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Critical Analysis #2
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The Open Mouth Of My Youth
| Critical Analysis #2 |
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The Open Mouth Of My Youth |
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b.costen Member
since 2003-11-02
Posts 107ontario, CAN |
i was on the beach my mom said i swallowed the beach as a child and brought my brother’s skull ear to ear and seashelled the sound of the sand dirt between my teeth grit and grind in my head in my ears the type of sound where you block off your sinuses and the only sound you listen for is the sound of yourself everything becomes like a tub a breath is a scuba suck a big toe is an indian drum a glass set down is a clank on the soul —this brother’s shell a simple human skull gives me wind of his inner voice and i swallow it hole i was on the beach mom said i swallowed the beach i dug an arm out of my ribcage and drummed to the seashell swish of my empty skull yellowed by sand and sun dusty with the specks of dry cells |
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| © Copyright 2005 ben costen - All Rights Reserved | |||
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davidmerriman Member
since 2003-04-30
Posts 123Dallas, TX |
i really like it. surrealistic realism. |
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b.costen Member
since 2003-11-02
Posts 107ontario, CAN |
thank you sir so what's it going to be then, eh? |
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netsky Member
since 2005-03-29
Posts 148Miami |
First, quick read. this is original in form and texture to me.. it's surreeal, yes, in some ways. I think that I see some message peeking through (I do) In fact, the savor of the poem makes good readings and stimulates my imagination, too. I can't yet crit the poem; must let it distill in me for a while. I can say this: odd poems with kindly intent grab me by the collar. This is one such poem. Grit crunch good, prodigal boy. So, is a good read. I shall return to this and -add crit- if I can find anything to complain or explain about. thanks, reid |
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b.costen Member
since 2003-11-02
Posts 107ontario, CAN |
thanks Reid, please don't hesitate to complain; i've also posted some new stuff just today--hope you enjoy so what's it going to be then, eh? |
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netsky Member
since 2005-03-29
Posts 148Miami |
back to this poem... I'm mused by your keen abstractions. I'll jest or -ask- between your lines: === i was on the beach my mom said i swallowed the beach as a child and brought my brother’s skull ear to ear and seashelled the sound of the sand *true grit/crunch. Mom is bemused that you were never becalmed as a child* dirt between my teeth grit and grind in my head in my ears the type of sound where you block off your sinuses *eustachian tubes when blocked are the cause of that watery drum sound* and the only sound you listen for is the sound of yourself *keen, good* everything becomes like a tub a breath is a scuba suck *good again* a big toe is an indian drum *toe? tow? undertoe? toto run! this is just plain silly metaphor, but cute and in keeping with much to come* a glass set down is a clank on the soul —this brother’s shell a simple human skull gives me wind of his inner voice and i swallow it hole *hole.. empty skull... whole... is a pun... OK* i was on the beach mom said i swallowed the beach *nice place in the poem for reiteration* i dug an arm out of my ribcage and drummed to the seashell swish of my empty skull *now, it's -your- empty skull? Yo-kayyy* yellowed by sand and sun *OH, future view of a hearing* dusty with the specks of dry cells *going to dust and dirt and grit, all of us. a fine finish* ==did I get the gist well enough? |
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b.costen Member
since 2003-11-02
Posts 107ontario, CAN |
netsky looking now at this and all of your invested feedback it means a lot to me that you cared enough to give me feedback of such high quality. i hope all is well with you. |
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