Poetry Forum

Chasing for something that never belonged to me,
my mother taught me better than that; I once cared
about women, around the same time that I wished
I was a better person. Now I am unapologetic
for my institutionalised thoughts, for my forbidden touches,
for the sabbatical frustrations. A former role model of mine,
Isaiah, still recites fire to me (in my sleep) once his visions
showed him that my blood had turned antarctic. My ancestors,
from the water; my mother, my mortal rock. I have never forgotten
where I come from - the dark heart of Africa: The perceptions
of a changed man beating to the sounds of a strange voice
at the proverbial crossroads. I watch myself from the astral,
helpless (much like my sister, schizophrenic - much like my brother
may the Lord forever rest his soul...) I will distance myself, there is no
further fear within my spirit. I am a renaissance man, in the flesh;
there’s no “Fred” without such foundations: The origins
of the unrapturable - “Such a reality doesn’t belong, my beloved”.

I was following it until the last two lines - I don't understand the 'Fred' or why you should be unrapturable. I also found the idea of a reality 'belonging' strange - existing, perhaps, but where would reality belong?

Strange and interesting, though.

I believe you owe a few crits?

Ros

Seems very prosy to me, I'm not seeing the poetry in this. And the subject is pretty introspective. I mean nothing in particular seems to happen or have happened; it just seems like someone putting themselves on the analyst's couch late one sleepless night. I think you need to choose 1-3 specific things you want to say about (presumably) yourself and find an interesting narrative to hang them on that engages the reader. Sorry I can't be more enthusiastic.

Ros wrote:I was following it until the last two lines - I don't understand the 'Fred' or why you should be unrapturable. I also found the idea of a reality 'belonging' strange - existing, perhaps, but where would reality belong?

Strange and interesting, though.

I believe you owe a few crits?

Ros

Those two lines are stating that he (Fred) comes from an unrapturable origin. In other words, he comes from a bloodline that he deems to be unredeemable, once Jesus appears again.

"Such a reality doesn't belong [to you]" is what the final line is saying - basically, his self-conscious/inner-spirit is telling him that the reality that has grown to know doesn't dictate his destiny; it isn't a reality that he should honour.

I will crit some poems once I have more time.

k-j wrote:Seems very prosy to me, I'm not seeing the poetry in this. And the subject is pretty introspective. I mean nothing in particular seems to happen or have happened; it just seems like someone putting themselves on the analyst's couch late one sleepless night. I think you need to choose 1-3 specific things you want to say about (presumably) yourself and find an interesting narrative to hang them on that engages the reader. Sorry I can't be more enthusiastic.

It's definitely a poem.

Hi Mul,

To me this piece reads like notes for a poem. If you take the central premise and build upon it with some tangible imagery
a poem of worth could well emerge.

Best

JJ

JJWilliamson wrote:Hi Mul,

To me this piece reads like notes for a poem. If you take the central premise and build upon it with some tangible imagery
a poem of worth could well emerge.

Best

JJ

I, purposely, didn't go for tangible imagery (if, by 'tangible', you mean 'relatable').

So be it.

I was using tangible imagery in the context of palpable or real, essentially visual images to demonstrate an emotion/emotions.
I was concerned that the readership would struggle to connect with the speakers perspective without having something to hang
their hat on. You don't have to adopt an imagist style, indeed you don't have to do anything (it's your poem). I was merely suggesting
you broaden the poem's potential with an image or two.

Best

JJ

Mulbery wrote:
I will crit some poems once I have more time.

Meanwhile, you’ll expect others to find time to crit yours.

Mulbery wrote: It's definitely a poem.

Ah. So that’s that, then. Glad you told me, before I bothered to read it and form a view.

Arian wrote: Meanwhile, you’ll expect others to find time to crit yours.

Until two weeks ago, I hadn't posted here in over two years. I just wanted to share my work, doesn't mean I expect anyone to critique it.

Mulbery wrote: Ah. So that’s that, then. Glad you told me, before I bothered to read it and form a view.

I wouldn't have posted it here if it wasn't a poem...

Fair enough. Good luck with it.