04-30-2015, 02:28 AM
Todd – I went through, looking for a poem of yours to comment on because you so generously helped me with mine (not that I’ll be any help to you, as your writing and powers of observation are keen and precise). But I’ll try to at least offer up what I take away from your poem.
In the beginning was the word,
and the word was not the number. (Since you switch from “the” throughout the poem, could you use “a number” or “numbers” here?)
The tree was also not a tree
with fruit blossoming
in metaphor. This was the way
of the word. It craved nuance.
The sun was light, and chariot, and unfolding flower, (see, here you could use “the light.” I’m unclear how chariot and flower are metaphors for the sun - light and spark, I get)
a spark blown from the lips of God.
The distant moon, a veiled woman dancing
from her husband. (“from” or “with”? “From” implies a lot and we ask ourselves why? Were the moon and sun ever together enough to part?)
The animals would speak their names (whose names? – sun and moon I presume, otherwise use “own names ”)
to rejoice in each syllable (“and” rejoice?)
Giraffe was like the brook's happy gurgle. (but the animals are speaking the names – now the word “giraffe” is coming from the brook)
Snake was as shadows at dusk. (this stanza is a bit confusing because it goes from speaking actual names to metaphor in the last line)
Sin had not been defined. (yes)
The world was without census.
Or in the beginning was the null set. (do you need “or”?)
Creation an equation
solved in 518,400 seconds
consisting of 332 perfect variables.
There was one then two,
addition became multiplication, (nice)
until the day of the first subtraction; (is this about Cain and Abel – first death?)
when an asset was marked
as a liability in the Holy Ledger.
Sin was a tally beyond counting. [b](nice)
The number can neither love
nor hate the word. (nice)
The word cannot abide the number.
They are parallel lines,
of orthodoxy and heresy (do you need this line? I’m not sure this is true. Sin is sin and everyone does it.)
stretching beyond the call
of the final trumpet.
World without end. (I love this)
Q.E.D.
In the beginning was the word,
and the word was not the number. (Since you switch from “the” throughout the poem, could you use “a number” or “numbers” here?)
The tree was also not a tree
with fruit blossoming
in metaphor. This was the way
of the word. It craved nuance.
The sun was light, and chariot, and unfolding flower, (see, here you could use “the light.” I’m unclear how chariot and flower are metaphors for the sun - light and spark, I get)
a spark blown from the lips of God.
The distant moon, a veiled woman dancing
from her husband. (“from” or “with”? “From” implies a lot and we ask ourselves why? Were the moon and sun ever together enough to part?)
The animals would speak their names (whose names? – sun and moon I presume, otherwise use “own names ”)
to rejoice in each syllable (“and” rejoice?)
Giraffe was like the brook's happy gurgle. (but the animals are speaking the names – now the word “giraffe” is coming from the brook)
Snake was as shadows at dusk. (this stanza is a bit confusing because it goes from speaking actual names to metaphor in the last line)
Sin had not been defined. (yes)
The world was without census.
Or in the beginning was the null set. (do you need “or”?)
Creation an equation
solved in 518,400 seconds
consisting of 332 perfect variables.
There was one then two,
addition became multiplication, (nice)
until the day of the first subtraction; (is this about Cain and Abel – first death?)
when an asset was marked
as a liability in the Holy Ledger.
Sin was a tally beyond counting. [b](nice)
The number can neither love
nor hate the word. (nice)
The word cannot abide the number.
They are parallel lines,
of orthodoxy and heresy (do you need this line? I’m not sure this is true. Sin is sin and everyone does it.)
stretching beyond the call
of the final trumpet.
World without end. (I love this)
Q.E.D.