We're All Born Knowing All (edit)

[tectak]

best,
t3ctak

I


Dogs go to heaven,
the preacher must’ve forgot
when he told you otherwise. OK. I see where this is going but have no idea where you start from or how you will progress it. What is this opening conundrum written in reverse boolean logic all about?
I could not fail to disagree with it less. Huh?

The words burnWhat words and why and how? I do not ask for myself, you understand...but for others.


a year laterObtuse. A year later than dog's went to heaven....or the preacher went senile....or the words spontaneously combusted. It is a worry....
when a boy misses the bus stop
but catches a noose.Enough already. So many questions...how do you miss a bus stop? Is the catching of a noose the ONLY alternative...the "but" implies it is a common event. I forgot to buy the cabbage BUT I did get an electric screwdriver. Nope. This is not getting through my poetic epidermial barrier. Lost on me.


Did the clergyman not recognizeWhat is with this negative option? Did the clergyman RECOGNIZE the napalm in his breath...aw, the hell with it. Way too obscure for a simple crit...who he? What napalm? In or on his breath? Lay a voice???
the napalm in his breath
when he laid his voice on you—
your own hands can only bring you hell. You cannot increase weight by italics. You can IMPLY that what is IN italics is outside the character cast and so is to be read in a supplementary way. But WHO said it? 


The world burnsNo. Cliches never work, especially when they are too late and misplaced. This is a device gone wrong.


before it is the worldUnrelated "it". Find another way... use BETTER words
and after.


II


Ten thousand years preceding
the original poodle
man steps out of the light
and into his head, 
shutting the blinds. You (the character, of course) are now drunk or wrecked and even if I am wrong you have forgotten...if you ever knew...what the poem is about. This stanza needs punctuating to clarity then put back in to the poem which it came from originally. It seems out of place here.


He didn’t recognize God’s faceWho he? You never say.
in the plateau he pummeled
into jagged nothin’
calling that carcass, first temple.Gobbledygook masquerading as deep thought.
                                  
Every moment is a revelation
to a mutt eating biscuits. If you are REALLY going to workshop this, delete everything but the last two lines. They stand alone and make a cute point as in the kingdom of the blind the one-eyed man...blah...blah...or any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. You are not to be blamed for attempting to get across some salient and/or personally held opinion in your work BUT you do yourself a great disservice by leaving the thing open to the ignorance of crits like me. I just do not have the processes in place to interpret as well as to enjoy this kind of self-indulgence. I genuinely hope that you had great pleasure in writing it but for me, perhaps wrongly, the pleasure in poetry is 90% in the reading and 10% in the writing. Here, I suspect, it is the other way round.

Hi make,
well, this a  car crash and no mistake. If you genuinely intend workshopping this you need to take a long, cold look at the piece and ask yourself one question...could I make it clearer? I am not given to guessing what the hell some esoteric, personal or obtuse poetry is about because it wastes my time in speculation and whatever crit is made on content slides in to subjectivity...so...before spending time on a line by line I will give you time to respond the the two other crits. I do this in the spirit  of the forum....my crit right now is that what you have written here requires a Turing test.
Best,
tectak

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