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Critical Analysis #1
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Lotus Flower (1st draft)
| Critical Analysis #1 |
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Lotus Flower (1st draft) |
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Tony Di Bart Member
since 2000-01-26
Posts 160Toronto, Canada |
Bhangra blared over the loud speakers the rhythm beaconed to my primitive instincts, long ago engraved in my DNA Yet the lyrics where like a tooth ache to my foreign ears. She sat on and old cafeteria chair, rusty legs and a brown tattered seat, it was transformed instantly into a throne. She was the matriarch, leading her family through the wilderness from one watering hole to the next. She arrived here from Africa expelled from a land that was not hers. I could tell by her small ears that she was from the Indian sub-continent Her head swayed from side to side heavy with the memories she could not erase. Her sari, red and gold, wrapped her majestic amber skin while golden laced slippers blessed the ground they touched. A small lotus flower enticed us enthralled, speared our attention with her bright opiate dress. She danced and ancient dance of life and death of love and loss her small hands caressed the air forming words from stray oxygen molecules that had just left ganeshe’s trunk. She floated across the dance floor like a candle down the Ganges flickering against the immense river. teasing it and appeasing it offering it light in exchange for death The river watched the candle caressed it, as the flower did the air all the while entranced by the rhythm of the light against the night. The matriarch looked deep into the lotus flowers mind I could hear the voices, baritone and base, rumble with the secrets of life. Their pupils met and before they fused both turned and looked at me again the voices again I could not read I could only hear the rhythm, the throbbing like a tooth ache The secrets had been passed the memories were now safe in the young apprentices mind. |
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| © Copyright 2000 Anthony Di Bartolomeo - All Rights Reserved | |||
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haze Senior Member
since 1999-11-03
Posts 528Bethlehem, PA USA |
Oh-beautiful. I feel the rhythm and smell the scents of the dress-the opiate engaging as the story unwinds. Beautiful, entrancing-a lovely portrait of inspiration. I am now going to do something-I usually refrain from doing...I offer my pen to your piece (with the utmost respect) to be taken or left as you see fit. There is an element of magic (mojo) swirling through this. I simply feel it could be heightened with less language. Try it on. If it fits, take it home. Bhangra blared, a beckoning rhythm to primitive instincts engraved in DNA yet the lyrics wound tight like an ache in foreign ears. She was the matriarch, transforming an old cafeteria chair, rusty legs and a brown tattered seat, to a glittering throne. She sang of leading family through wilderness; one watering hole to the next and of arriving from Africa, expelled from a land that was not hers. Small ears spoke of India like the song that swayed her head from side to side, heavy with memories she could not erase. Sari, red and gold, wrapped majestic amber skin and gold laced slippers blessed the ground they touched. A small lotus flower enticed us. Enthralled, speared attention with a bright opiate dress Swirling in an ancient dance life and death, love and loss as small hands caressed the air with words, stray oxygen molecules from ganeshe’s trunk. She floated across the floor like a candle down the Ganges flickering, teasing, appeasing; offering light in exchange for death. The river watched and candle caressed, as the flower did the air. Entranced by rhythm, light gleamed against the night. The matriarch looked deep into the lotus blossom's mind. Audible voices, baritone and base, rumbled with the secrets of life. Their pupils met, before they fused. Both turned and looked at me. Again the voices. Again I could not read, but feel the rhythm throbbing, aching between my teeth. Secrets, passed as memories, now bloomed safe and young in apprentices mind. [This message has been edited by haze (edited 03-22-2000).] |
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Tony Di Bart Member
since 2000-01-26
Posts 160Toronto, Canada |
Haze Thank you for your comments and also thank you for taking the time to re-write or alter the poem. I think that some of the meaning i intended has been lost. However, I will re-write it tighter and with less words. I just posted this draft to get feed back on some of the initial concepts and ideas in the poem. Thanks for taking the time. PS. Keep posting I really enjoy your poetry. See ya [This message has been edited by Tony Di Bart (edited 03-22-2000).] |
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