Quincunx Posted April 22, 2003 Report Posted April 22, 2003 Satyrs I tried the parties, music, booze, and drugs And sweaty bodies snared in pheronomes. I tried the sex, oh how I tried the sex! You're getting poetic, must be really bad. Don't tell me, let me guess. You tried to remember someone's special info and forgot. A couple of times. They got hung up on me. People and their hangups. So now what do we do? Run like hell? Works for me. Satyrs run eternally.
Alaeha Posted April 22, 2003 Report Posted April 22, 2003 I like the last three lines particularly... Not the sort of thing I tend to read, but I'd say that you caught the "just for the moment" tendencies well... If that means anything to you. (If it doesn't, please unread it.)
Gwaihir Posted April 22, 2003 Report Posted April 22, 2003 The strong rhythm really supports the poem. The last line is absolutely perfect.
Peredhil Posted April 22, 2003 Report Posted April 22, 2003 Isnt it tragic being charismatic subservience becomes automatic How can an overseer be to blame When eager slaves look all the same. Who's to fault if they give without asking But eventually it becomes quite tasking...
Quincunx Posted December 28, 2003 Author Report Posted December 28, 2003 Identity A flossy mess of thoughts Caught on a phrase or word so cruelly burred. The skein of thought was spurred. . . A single skein was made with pain-- made separate from the whole.
Wyvern Posted December 31, 2003 Report Posted December 31, 2003 Great depiction of the writing process, and how only a piece of the spectrum of a writer's thoughts can ever be condensed into words. The word choice was excellent throughout, and I particularly liked how the poem seemed to flow and rhyme more as it progressed until the last line, where the structure was completely cut off. I thought that this abrupt change in the last line accentuated the notion of being "separate from the whole" nicely. I also thought the way that the process of condensing and refining was referred to as something cruel was intriguing. It gave the piece a very negative tone, and portrayed the art of refining thoughts as more of an obstacle than a utility. It's kind of interesting to compare this poem to Yui's "These Words" in this sense, since the two poems deal with very different aspects of a similar subject. Finally, the title "Identity" seemed to add another layer of meaning to the poem, since people ultimately portray themselves to one another through this process of refining thoughts, whether it be through writing or dialogue. In that sense, the poem speaks to the notion of never being able to fully display one's personality in writing, or in any other form of communication for that matter. Anyhow, apologies for the interpretative analysis (I've been trying to stick to structural these days ;-p). One thing I really like about your poems in general is that they always get me seriously thinking, hence this semi-coherent collection of thoughts. Good stuff fo' sho'. ;-)
Quincunx Posted July 7, 2004 Author Report Posted July 7, 2004 Wine Me, Dine Me. . . (dedicated to Death Rock) I took him to a restaurant with atmosphere to spare, I could've had a better time by watching passing air, His hands were big as dinner plates, he ate the portions whole, He looked me in the eye and grumbled "babe, this place's a hole." The waiter tiptoed with dessert, I swore that I would pass, But he kicked over the table, put those hands upon my ass, He grabbed a slice of chocolate mousse and shoved it in his face, He looked me in the eye and rumbled "babe, i hate this place." I tasted musk and chocolate as we kissed to stop the sea, He tossed me on the table and we shattered crockery, I went straight for his denims and I heard the zipper go, He looked me in the eye and told me-- you don't need to know!
Peredhil Posted July 20, 2004 Report Posted July 20, 2004 I took something utterly different away from Identity. And I laughed myself sick at the wry humor of Wine me, Dine me. To quote the Gwen Harrison character in the 2001 America's Sweethearts - Well, nevermind. But this reminded me of her line to her sister.
Ayshela Posted July 20, 2004 Report Posted July 20, 2004 oh! Funny, i'd swear i'd posted a response to "Identity".. but, agreed, i took something totally different away from that as well, along with a wry smile and deep admiration of the elegant description. "Wine me, Dine me" *laughs* absolutely beautiful!
Quincunx Posted July 3, 2005 Author Report Posted July 3, 2005 Us Why aren't we content with what we have? Why do we humans stew? Keep a sprig of hell in your pocket and hell won't come to you.
Quincunx Posted March 20, 2008 Author Report Posted March 20, 2008 God hates bellies with dewlaps, flaps without flesh, aging cobwebs, candles furred with dust, and glissande laughter dripping from the fallen cup.
Quincunx Posted August 8, 2009 Author Report Posted August 8, 2009 Tap The metronome will now outrun the pendulum The left hand fondle the right, backs slithering, warm The metronome will now outthrum the pendulum The tapes will tighten, skein of skin will tauten the pawn The metronome will now outgun the pendulum
Recommended Posts