Patet exposita ad oculos…edit 1 brownlie, billy et moi

[tectak]

Verse 1. Religious images as Aide-Memoires

Devotions clasped in fingers waxed by molten Mary Magdelenes;
incensed, she curls the smoke about. From the closet, Proust shouts out;
all splendid clad, in golden garbs shrunk tight as skin
by hot red rodding rain.

Verse 2. The Consequent Surreality of Faith

Skies slide by, shriven; crackling crisp and blowing dry
as Satan's breath. Neath burning blasts her blisters burst
and ooze out holy spirit from the still and torpid vestments that
her God made fleeting flesh.

Verse 3. The Afterlife as an Acceptable Living Belief

The bulging bag of jagged bones jangles in a silent song where none
who hear have air to breathe or ears to sense the coming storm;
though flashed by fiery foment, fury stirs but aether, cold and thin.
None feel the changing wind.

Verse 4. The Obvious nature of Truth

Moments pass in unremembered aeons, while tuneless trumpets blare away
her faith that once was safe. Harboured in her Bundled His, pulsing with
unskinned and hollow drums, she watched hot running rivulets return
to pool in cooling seas..

and yet the sea, it is not full.
(Ecclesiastes Ch.1, v.7)

tectak
Organic verse based upon the futility of faith seen as a commentary upon the bleedin’ obvious. All the rivers run in to the sea…and yet the sea, it is not full.
For Erthona(RIP)

[Brownlie]

I think it's spelled Mary Magdalene.

[tectak]

I think it's spelled Mary Magdalene.

Nope. You missed it It is a pun on the well known Proustian Madeleine Moment....now a biscuit. One is a Magdalene...two are Magdelenes. Tourist candles on sale in Venice. Irreverant imagery. Not very good , obviously I told you'd regret getting involved!
Best,
tectak.
One down!

[Brownlie]

Interesting, to be frank with you I'm still not sure what I'm involved in.

[tectak]

Interesting, to be frank with you I'm still not sure what I'm involved in.

Jolly good....nor am I

[serge gurkski]

(Seulement entre parentheses:
No time right now and maybe not qualified enough to critique, but : the style reminds me a lot of G. M. Hopkins. ,-)
Content: reads like a parody ( mocking) of said. Enjoyed it. ;-) )

[billy]

i have no idea what the title means i enjoyed it but theres a glut of alliteration in there. while the sub headings broke and ordered the stanzas they mainly did play any part of the poem form me, as the like The Consequent Surreality of Faith....automatically press my fuck this for a lark button good narrative but felt a bit too clever. can you start a thread about Erthona maybe (in a discussion forum or the pig's arse, he'd like that (what happened? ))

Verse 1. Religious images as Aide Memoirs why not leave a line spacing under the sub headings?
Devotions clasped in fingers waxed by molten Mary Magdelenes;
incensed, she curls the smoke about as Proust shouts out,
all splendid clad, in golden garbs shrunk taught as skin
by iron-red rodding rain. i think some of the punctuation needs working on though i don't know where

Verse 2. The Consequent Surreality of Faith
Skies slide by, shriven; crackling crisp and blowing dry nice c's and s's the words are popping in this line.
as Satan's breath. Neath burning blast her blisters burst why the period and cap? the neath burni...(the rest of the line) sounds wrong, should it be blasts?
and ooze out holy spirit from the still and torpid vestments that
her God made fleeting flesh.

Verse 3. The Afterlife as an Acceptable Living Belief
The bulging bag of jagged bones jangles in a silent song where none strong j sounds, but from the rest of the poem beginning to think that alliteration is being overly utilised.
who hear have air to breathe or ears to sense the coming storm;
though flashed by fiery foment, fury stirs but aether, cold and thin.
None feel the changing wind.

Verse 4. The Obvious nature of Truth
Moments pass in unremembered aeons, while tuneless trumpets blare away
her faith that once was safe. Harboured in her Bundled His, pulsing with
unskinned and hollow drums, she watched hot running rivulets return
to pool in cooling seas..

and yet the sea, it is not full.
(Ecclesiastes Ch.1, v.7)

tectak
Organic verse based upon the futility of faith seen as a commentary upon the bleedin’ obvious. All the rivers run in to the sea…and yet the sea, it is not full.
For Erthona(RIP)

[tectak]

i have no idea what the title means i enjoyed it but theres a glut of alliteration in there. while the sub headings broke and ordered the stanzas they mainly did play any part of the poem form me, as the like The Consequent Surreality of Faith....automatically press my fuck this for a lark button good narrative but felt a bit too clever. can you start a thread about Erthona maybe (in a discussion forum or the pig's arse, he'd like that (what happened? ))

Verse 1. Religious images as Aide Memoirs why not leave a line spacing under the sub headings?
Devotions clasped in fingers waxed by molten Mary Magdelenes;
incensed, she curls the smoke about as Proust shouts out,
all splendid clad, in golden garbs shrunk taught as skin
by iron-red rodding rain. i think some of the punctuation needs working on though i don't know where

Verse 2. The Consequent Surreality of Faith
Skies slide by, shriven; crackling crisp and blowing dry nice c's and s's the words are popping in this line.
as Satan's breath. Neath burning blast her blisters burst why the period and cap? the neath burni...(the rest of the line) sounds wrong, should it be blasts?
and ooze out holy spirit from the still and torpid vestments that
her God made fleeting flesh.

Verse 3. The Afterlife as an Acceptable Living Belief
The bulging bag of jagged bones jangles in a silent song where none strong j sounds, but from the rest of the poem beginning to think that alliteration is being overly utilised.
who hear have air to breathe or ears to sense the coming storm;
though flashed by fiery foment, fury stirs but aether, cold and thin.
None feel the changing wind.

Verse 4. The Obvious nature of Truth
Moments pass in unremembered aeons, while tuneless trumpets blare away
her faith that once was safe. Harboured in her Bundled His, pulsing with
unskinned and hollow drums, she watched hot running rivulets return
to pool in cooling seas..

and yet the sea, it is not full.
(Ecclesiastes Ch.1, v.7)

tectak
Organic verse based upon the futility of faith seen as a commentary upon the bleedin’ obvious. All the rivers run in to the sea…and yet the sea, it is not full.
For Erthona(RIP)

Hi billy,
In order. You observed keenly the Fuck this for a Lark. More in a coming discussion thread.
blast or blasts. It matters not to me...but why to you? Oh. I get'cha!
Yes. You wanted " Neath the burning blast" or "Neath burning blasts". Yep. I think you are right. Thanks.
The Jays. Sad, really. I don't get the chance to alliterate my jays very often. Forgive me?
Erthona. Yep. I have to say that it seems certain that he has gone on ahead. I did send a couple of emails. More in the discussion forum. Off topic here.
Best,
tectak

[tectak]

(Seulement entre parentheses:
No time right now and maybe not qualified enough to critique, but : the style reminds me a lot of G. M. Hopkins. ,-)
Content: reads like a parody ( mocking) of said. Enjoyed it. ;-) )

Hi serge,
Don't waste your intellect on this....read the discussion on Growth of Organic poetry.
Good to hear from you,
Best,
tectak
You may never read this. GM Hopkins festival in Dublin is a great affair. I went to it several years back and DO remember God's Grandeur as a remarkably predictive piece of work. You are amazingly well read,serge. If you read GG you will see the word "ooze". It is interesting that this verse form should throw up the use in my piece...subconsciously. Well spotted and well commented.
Best,
Tom