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Critical Analysis #2
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Becoming Paris
| Critical Analysis #2 |
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Becoming Paris |
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IndigoEve Member
since 2003-01-10
Posts 279Etched in the illusion of time 
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You wonder why the cafés glow in lamplight, admonishing paper-strewn streets to affix themselves onto your soul, and forget how to be cobblestone for a day. Just one day, let lattes steam from coffeeshop windows unharmed. Waiting and pouring into my hands is the essence of French glory, wondrously corrupt by gratified bellies begging for more of Le Vrai's delicate pastries. Satiate, but leave the wine lingering on his fingers, intriguing- Parisian mottoes indeed are temptingly robust, teeming still in half-demure decencies. Blameless. Mais porquoi? We knew the answer long ago, before 1976, oh that timeless era! What an epiphany you were, of stories in taxis with the windows not too fogged.. the people of France, they knew. Suddenly, nights danced with the allure of daytime markets turned black. They once sold paperbacks here... We carved our names in their street corners, before autumn extended her hands little too long, to join what was once the chorus of seasons; winter was so unforgiving in that morbid song. All I ever knew was mochachinos and Hemmingway, and the occasional glance of Shakespeare's scoffing eye. Too soon, I whispered of the paper-strewn streets left deserted by the people of these Paris dreams. Nightmares streaming from the canopy of love gone awry, in painting Paris' portrait. She knew, more than her people, of me. Of my half French, half American words and that sweet café lamplight, breaking. Who would figure that souls could be traced within German poetry. I turned around one time, and suddenly I was seeking Paris no longer.. Paris was searching for me. If I were to touch you, would you bleed a velvet river, running miracles through the sodden ground? --Moi [This message has been edited by IndigoEve (11-06-2003 03:47 PM).] |
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b.costen Member
since 2003-11-02
Posts 107ontario, CAN |
OK, so. That was pretty damn good... I enjoyed such passages exceedingly as: "Suddenly, nights danced with the allure of daytime markets turned black." & "Who would figure that souls could be traced within German poetry." Of course I'm not a fan of purple, but then again. Who is (these days)? I was only wondering what your motivation was for writing this. I'm not sure if a motive is required for a poem, but if you had one, I'd like to know what it was. thanks huh ben so what's it going to be then, eh? |
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IndigoEve Member
since 2003-01-10
Posts 279Etched in the illusion of time |
My love for the poetic nature of Paris, perhaps.  Thanks for reviewing it (I was feeling a bit purple that day, more black now though  )If I were to touch you, would you bleed a velvet river, running miracles through the sodden ground? --Moi |
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Yejun Junior Member
since 2007-11-21
Posts 49 |
I think it needs an editor, but there is still something beautiful here and something that perhaps we need to see more of around these parts. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
This is lovely. It's a reverie of discovery and memory. It read very intimate to me, as if I were accompanying a friend on a trip home, listening to descriptions of what used to be, what remains, and the reluctant dismay of what is gone forever. The last line denotes "home". It's always said you can't go there again. This poem suggests beautifully that "home" is actually a place that never leaves you. A refreshing style for this poem--and I can't think of a thing, even as I went line by line that felt superfluous or contrived. Nicely done. |
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
quote: I was playing around with this one and ran out of time. |
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