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Critical Analysis #2
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a celebration of inconsistencies
| Critical Analysis #2 |
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a celebration of inconsistencies |
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Elizabeth Cor Senior Member
since 2000-10-13
Posts 879Over the river and through the woods 
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far past the corner of this horizon where stars are slipping under the solid lip of sky curved to earth it is three hours from this very moment and my mother is most likely sleeping, dreaming perhaps and not of lovely things I know this because in ways I forbid to seep in, I understand her the way an outsider can Auschwitz, the rotting of AIDS in your own blood, or the cavity it creases along the eyes of a loved one as they shrink underneath your hands, to watch lesions appear and recede… fingerprints of a lingering, gluttonous death from that distant ignorance there is a quiet pang grasping, in shadow, what is it like to need the presence of a man to emotional poverty eating first their affection but still starving … to cannibalize your own heart, and once gone, carve your mind out for sustenance, binge until the soul is hollow, the body locked behind the sallow walls of an institution [the simulation of] love actually essential for survival and so, taking that, what it must feel like to stake your life on a marriage and watch it dissolve to be alone, now house & hands empty of husband, lovers, and both children making less money in a year than her daughter who regards the woman chin upturned with the elevation of indifference, the length of one country used to cushion the sting of culpability that has inherited at least the silhouette of her mother’s co-dependence and lack of self-esteem who has been trying for 23 years to slowly scribble in that outline with individualism, independence, something resembling confidence or strength… … aspires to one day wake and meet in the mirror the eyes of a woman solid, and at peace with her choices: that stares her down without balking, or blinking with remorse, a person she can finally fully respect but tonight visions are only the templed palms of a girl in a weak imitation of prayer whose veins throb with the twin destitution of her mother: a loneliness that seems to leisurely murder because at times -- like this very moment -- it all comes down to the matter of a man: the shatter of every lack falling like splinters of glass along skin: weakness, jealousy, lack of identity and, at times, sanity … how I’ve healed over, become, at last, what he had hoped for but, given the choice, I wouldn’t wish myself on his heart, ever again (this, I feel, is progress, delusion, perhaps, that permits me to stake faith in the idea that I am superior to her … and on an separate level, almost allows me identify with being a good person) I’d rather he find the elusive ideal that will comfort and complete him I was never very good at that anyway… [This message has been edited by Elizabeth Cor (07-06-2002 04:20 PM).] |
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Kirk T Walker Member
since 2000-01-13
Posts 357Liberty, MO |
-I thought the emotion came through very well in this one without being drowned out by the biography, setting, etc. Nice job. -I found the nonstandard "anyways" a bit jarring especially since it was given the prestigious position of being the closing word. I would change that to "anyway" so that it doesn't distract the reader from the closing. Disclaimer: The preceding statement is just my opinion. |
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Elizabeth Cor Senior Member
since 2000-10-13
Posts 879Over the river and through the woods |
thank you for the input, Kirk.  |
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hush Senior Member
since 2001-05-27
Posts 1653Ohio, USA |
Your imagery and wording here are really excellent, especially the first few stanzas. "I understand her the way an outsider can Auschwitz," really wowed me, that's one hell of a slap in the face, it's just an excellent image... That sixth stanza, however, got me pretty confused... 'the way an outsider can Auschwitz, the rotting of AIDS in your own blood, or the cavity it creases along the eyes of a loved one as they shrink underneath your hands, to watch lesions appear and recede… fingerprints of a lingering, gluttonous death' does 'the rotting of AIDS...' refer to 'the way an outsider can,' or is it an image on its own? If it refers back, there is a clash between 'outsider' and 'your own blood,' and then I'm even more confused because in the next line, it seems that a relative has AIDS, not the 'you' of 'your own'... it just seems like you're going too many directions at once, and it really confused me... maybe it's just me... but then I thought this was going to be a poem about AIDS, with all the attention paid to it in that stanza, it took me a couple more stanzas to get out of that mindset... 'it all comes down to the matter of a man:' You had me behiind you here, yelling a full-strength "hell yeah!" Very aptly stated. I must say thought, that the end point of this isn't quite clear to me... I get the idea of a mother and daughter having similar misfortune with men, the daughter growing and healing from it, while her mother suffers more and more... some of the phrasing is confusing though, I mean, overall, I get a solid image, it's just that I had to read it two or three times to get that, because I get confused at serperate points, and had to peice it all together... maybe this could be made a little more cohesive by smoothing out transitions from different images (the AIDS thing) and focuses (From mother to daughter)... Sorry I'm not being more specific, but I find it hard to pinpoint the sources of confusion, it's more of an overall sense I get. Hope I've helped. BTW: upon posting this I took a second notice of the title, and realize that the confusions I mentioned might very well be completely intentional... Love is a ghost train rumblin' through the darkness... -Counting Crows [This message has been edited by hush (07-06-2002 11:05 PM).] |
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Skyfyre Senior Member
since 1999-08-15
Posts 1906Sitting in Michael's Lap |
Well, hello stranger. far past the corner of this horizon where stars are slipping under the solid lip of sky curved to earth it is three hours from this very moment Love this beginning; it has the comfortable feel of “once upon a time” without the gagging cliché. I do think that you could do away with that poor little “far” hanging up there all by himself, however. I understand her the way an outsider can Auschwitz, the rotting of AIDS in your own blood, or the cavity it creases along the eyes of a loved one as they shrink underneath your hands, to watch lesions appear and recede… fingerprints of a lingering, gluttonous death This is powerful. A bit more graphic than I would have chosen, but perhaps it was written for the shock value? from that distant ignorance there is a quiet pang YES! Perfect. grasping, in shadow, what is it like to need the presence of a man to emotional poverty eating first their affection but still starving … to cannibalize your own heart, and once gone, carve your mind out for sustenance, binge until the soul is hollow, the body locked behind the sallow walls of an institution Well done here, but “and once gone” is superfluous in my opinion. The uninterrupted flow of the “cannibalizing” and “carving” lines would make a bigger impact. making less money in a year than her daughter Why is this necessary? Money has nothing to do with anything here the length of one country used to cushion the sting of culpability Nice. … aspires to one day wake and meet in the mirror the eyes of a woman solid, and at peace with her choices: that stares her down without balking, or blinking with remorse, Like this; the preceding two stanzas were vaguely shaky but I have no suggestions for improvement. a person she can finally fully respect I think this is implied by everything leading up to it. Not sure if you need to state the obvious.  (this, I feel, is progress, delusion, perhaps, that permits me to stake faith in the idea that I am superior to her … and on an separate level, almost allows me identify with being a good person) Odd … the first time I read this, a few days ago, I associated the “her” with the “elusive ideal that will comfort and complete him.” Today as I read it, it refers to the mother. Intentional duplicity or am I smoking something? I was never very good at that anyway… Not a strong ending, but then the trailing off of a thought is apt in this case. PS: YOU WROTE “ANYWAYS???” For shame! =p |
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Not A Poet Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885Oklahoma, USA |
Hi Elizabeth, It's good to see you again. I think you already have enough good advice and I can't really add anything useful except maybe to say that I thoroughly enjoyed it. Thanks, Pete |
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WhiteRose Member Elite
since 2002-07-23
Posts 3208somebody's dungeon |
Very powerful. I enjoyed it for that reason. The imagery grabbed me immediately. It's definately one of the best I've read in here today. Bravo! |
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Trevor Senior Member
since 1999-08-12
Posts 700Canada |
Hello Elizabeth, Excellent poem, couldn't resist to critique it. "far past the corner of this horizon where stars are slipping under the solid lip of sky curved to earth it is three hours from this very moment and my mother is most likely sleeping, dreaming perhaps and not of lovely things" Wonderful beginning. Only suggestions I have are, fifth line - Consider rewording, think you could have it a bit smoother with something like, "of earth curved sky" etc, without losing meaning. Also consider chopping "and" off the last line above. Other than that I loved the poem, top notch stuff. Now my interpretation is that the a woman is coming to terms with her mother dying of AIDS and wrestling her own conflict that it causes not only with her mother but in her other personal relationships. Her mother is struggling with not only having the disease but also with the isolation that often accompanies AIDS. I also get the impression the mother contracted the disease through an affair or toleration of her husband having affairs...maybe even drugs but nonetheless like it was a preventable thing, hence the respect and culpability statement. This in turn also affects the daughter in the sense that she refuses to be like her mother,. Well that's what I got from it, and I must repeat how much I enjoyed this poem. Thanks for the great read, Trevor |
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Elizabeth Cor Senior Member
since 2000-10-13
Posts 879Over the river and through the woods |
okay, I just wrote an enormous reply... and the whole damn thing got erased... so, I am going to re-compose one... just letting ya'll know that it WAS here and vanished... in the meantime, thank you all... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
YOU KNOW--I never come here... BE IMPRESSED? (tell Nic I use me own oil) now, BE IMPRESSED? I melted slow with every word--but must confess? AFTER this? "to emotional poverty" (awesome btw) I felt an intellectualizing begin that distanced me from the true emotion...a little disconcerting for me, after being led there. And? I confess that I LIKED, no--LOVED THIS aspect, as the poem physically translated the stages of a psychological profile of (mother)/love. Y'lost me a bit at the end, perhaps because I lost my own way in the middle...now? I'm gonna get the hell outta here, before brad finds me and kicks me arse... ? |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
OH. Almost Forgot.  BRAD? NEENER NEENER NEENER.  |
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Elizabeth Cor Senior Member
since 2000-10-13
Posts 879Over the river and through the woods |
aww... karen! impressed? hell yes. and extremely flattered. *little squishy warm feelings, and a big ass smile* sigh. thank you so much, hon. loveyou. p.s. to everyone else, in my attempts to recompose what was lost, I just get frustrated trying to summon up the vanished words which were so much better than anything I'm able to write now... so it might be awhile lol... just know that you're appreciated in the meantime. please? |
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Trevor Senior Member
since 1999-08-12
Posts 700Canada |
Hiya Elizabeth, I had to re-read this poem, thought it was excellent. ANd I'm glad I did cause I finally get it...damn I'm slow sometimes. It's about a mother in an abusive relationship, crumbling down it dissolves and she is left with nothing, not even self esteem, this in turn affects the daughter who lets this destroy her relationships as well....until of course she catches herself and builds herself back up...because she has already lost a man she loved. That's at least is what my opinion is in a nutshell. I think my confusion came from misreading the AIDS part. So was I right about the poem? Anyways, I still enjoyed it the second time around, thanks for the read, Trevor |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
The only thing I'd lose is the parentheticals. If it's something that doesn't really need saying (in such a long poem as this), drop what's in 'em. Or just slice off the parentheses and brackets themselves. otherwise, this poem is too personal/intimate/intricate to do anything but nod at with mouth agape. Mr. Politics Said if I only could ... |
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RSWells Member Elite
since 2001-06-17
Posts 2533 |
Co-dependence, expectation, inheritance and madness. Insecurity, acceptance, experience and sadness. You reading my mind? "Happy people have no history" - French Proverb |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and just cause I like frosting on my cake. tired neener, brad..grin. |
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
I don't have time to amuse but want to pop up this up with Cpat Hair's poem. Does anybody else see the problem with this and the other? Both are potentially very powerful but meander. |
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Severn Member Rara Avis
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7704 |
Re: Cpat's post...  K |
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Essorant Member Elite
since 2002-08-10
Posts 4769Regina, Saskatchewan; Canada |
Brad Potentially is powerfully. [This message has been edited by Essorant (10-22-2003 08:51 PM).] |
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