poetry critical

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a la T.S. Eliot

Pardon me, let me pass,
let me pass like a moment.
Like a memory recalled by one and
forgotten by another.
My rhythm has left me,
like a finger slips on some rehearsed instrument.
The slip of a tongue,
too quick to curse with the fall of a glass.
They tell stories while I sleep,
hovering over my body.
"How wise she was, and so beautiful."
As my consciousness wavers, they must say,
"Shall we leave before she wakes?"
I led a life of chance some have whispered,
of pure luck.
A modern day Esther,
with proposals based on beauty.
Oh, beauty fades you fools,
and so have I.
Oh Lord, oh Lord,
take me now like Macbeth.
In the quiet of the night,
with the sound of a bell.
But no, all earth will not be distraught,
not a horse eating another.
I will go as Hephaestus,
thrown from my throne.
Paralyzed now for who I have become.
For whom I am.

29 Oct 06

Rated 10 (10) by 2 users.
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Inactive (2): 8, 10, 10, 10

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I have nothing bad to say about this poem.
 — newslang5

the idea behind this poem is immature, childish, and vain
l10-12, l19-20, and l29-30 show a most unpleasant egocentricity in your writing
possibly the biblical Esther is not the most fruitful feminine personality to allude to here, as here story ends in victory, not in downfall

on the other hand, yes, i can see Eliot in the writing and i like that, such as in l1-2
l6-7 is rather enjoyable and cleaver
'wavers' and 'hovering' go nicely together in stanza 3
 — unknown

Mrs. Prufrock did well here
 — fireballems

pardonnez-mois, es-ce le chattanooga choo-choo? "like finger slips on some rehearsed instru..." -- maybe "glides" or "slides"? then "slips" wouldn't be so obvious, cause the people who visualize will see the slide and see how a slip of tongue is "like a sliding of concepts" and that will keep it in the underwourld of dream and poem.

kind of a donkey-ride rhythm, but it's supposed to be a scenic ride i suppose. some of the lines just seem overly long, without really saying anything more than "fill out the line". that's a melody thing though and very personal. harmony of concept and word is more what a poem's about though -- it's not really a song -- and genius -- well, genius makes shortcuts, sees things quickly -- lets the reader make the leap.
 — joey

 — alambre