Crystal Time Machine

[nibbed]

Hi, Chels. I'll be as honest as I can. My thoughts of this poem weren't involving a typical time machine. The facets of the poem forced my imagination to travel places for which it was not intended. Each read through caused a different illustration, reaction, morphing and changing to a clearer picture. Not perfect, either. The best way I can describe it? I somehow felt like that sparrow I saw once on River St. who survived a ride through a radiator fan and was flung out onto the hot pavement. I still wonder how he is, did he recover? Was he able to preen those ruffled feathers? Would his eyeballs ever be uncrossed? So, as tribute to the sparrow, I must critique:




Revision 1
Crystal columns stand reliably stationed                                             
as their sharply-cut facets glimmer in hasten,                        I understand why you chose *hasten. Its impression is more secure, "waiting"
scattering recollects into mind, of whats been,                      might indicate the possibility of displeasure. Perhaps *scattering needs an
and should be.                                                                      adjective to assure the reader that it is unwanted.
                                                                                           
This cage - gives illusion of space and light,                            
but exacts entrapment of days.                                            At first I thought this was an implication the narrator was imprisoned
Which shade will shine in,                                                      
only to glint back out?

Pressed face against
light-infused, glossy and glinting rails,                                     
permeable eyes peering through;                                        *permeable, good description
her entranced form pulls away.                                             why is she "entranced", wouldn't "dazed" or..."jinxed" be more suitable, anything
Raise of brow, knowingly,                                                      but Disney, please.
bow of chin, solidly.
She pilfers their thought, concretely:                                     

“You see my asking eyes.“                                                    troubling. mysterious. questioning.

Those azure spheres used to contain and restrain, 
used to hide some that abides.
This time as two trailing Beryl rockets, undocked.                  Okay, love the use of Beryl. Why is it neglected so in poetry? Undocked, cute.

Still, her mortal immured. Glass gridlock.                                 
More still, a beautiful construct. 
Even yet, who is the architect?                                             Sad to question it.  Architect deserves capitalization.

Regret is so damn delicate.                                                    why not *damn = damned, lest it be that deliberate imperfection?
Free to step forward,
not back?

Transparent bars,                                                                  
prove most jailing.
Even more revealing.                                                            reflection here, I like that.

Solid structures,
prove most trying.
Even more instructing.                                                         *Instructing. Somehow I read the word "insulting" here.

Bolt, screw, sprocket and wheel,     
a grease marked mechanic 
welds her own epochs real. 
For someone else.                                                                 I suggest capitalization on this pronoun.

Wished for machines                                                             Detesting the word machines used anywhere in this piece.
do sound supreme,
but toil our being
when no longer a dream.  

If she can shatter a way out,                                                
sound the pitch of more pain,
why not shatter what’s come about,                                      pierce the pitch/pound the timbre
drown the timbre of sorrowful, dried rain? 

((( OR, instead of the above stanza:

If she can shatter her way out,
Rev the engines of pain                                                           Might I suggest: change *If to *When                                                        
Why not shatter whats come about,                                       I like better: her engines of pain
filter the smog from revving in vain?                                        I detect the word refrain in this stanza

A better fit with the theme? )))                                              

Her glazed blues fathom its beauty,                                          I would make her eyes grey now, the rocket's fizzled out.
though fantasizing ears hear a smash.                                     
Really, she had a golden ticket;                                               *golden, meh. cliche. "she had alchemy's ticket" fits much better here.
but this one way crystal time machine,
is not solely hers to crash.                                                        Can the word *machine PLEASE be replaced?


                                                                                               
                                                                                                >< Best wishes. Thank you for the privilege of critique.