Critical Analysis #1 |
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Confessions--A dramatic monologue (a very rough draft) |
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Brian Murphy New Member
since 2000-04-19
Posts 1Athens, GA |
Introduction To understand me, To understand anyone, To understand anything, You have to know where it's coming from This isn't the beginning, But it might as well be. You see, I'm not talking about History or Biography. I'm talking about constitution. Not chronological experience, But what those experiences equal, When consummated within the individual. This is just a starting point. Jazz I told my dad I was concerned about his drinking. He took it as an affront And counterattacked with a blitzkrieg of *@#* yous; The coup de force: Get Out! He didn't mean it For the fifth night in a row. All I want to do Is walk alone through a park Under the soft glow lights And waxy magnolia leaves To figure some things out. I wish I could hear, there, The spectre songs of some saxophone Wisping through steamy city streets Like hot clouds exhaled from heavy iron plates Gillespy, Davis and Coltrane must have heard these, And made them their own lamentations. Made their pain beautiful and sweet Like innocence. Maybe these could share my bohemian dissatisfaction But there is no connection. Eyes The windows to the soul are hands. Hands are our most awkward parts. One never knows what to do with them. Fidgety, I stick mine deep in my pockets So they don't reveal my secrets. The man across the bar, sitting in a booth With two beauties has hands that act on their own. This guy is the casa nova smooth operator That sold his soul to the devil To lose those uncertain hands. He has become a predator. His hands are demons like his heart I will hide my hands Until they find a task. Eyes are more deceptive than hands, Deep wells that seem to sink forever In crystal pools, Are really superficial. They can change with a blink From honest to sinister With complete subtlety. Don't trust eyes; the man in the corner Has mastered them. His eyes have hypnotized his beauties, Deceived them for all they wish to see With an enchanting glimmer. My eyes are as uncertain as my hands, But they are easier to mask. My hands pin me against the wall Like writing. [This message has been edited by Brian Murphy (edited 07-02-2000).] |
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© Copyright 2000 Brian Murphy - All Rights Reserved | |||
Forrest Cain Member
since 2000-04-21
Posts 306Chas.,W.V. USA |
Brian overall I liked very well, especially the last two stanzas, though each following the other seemed to be better. I`m sure when elyse and the other poet guru's evaluate this they gave give you much better direction. I can only say that there were power in your words. forrest |
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Elyse Member
since 2000-04-16
Posts 414Apex (think raleigh) NC |
This, my dear brian, was excellent. not a fan of the into though, i must confess. i might punctuate %^&* yous with quotes ("@#$% you"s or something like that. Cassanova i beleive was some dude's name, anyway, i know it should be one word. otherwise, i found this incredibly graceful and skillful, and look forward to seeing what next you post. Simply a lovely poem. luv Elyse |
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Paula Finn Member Ascendant
since 2000-06-17
Posts 5546missouri |
I cannot critique I can only say the way you take me through your thoughts is powerful, deceptively so. |
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YeshuJah Malikk Member
since 2000-06-29
Posts 263 |
Brian, this is exceptionally crisp for a rough draft. The multiple viewpoints flow in and out of each other seamlessly. This is way cool. I look for the finished product. YeshiuJah*) |
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