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Narration
| Critical Analysis #1 |
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Narration |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland 
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Lying here on a bed my hands eclipse eyes to block the fake light, in the blindness I only see flashes of the future; beclouded and in strobe as negatives out of focus. "What marvellous words can be scrapped from dirt to harness all my agony? Still what beauty it reaps lures the soul ever closer to tragedy. HATE has never brought progress as LOVE has never protected against the heartless." Each fragment of settling dust recounts a lifetime wasted in reflection of a dark yesterday. All I wish to do is to forever fall, yet at the bottom I am trapped to stare despairingly at the ceiling; an unreachable destination where all is numb to my complaint. I have stretched my arms to embrace yet the gap between is always empty. Lost in self-sorrows I suffocated my love that once gave solace, now hangs as a dead stone from my neck. While lying here I believe I can break beyond these bed sit walls that never responded to my needs. Loneliness questions sanity in this infected din of a million unknowns. I summon a paralysis in waiting for a resolve. In the waking of my emptiness I feel a familiar touch, the gentle embrace of my guardians, whispering softly to lull my misery. < !signature--> A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry [This message has been edited by brian madden (edited 06-24-2000).] |
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| © Copyright 2000 brian madden - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Tim Gouldthorp Member
since 2000-01-03
Posts 170 |
brian, I certainly found this poem very interesting. You use a lot of images and bring in a lot of ideas. I like the image of the strobe light and the future. I think you could make a good poem out of this but I think it needs a lot of editing to make more directed. This poem conveyed very powerfully a state of paralysis where the world (and words) cannot cope with the emotions felt. The guardians seem to me prison keepers of the soul, chaining it in sweet solipsical fetters. Again i feel this poem was very powerful and although i can't suggest exactly how i'd suggest editing it, i think this poem will take a lot of work to bring diffuse and sometimes ambiguous ideas (eg the tension bewteen the wish to fall, between embracing nihilism and a wish for meaning, which I feel is needed in your poem) into a unity or a higher perspective. This is the role of the poet. Sorry i can't give more specific advice than this. Good work. -Tim |
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Elyse Member
since 2000-04-16
Posts 414Apex (think raleigh) NC |
hi brian! i found much of this to be very graceful. and i liked it much. some comments for you... beclouded - a made up word? perhaps. even if (and this is highly possible) such a word exists, i find it a bit of a mouthful, especially to begin a line. who are you quoting i wonder? am not a big fan of the LOVE HATE lines, seems obvious and a bit unnecessary. what is a bed sit wall? was that a typo probably? infected din of a million unknowns  anyway, i liked this lots. very honest, very true. luv Elyse |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland |
Thank you for your response. I agree editing would help the poem but I don't know how to approach it either. Thanks for the fed back. For me the "guardians" in the poem, are my friends. The poem was about when I was going to college, first moved away from home and I was staying in accommodation and one night I was just bored out of my mind, lying on my bed staring at the ceiling. And the only thing that kept me focused was thoughts of my closest friends. Hence the line, "the gentle embrace of my guardians, whispering softly to lull my misery". Thanks for your response. Elyse, Thanks for your reply. yes the word "becloud" does exist. I liked the sound of the word and I like to use new words in my poems but you have a very valid point. To my thesaurus for an another word. "obscure" seems to be the only good word I can use. I am quoting myself, hence the title narration. I put it in " " as it is some what separate from the rest of the poem. It is a comment of the role of the poet and how he deals with pain, and perhaps the poet is more sensitive to pain, " What marvellous words can be scrapped from dirt to harness all my agony? Still what beauty it reaps lures the soul ever closer to tragedy". That then was to tie in with my current state of misery, but perhaps a different approach is needed and those lines could be reworked to fit in with the rest of the poem. what is a "bed sit" wall? A bed sit is a term, maybe a European term, another word for "digs" or student accommodation. Thank your for your advice and feedback. =============================================== ok I just completed a rewrite. please I would appreciate your comments on both versions. Thanks in advance. --------- Narration Lying, on a bed, my hands eclipse eyes to block the fake light. In the blindness I only see flashes of the future; obscured and in strobe as negatives out of focus. What words of solace can I claw from dirt to harness my agony? Still the peace maybe reaped lures me closer to misery. Each fragment of settling dust recounts a lifetime wasted in reflection of a dark yesterday. All I wish to do is to forever fall, alas I am trapped staring despairingly at the ceiling; an unreachable destination. Here all are numb to my complaint. I stretch my arms to embrace yet the void between is always empty. Lost in self-sorrows I suffocate my love; my only consolation now hangs as a dead stone from my neck. While lying here I believe I can breach beyond these bed sit walls that never respond to my needs. Loneliness questions sanity in this infected din of a million unknowns. I summon a paralysis in waiting for a resolve. In the waking of my emptiness, I feel a familiar touch, the tenderness of my guardians, whispering softly to lull my misery. ============================================== "I see myself as an intelligent, sensitive human, with the soul of a clown which forces me to blow it at the most important moments". Jim Morrison [This message has been edited by brian madden (edited 06-25-2000).] |
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Elyse Member
since 2000-04-16
Posts 414Apex (think raleigh) NC |
i think the changes you made work well. big smile from me |
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
I, also, think that you have something going here but feel you lose something in the abstractions -- I feel a loss of the 'illusion of immediacy'. I'm going to offer a few suggestion but I don't know if they'll help or hurt -- maybe I can offer a few new roads to consider: Lying, on a bed, my hands --thinking about dropping the whole bed part. This allows for a double play with 'lying' as well -- something you might want to wish to explore. eclipse eyes to block the fake light. --this is a great image but I think a stronger adjective than 'fake' might help here -- maybe something with two or three syllables. In the blindness I only see flashes of the future; --Okay obscured and in strobe as negatives out of focus. --obscured isn't necessary and I would decide which image you want to portray -- a strobe light or a negative. I don't they they're the same thing. By the way, either one greatly enhances the poem. What words of solace can I claw from dirt to harness my agony? --A little too much for taste. Maybe drop the question altogether. Still the peace maybe reaped lures me closer to misery. --stay with the first images. You're starting to move in too many directions at once. Each fragment of settling dust recounts a lifetime wasted in reflection of a dark yesterday. --too vague -- give us the actual reflection, don't tell us about it. All I wish to do is to forever fall, --split infinitive and forever is always a dangerous words to use. alas I am trapped staring despairingly --'alas' is too melodramatic for my taste and I think you can do without 'despairingly' but at the ceiling; --you've returned to the original image and that's a good thing. Can you see what I'm trying to get you to do now, see how I want you to get away from the emotional description and into the concrete. Let the images suggest the emotion, don't tell us. an unreachable destination. --Which is? Here all are numb to my complaint. --Almost works but you need to be more specific. In the proper context, this could work though. I stretch my arms to embrace yet the void between is always empty. --suggest this by showing us exactly what you do: I stretch my arms but never reach the ceiling (iambic pentameter with an extra syllable by the way )Lost in self-sorrows I suffocate --drop the sorrows part and talk about hyper-ventilation. my love; my only consolation now hangs as a dead stone from my neck. drop the 'my love' part but keep the rest. Maybe use 'touch' or some other verb to keep the action going. Something from the ceiling to the stone movement. While lying here I believe I can breach beyond these bed sit walls that never respond to my needs. --think this could be rewritten or simply dropped altogether. Loneliness questions sanity in this --need to be more concrete; again, show this feeling, don't tell us. infected din of a million unknowns. --describing your feelings again intead of suggesting them. How about a direct quote or something to magnify this? I summon a paralysis in waiting for a resolve. I like this. In the waking of my emptiness, I feel a familiar touch, the tenderness of my guardians, whispering softly to lull my misery. --need to rewrite this and suggest or show what actually happens; real voices rather than telling us about those voices. Just an opinion, Brad |
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brian madden Member Elite
since 2000-05-06
Posts 4374ireland |
Brad, thanks for your reply. I see your point. Yes there is that little sting, but it not pride but rather the thought of having to go back to the drawing board. I am grateful for your suggestions though some of them seem to involve changing the context of the poem, still you have given me alot to play around with and much food for thought. Thank you for your suggestions they were really helpful ------------------ later, ok I have been playing around with this. following Brad's advice, and making some changes myself. The poem is some what different and does not have the postive ending. ---------------- Narration Lying, my hands eclipse eyes to block the electric light. In blindness I only see flashes of the future; as negatives out of focus. Every speck of dust settling on skin marks life wasted in bare existence. I crawl between the sheets, struggling to escape this replica of another dark yesterday. I need to fall yet I am trapped staring at the ceiling, the whitewash cracks seem to offer asylum, yet it is an unreachable destination. Here all are numb to my complaint. they can not hear my silence pleas, my weak screams or my hidden sorrow. I stretch my arms to embrace a partner yet the void between is always empty. I suffocate, drowning in still oxygen. My only consolation now hangs as a dead stone from my neck. Isolation questions sanity twisting my reality to constant dull echo. There are no concerned angels in this infected din of a million strangers. I summon a paralysis in waiting for a resolve. "An abyss that lasted creation A circus complete with all fools Foundations that lasted the ages Then ripped apart at their roots" joy division [This message has been edited by brian madden (edited 06-26-2000).] |
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