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Critical Analysis #1
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Humdrum town
| Critical Analysis #1 |
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Humdrum town |
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Patrick B Member
since 1999-10-28
Posts 58uk |
when does it all start to end my eyes lack the will to comprehend just another humdrum town mouths are opened without a sound I can't take another street where headless sheep mock my bleat I walk the wounded without the blood then I push when others shove I stop and the crowds wash my space stroke my clothes and soap my face and singing nuns kick the habit and pull another faithless rabbit still no end in sight remove my gloves for one more fight inverted frowns have nice days stiff my pockets and hope it pays peeling layers off russian dolls and take my daily glycerol as other people spurn their chances and throw themselves comfort glances frustrated life long country boys buy themselves new world toys and crush the mounting expectations then spike the rock on vacations yet I still think of far away as I splash my eyes with ocean spray the pier head tells me what I lack and ratchets up my torture rack missing ships tower over me rips my sails and chains my feet packing hopes in steels containers and leaving all the tranced abstainers my life story always beckons I hope a stranger has ten seconds the devil works my idle hands and joyrides my reprimands I tire so easily now squeezing milk from dying cows did anyone else miss the joke get the white without the yolk and melt into a dying town where lungless fish beg to drown but hook themselves on opium air and drink the smogs translucent glare a tourist tries to steal my view his flashing lights tell my truth and still..... when does it all start to end where do truth and now meet then blend hello darkness my old friend |
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| © Copyright 2000 Patrick B - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Tony Di Bart Member
since 2000-01-26
Posts 160Toronto, Canada |
Hey patrick. I like your poem. Overall the rhythm is good and easy to follow. There are one or two places where I tripped. You have some very goodlines. and singing nuns kick the habit and pull another faithless rabbit where lungless fish beg to drown but hook themselves on opium air |
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Diana B Member
since 2000-03-10
Posts 97 |
as always patrick... "heart sorrowed shadows dancing with the walrus" |
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Diana B Member
since 2000-03-10
Posts 97 |
patrick...i went back and reread this again and need to tell you how wonderful this work is...you have truly captured the spirit of town with your images "I walk the wounded without the blood then I push when others shove" "missing ships tower over me rips my sails and chains my feet" "did anyone else miss the joke get the white without the yolk and melt into a dying town where lungless fish beg to drown but hook themselves on opium air and drink the smogs translucent glare a tourist tries to steal my view his flashing lights tell my truth" your words have taken me home again and i thank you for the images i needed to mature those remaining from my childhood...a perfect piece of work patrick. [This message has been edited by Diana B (edited 03-17-2000).] |
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Craig Member
since 1999-06-10
Posts 444 |
I really enjoyed reading this, I liked the style and the easy manner in which the content came across, I don’t have a critique to offer as such, just an observation and a suggestion. I noticed on reading this poem that there are a lot of wasted words........ I didn’t put that too well did I? I’ll try again. In this poem there are a lot of words that could be left out without affecting the overall meaning, in fact in some places the omissions could actually enhance the words that are left behind ! Re-writing someone’s poem without permission is generally a bad thing to do, but I’m going to do it anyway, hopefully, to show you what I’m trying to say. If you don’t agree feel free to completely ignore me, laugh at me and call me a fool, I won’t take offense, honestly. when does it all start to end my eyes lack will to comprehend just another humdrum town mouths opened without a sound I can't take another street where headless sheep mocking bleat I walk the wounded without blood to push when others shove I stop the crowds wash my space stroke my clothes soap my face.. In truth it doesn’t matter whether you decide to change a thing in this poem, either way I’ll still like it, I just thought I’d let you know what I was thinking (for what it’s worth) Thanks for the chance to read and reply. Craig Yes, I admit your general rule. That every poet is a fool: But I myself may serve to show it. That every fool is not a poet. |
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Patrick B Member
since 1999-10-28
Posts 58uk |
Thanks both for your comments,I am trying to trim down on *those* words Craig and you pinpointed where I could do it perfectly......I'll certainly do a re write using your suggestion.....thank you  hello darkness my old friend |
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Craig Member
since 1999-06-10
Posts 444 |
Patrick Whoa!!! Hold on there just one minute, don’t go taking my word as gospel, I’d get the advice of a few more REAL poets before I did any major surgery on my say so! Third rate poets are apt to give out third rate advice you know. But thanks for at least considering my opinion as valid. Craig Yes, I admit your general rule. That every poet is a fool: But I myself may serve to show it. That every fool is not a poet. |
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Patrick B Member
since 1999-10-28
Posts 58uk |
Well other poets have stated something similar so taking a broad cross section I think it's safe to say your insight was pretty accurate .....just a sharpening up hello darkness my old friend |
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