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Disturbing the universe.
| Critical Analysis #1 |
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Disturbing the universe. |
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aurora rain Member
since 2000-11-15
Posts 90 |
this is prose...but i wanted critical analysis on it. so i posted it here. i hope that's all right. ____________________________________ disturbing the universe Today in my head, there are endless flights in arms swaying, the silk that is draped over shoulder blades gliding over the skin beneath, eyelets and eyelets and brocade and velvet, the slow divergence of evening and afternoon as what sentiments are meant to meld together slip themselves apart. The world seems the same, faces seem the same, whirls and blotches and dots and rays, enumerating the subtlest differences of color, the slightest twitch of change between before and after. We are caught with the breeze. I don’t want to disturb the universe with my concerns this morning. I don’t want to open the shutters and toss my sentiments through the window, out into the open air: the clouds of smoke, the scent of cut-grass, the resounding rhythm of city-sidewalk-highway bustle, voices high-pitched and low-timbre, decibels in ranges across the board, cheeks red and bitten from cold, scarves flying halfway across faces, blown behind jackets, tattered newspapers skittering across sidewalks in harmony with the wind, the click-click of stiletto heels, the clomp-clomp of businessman dress shoes, the whirls of coffee, the yawns of early morning. If it’s love, then it’s love. It can hold its head back with the others as they surround themselves in earth and sky and sea. It can contain its proclamations of anger and frustration within four walls; it can let the color build and build, hue upon hue until its shade becomes overwhelmed and the light blows its fuse and the world fades to black. If you don’t understand, then I will try to make you understand. If I am evening, and you are morning, we must work together to make the sun rise. I could stay forever in pitch-black-velvet, under eyes of alone with no conscience to rouse me from daydreams but my own. And I’m far too afraid of them. Far too afraid of their disparaging voices, their destructive implications, their ability to strike impending fear where fear should not belong. (don’t make me feel guilty for them) [This message has been edited by aurora rain (edited 02-18-2001).] |
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| © Copyright 2001 aurora rain - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
I enjoyed the second paragraph tremendously -- nicely done (maybe a little repetitive stylistically -- the 'of' phrases at the end but that's not a big deal -- but many poets could use this as an example of what can be done with real, concrete description). The rest seems just a little too vague but perhaps that's showing the strength of that second paragraph relative to the others. I don't understand the fear part at the end. I understand the relationships your setting up here but you night need to move into that more gradually. Is this part of a series or a short story that you plan to give us in parts? Just an opinion, Brad |
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J.L. Humphres Member
since 2000-01-03
Posts 201Alabama |
Aurora, I've read, re-read, even printed this one out so that I could read it while away from the computer. This piece speaks to my subconcious but my concious self just can't seem to grasp the meaning behind it. I absolutely love this piece it's like abstract art with words instead of paint. There's not really anything I can say in the way of a critique except may be change up some of the words that appear repetitively. Other than that good piece. I would like to know what it is about. I'm afraid to even take a stab at it.  J.L.H. Jason God is a warm whisper from the cool void. Jack Kerouac |
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