Another Death Initialedit .001geoff

[tectak]

Honour your dead if you must, but with envy as your sword.
Lay that beknighting blade a shave away from mortality:
the pulse which threads and trills to cease is death by grand release.
You think that life is all? What if that dictum is a fantasy?
Perhaps the flame, in final triumph, fails to singe the soul
and with each silent scream from locked and rigoured jaw
we writhe to rise again and hope for peace (if that is all we wish).
Ah, but death is worth each penny paid. No wealth will by its bounty
save the day, no lucid dream will bring you back to wail and moan.
No goodness, love nor honourable deed will make one stumbled step
reverse in time, or give you but one faltering extra breath,
or let you lay content upon a soft, warm breast;
nor suck upon a flower, or eat the wind, or scoop up earth
to simply hold it in your hand.Let the end be quick and sure;
this should be our living boon.See those who lie here long
in frozen time and wait, not caring for their blessed extended years;
nor by this measure (look upon them) in their dying beds,
holding the clouded dregs of what drains out, as though a gift
from god to clutch and save. It never is the death that creeps in shade
or plucks us random from the living tree, that sweats us
in our quiet life charade; the silver mark upon our bark
will guide the buzzing chain and we will fall, felled clean if we please
...or hacked and hewn if death we fight,
with faith in never ending life our blunted blade.
tectak
2014

[geoff]

Hello tectak,

Here are my initial thoughts when reading this:

Honour you dead if you must, but with envy as your sword. ..."your"?
Lay that beknighting blade a shave away from destiny:...in general, not a fan of "destiny" in cases like this
the pulse which threads and trills to cease, is death by grand release....need the comma?
You think that life is all? What if that dictum is but a fantasy?
Perhaps the flame, in final triumph, fails to singe the soul...I'm not fully sure how to interpret this line. It strikes me as saying that people are not satisfied even after success
and with each silent scream from locked and rigoured jaw....this is also an image that escaped me in the sense that the previous lines were describing a success ("triumph"), but the "locked and rigoured jaw" strikes me more as defeat
we writhe to rise again and hope for peace (if that is all we knew).
Ah, but death is worth each penny paid. No wealth will by its bounty
save the day, no lucid dream can bring you back to wail.
No goodness, love nor honorable deed will make one stumbled step
reverse in time, or give you but one extra breath,
one touch upon a soft, warm breast; nor let you suck upon a flower,
or eat the wind, or scoop up earth to simply hold it in your hand....I appreciate this and the last 3 lines or so because they give me some concrete images to set myself on and I enjoyed them (though "suck upon a flower" didn't quite resonate with me, mostly because of the verb didn't match what I typically think of for flowers). That being said, the tone strikes me as being a bit preachy. However, I can't disagree with what is being said
Let the end be quick and sure; this should be our living wish.
See those who lie here long in frozen time, who wait
not caring for their blessed extended years; nor by this measure
(look upon them) in their dying beds, holding the clouded dregs
of what is left, as though a gift from god to clutch and save.
It never is the death that creeps in shade, or plucks us random
from the living tree, that sweats us in our quiet life charade;
the silver mark upon our bark will guide the buzzing chain...."silver mark" went over my head
and we will fall, felled clean if we please...or hacked and hewn
if death we fight, with faith in never ending life our blade.
tectak
2014

I liked the piece's sentiments, but stretches of the writing were more difficult for me to focus on because of the heavy abstractions. I felt as though I was being told what to feel and think more than being led to arrive at conclusions. I hope some of this will be helpful for you,

-geoff

[tectak]

Hello tectak,

Here are my initial thoughts when reading this:

Honour you dead if you must, but with envy as your sword. ..."your"?
Lay that beknighting blade a shave away from destiny:...in general, not a fan of "destiny" in cases like this
the pulse which threads and trills to cease, is death by grand release....need the comma?
You think that life is all? What if that dictum is but a fantasy?
Perhaps the flame, in final triumph, fails to singe the soul...I'm not fully sure how to interpret this line. It strikes me as saying that people are not satisfied even after success
and with each silent scream from locked and rigoured jaw....this is also an image that escaped me in the sense that the previous lines were describing a success ("triumph"), but the "locked and rigoured jaw" strikes me more as defeat
we writhe to rise again and hope for peace (if that is all we knew).
Ah, but death is worth each penny paid. No wealth will by its bounty
save the day, no lucid dream can bring you back to wail.
No goodness, love nor honorable deed will make one stumbled step
reverse in time, or give you but one extra breath,
one touch upon a soft, warm breast; nor let you suck upon a flower,
or eat the wind, or scoop up earth to simply hold it in your hand....I appreciate this and the last 3 lines or so because they give me some concrete images to set myself on and I enjoyed them (though "suck upon a flower" didn't quite resonate with me, mostly because of the verb didn't match what I typically think of for flowers). That being said, the tone strikes me as being a bit preachy. However, I can't disagree with what is being said
Let the end be quick and sure; this should be our living wish.
See those who lie here long in frozen time, who wait
not caring for their blessed extended years; nor by this measure
(look upon them) in their dying beds, holding the clouded dregs
of what is left, as though a gift from god to clutch and save.
It never is the death that creeps in shade, or plucks us random
from the living tree, that sweats us in our quiet life charade;
the silver mark upon our bark will guide the buzzing chain...."silver mark" went over my head
and we will fall, felled clean if we please...or hacked and hewn
if death we fight, with faith in never ending life our blade.
tectak
2014

I liked the piece's sentiments, but stretches of the writing were more difficult for me to focus on because of the heavy abstractions. I felt as though I was being told what to feel and think more than being led to arrive at conclusions. I hope some of this will be helpful for you,

-geoff

Many thanks geoff.
This is an experimental piece but that is no excuse for typos and superfluous commas.
A recent harrowing visit to a cancer ward triggered it. I saw no joy in existence. My friend, the patient, spent his life in forestry and made the sad observation that trees were marked for felling with a daub of silver paint. Death would quickly follow. He could see no virtue in extended life once the mark was made. I could relate to his view..long extended death was the equivalent of slow decay. That is all. I need to rewrite this. The sub-metaphors are obscure and I am not good at obscure.
All your observations are valid. It is early days but how much time have we?
Best,
tectak