In an upside-down garden
I'm attempting to respond while I read, instead of after I read, so I might get a tad repeatative in places.
Frail bodies lay in a diluted trance
while on their skin, Beezlebub did dance
calling a host of Vultures to the scene
For the first time in a while, the opening stanza of a poem has actually painted a picture inside my mind. I can clearly see it and actually reminds me quite of something that I dreamt once.
Faces among the dying caught my eyes
reaching at me with tender affirmation
You continue to paint the picture and as I read this, my website partner was busy informing me of the history of Beezlebub. These two lines caught my eye because it allowed me to invision the teller of this as they walk through the story.
"Behold," said one, "as now the Lord of Lies
His curse upon the living Muses plies
And renders all to bitter desecration."
I like this part because you refer to the Lord of Lies, which paints mystery in my mind. I can imagine all of this inside my head, and it's fascinating.
"I fear," another said, "the consequence
Upon th'enlightened sympathies of those
Whose hearts are tender, and whose greater sense
Could otherwise the dying reeds incense
With radiance, and deeper truths disclose."
As this is the first stanza that is purely speech, it shows something different than the others. Your voice throughout this is wonderful so far and I adore it.
"But I," I stammered, fearful of the state
Of the collapsing Earth, "cannot decree
The tales that you to my intents relate,
I fear that I may likewise desecrate
The state of things, or yet more possibly
Throw but a spark at the all-quenching sea
And rend my efforts lost in history."
This is one of my favorite stanzas in this, as you show the storyteller of this tale, and he speaks and reacts in such an interesting mannor. I especially love the last line of this.
"Dear child," another voice my heart assured,
"Have faith that thou art temparate, and though
Thy craft be primitive, thy vision blurred,
The Powers that be shall animate thy word
With Vision higher, as thine efforts grow
And thine Experience to thee doth show
The Truth by virtue of the high Absurd.
I especially enjoy the way you started this stanza, Brian, choosing to use the "dear child". It's soothing almost, and continues to develop the story of this poem.
Behold the vastness of the path before---
It is a cemetary draped in vines
Names of the scribes of thy enamored lore
Are long disfigured from their native shore
Upon which a more frightening shade reclines
Muting all promise of their ortive lines.
I don't really have very much to say about this stanza, except for that I enjoy it.
I fear," the voice confided, as the clouds
Departed from the atmosphere, "That we
Have seen our time of Day, and been allowed
The time allotted us---ere night-time shrouds
Our virtues from the hapless progeny
Of our dead kinsmen, I must ask of thee,
How many yet remain of the avowed?"
The beginning of this reminded me, for some odd reason, of a passage in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I'm not exactly sure why, but that was an interesting element that was drawn into my mind.
Sadly, my reading is now disrupted. Perhaps I will return later.
All in all, it has so far been a very intruiging reading, Brian. You know I always have strange interpretations, so who knows where this one could lead.
[This message has been edited by Allysa (12-17-2003 03:14 PM).]