Hi Jack,
This was a compelling read. I'll give you some suggestions for your consideration:
Thanks.
Best,
Todd
This was a compelling read. I'll give you some suggestions for your consideration:
(07-08-2011, 10:50 AM)Heslopian Wrote: Of course there are those who complain about God.--I'd be tempted to break this line after complain and move about God down to start L2Thought-provoking cool read.
Sitting on his throne of faith,
his castles built with devotion,--is his needed?
Stockholm syndrome's spirit strain,--nice comparison
he watches like a movie-goer--this movie-goer as if god is jaded to the suffering is one of the best ideas in the poem
each atrocity. This poem was cliché
from its conception. I've seen it told so many ways,--I'd be tempted to cut "I've seen it told in so many ways" and moving the form you've started in the line already. It would require some minor tweaks.
(Example)from it's conception from Anne Sexton
bemoaning the Jew's holocaut
from Graham Greene...
Anne Sexton bemoaning the Jew's holocaust,
Graham Greene turning a young socialite
into a martyr in The End of the Affair.--beautiful ideas here. Though you may want to consider substituting Sexton for Schiendler's list or some such movie to build on the movie goer image
What more can I say? I give you images instead,
brutality for arguments. Strike God down,--love theese two lines
rip out his spleen, paint HATE on the cosmos
with his intestines. Slice his genitals in twain--don't think you need in twain
and see the seed which bore his son--great line but please consider pulling "rot" up to end it
rot among the dying stars. Feast on his organs,
spread over our plains, his heart attracting flies
in an African town where bony orphans dine for days.--Jack it's not that I dislike your final two lines but I would consider ending on this image. If there is a powerful loving god then why is this suffering allowed. This is more of a punch to the reader. I would end it here.
This is my vision, a God torn apart,
not discussed but ripped open.
Thanks.
Best,
Todd
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
