Muninn REV 11-25-12

[billy]

(Revised from the Poetry Practice)
~~~
The world did not start in steps of ice.
I remember the long night,
as a pin prick of fire, that didn’t cease
burning in an ever expanding corkscrew:
You were not there.

I am the grift behind your secret
omniscience, the truth
of your ruined face, this pretension
and prayer, the ego of godhead:
questions that never had answers. [feels a little cliché]

Joined in this unkindness,
I have tasted the slave song,
grasped the limp hand of the stillborn.
Yet, my words are not flint to strike sparks [i love these two line but i struggle]
against the hanged god’s ear. [with hanged god, i don't no of one, i do understand you mean christ (i think) but he wasn't hung as such he was nailed]

So like murder: a black flutter,
tiny footsteps of regret.
There is an eye under the water
that I would pluck out
to avoid this pointless journey. [for me this stanza feels a little vague. reads really good but feels vague, could just be me though]

I see your excitement and can only
echo it. The buildings rise
and fall. The stories drone
around your unlit hearth of tradition—
kindling from the damned tree. [i love this stanza. though wonder if a play on words might work;
kindling from the tree; damned]

You look to the stars. [feels cliche]
Yet, I am the answer to all these prayers. [what prayers?]
Your son will die. All dreams burn:
I alone remain
to stir the ashes.[are the last two lines needed?]

i enjoyed the poem and
the pace of it. it did show that rules can sometimes hinder a poem. this is much better, some good images and well worth the read. the first three stanza worked well and i could see little that for me was in need of an edit in them.jmo

thanks for the read