvy reality. With each question resolved I am left with three unsolved. So that I just continue to chase my tail, waiting for the white hares of insanity to crown me, and proclaim me Confucius. Forever confused, like Galileo squinting through a blacked out lens. My skin, my fears my everything obstruct my vision. I have looked so deep my eyes ache, I fear they will explode at their sockets like omelette volcanoes. For now I am just staring intensely into me, and seeing nothing not even a ghost a myth or fabrication. it is all just murky water, a mask of sickly browns, reflecting distortions of knowledge already acquired. Anything new is revealed only in Braille. In order to evolve I have to dare to place my fingers into the shadows. Is that why I was given ten digits? Ten mistakes to be made, then what, be fingerless after stumbling across crocodiles and mousetraps? So I go to sleep, slip into a dream where God is still unknown and the universe so small as those who see it can perfectly understand its workings without puzzlement or query. < !signature--> "In the shadowplay, acting out your own death, knowing no more As the assassins all grouped in four lines, dancing on the floor" Joy division [This message has been edited by brian madden (edited 12-23-2000).] |
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| © Copyright 2000 brian madden - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
Brian, You have some tantalizing lines here but you don't seem really interested in exploring them. What does it mean to become Confucius? How do your feelings compare to Galileo? What if everything (new) could only be read in Braille? This reads as if it were written too quickly, almost like a kind of automatic writing and I think that hinders what insights you may have to offer. Try to give it more of a center and try to explore more of the metaphors you're playing with. This could easily be four poems as I read it. liked 'omelette volcanos' but I want to see more description. Just an opinion, Brad |
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Lerk Junior Member
since 2000-11-17
Posts 49Dayton, OH USA |
coincidentally, I was going to say (before I read Brad's comments) that I would split this into two separate poems. the first half is more of an uncertain, exploring self and self esteem piece, and after the break, the second half is more existential poem that addresses issues outside the self. I agree there are some very good parts to it that need to be more consistent. I understood the Confucious line, but I felt it needed more context, like a following example. (maybe like " ...to find the wisdom in myself..") anyways, something good starting here...tighten it up, be ruthless with the parts that dont quite work, and whittle it down. |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland |
THank you both for your comments, Brad you are right it was written quickly and I guess I need to sit down with this one and explore the various tangents at greater length. THank you for the feed back and suggestions. "In the shadowplay, acting out your own death, knowing no more As the assassins all grouped in four lines, dancing on the floor" Joy division |
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warmhrt Senior Member
since 1999-12-18
Posts 1563 |
Brian...(Happy New Year!), A quick reply...short on time... Not being cutesy...I loved this poem. The omelette volcanoes, the mousetraps and alligators, "waiting for the white hares of insanity to crown me, and proclaim me Confucius"...all great imagery created by well crafted wording. The only lines I did not care for were: "like Galileo squinting through a blacked out lens" I felt that this image did not fit with the other images you have created within this work. Enjoyed the read, Brian...nice work, Kris All good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings...~William Wordsworth |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland |
Kris, thanks for reply and for the glowing critique. Well I have reworked the poem, taking everyone's input into consideration and have added some new sections. thanks for your help guys.  ======================================= I used to hide from its awry gaze, and deny myself the comfort of skin worn as an ill fitting duffel coat, though not in these days, where I ponder identity and domino philosophy in full presence of my looking glass stage. Though I must confess to Alice syndrome, for I am a spectator to a topsy turvy reality. With each question resolved I am left with three unsolved. So that I just continue to chase my tail, waiting for the white hares of insanity to crown me, and proclaim me Confucius sporting stigmata scars, bandaged in swabs of vinegar. My skins, my fears my everything clutter my vision like trash not worthy of a junk yard sale, .yet I live each day in self prostitution, on my knees eager to please every request. People look straight at me seeing only through tainted perception, an out of focus reception. I am the only one who dared looked inside of me. So deep my eyes now ache, I fear they will explode at their sockets like omelette volcanoes. My mirror reflection is an obsession and I am its one fixation. Two shades peer intensely at the other and see nothing not even a ghost a myth or fabrication. it is all just murky water, a mask of sickly browns, reflecting distortions of knowledge already acquired. Anything new is revealed only in Braille; meaningless dots you have to be blind to read. Oh the irony. To evolve I have to dare to place my fingers into the shadows. Is that why I was given ten digits? Ten mistakes to be made, then what, be fingerless after stumbling across crocodiles and mousetraps? Too unanchored that my bed is the only safe zone, so I slip into a dream where God is still unknown, and the Universe so small that those who see it can perfectly understand it. < !signature--> In the morning I am a recluse,lost in memory,ideal situations and convulsions... They built pop mart for Bono so he could gaze out across the bay and sing about mountains maybe" Whipping boy [This message has been edited by brian madden (edited 12-29-2000).] |
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Lana Member
since 2000-12-26
Posts 68 |
I enjoyed this one. |
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Sappho New Member
since 2000-12-30
Posts 6 |
First of all, you've created some beautiful images here, and have truly created a intricate world for the reader to explore. My only concern is that I feel the style is too detatched for a self-exploration. |
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Sappho New Member
since 2000-12-30
Posts 6 |
First of all, you've created some beautiful images here, and have truly created a intricate world for the reader to explore. My only concern is that I feel the style is too detatched for a self-exploration. |
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