10-05-2017, 11:28 AM
I guess Asclepius is owed a cock,
whatever that means.-------- Had to look that reference up, but now that I get it I like it for an opening
The philosopher who said it,
said it with a finger propped
on how we can be green because
our souls forget things like
an apple's sopping crunch, to Crito--
who is clinging to his pendent thigh. ------- I'm reminded of the Crito dialogue, where Crito tries to convince Socrates to escape his death sentence, I think a word like tugging might serve you better here, just a thought though
His other leg is placed upon
the makeshift lectern of a mattress,
protruding from his drapery
like morning light would mutely break
through dusty curtains into bed,
glowing like his chest.------------------- Glowing across his chest possibly?
I envy just how sure he is; ------- I can relate to that line
reaching for the hemlock
as if it was a glass of wine, ------- as if it were?
as if the executioner
was nothing but a cupbearer
who cannot even bear to watch ---------- who could not watch, not sure about the repetition of bear there
and death was just a drunken dream.
In this final lecture,
the apotheosis of opinion
seemed too much for Apollodorus,
who grinds his brow
against stone, Xanthippe,
who grieves just past the hall,
and his swooning students,
who curl and twist
like autumn leaves in a burn pile.
Except for one
who seems a little older,
and isn't dressed in autumn colors,
and shouldn't be where he is seated-
unless the stories of his master's death
manifested into strapping colors
strong enough to lift their limbs
from the canvas, contradicting
his teachings of ideal and phenomena.--------- I might use Form and Appearance here personally its a little more in Plato's language... This stanza is close, but since Plato's writings predate the painting I would consider changing it to a projection or something like that into the room or onto the canvas, rather than limbs lifted from it
The man was Plato, and I bet he knew
what his teacher meant
by owing some medicine god a cock
when his spine was tied to
a dumbbell of decrepitude.
I'll know too --------------- This line might make a good ending really. It hits harder for me that way I think, the thought of impending aging and death
--right now, I don't--
nor would I intend to.
I'll have to come back and read this in a couple of days. Definitely a lot going on here. I like how you withhold the first person perspective until the very end though, it gives the poem a final tonal shift that puts it over the top.
whatever that means.-------- Had to look that reference up, but now that I get it I like it for an opening
The philosopher who said it,
said it with a finger propped
on how we can be green because
our souls forget things like
an apple's sopping crunch, to Crito--
who is clinging to his pendent thigh. ------- I'm reminded of the Crito dialogue, where Crito tries to convince Socrates to escape his death sentence, I think a word like tugging might serve you better here, just a thought though
His other leg is placed upon
the makeshift lectern of a mattress,
protruding from his drapery
like morning light would mutely break
through dusty curtains into bed,
glowing like his chest.------------------- Glowing across his chest possibly?
I envy just how sure he is; ------- I can relate to that line
reaching for the hemlock
as if it was a glass of wine, ------- as if it were?
as if the executioner
was nothing but a cupbearer
who cannot even bear to watch ---------- who could not watch, not sure about the repetition of bear there
and death was just a drunken dream.
In this final lecture,
the apotheosis of opinion
seemed too much for Apollodorus,
who grinds his brow
against stone, Xanthippe,
who grieves just past the hall,
and his swooning students,
who curl and twist
like autumn leaves in a burn pile.
Except for one
who seems a little older,
and isn't dressed in autumn colors,
and shouldn't be where he is seated-
unless the stories of his master's death
manifested into strapping colors
strong enough to lift their limbs
from the canvas, contradicting
his teachings of ideal and phenomena.--------- I might use Form and Appearance here personally its a little more in Plato's language... This stanza is close, but since Plato's writings predate the painting I would consider changing it to a projection or something like that into the room or onto the canvas, rather than limbs lifted from it
The man was Plato, and I bet he knew
what his teacher meant
by owing some medicine god a cock
when his spine was tied to
a dumbbell of decrepitude.
I'll know too --------------- This line might make a good ending really. It hits harder for me that way I think, the thought of impending aging and death
--right now, I don't--
nor would I intend to.
I'll have to come back and read this in a couple of days. Definitely a lot going on here. I like how you withhold the first person perspective until the very end though, it gives the poem a final tonal shift that puts it over the top.