Posts: 2,602
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Old blood in young hearts foams faith and foment;
over-kill war in an over-spill land.
Children play games but live for the moment,
play Seek-the-Fire leaves a hole in red sand.
Paradise, paradise, hole in red sand.
Sisters in burkas live for tomorrow;
wailing in anguish yet praising each death.
Sharia masks the sham shame of sorrow,
as history lied, when god took a breath.
Paradise, paradise, god took a breath.
Hear this Lord roar, and quake in His presence;
know that with this God to die is the prize.
Defeat is glory, glory quintessence,
a paradox Pyrrhic seen through closed eyes.
Paradise, paradise, seen through closed eyes.
This the last battle, fought from within us,
cells of a cancer in all of our blood.
Broad cytotoxins mean that no winners
survive to pass on the memes of the good.
Paradise, paradise, memes of the good.
This game will end, a final solution;
a mother will cry with uncovered face.
Red rain that falls is Prophet's pollution;
man grows immune, but it’s death to blind faith.
Paradise, paradise…death to blind faith.
tectak and twitter
2015
Edit 1
Genetic Faith
Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury;
war in over-spill, over-kill land.
Young men are never children here;
all games are real. Play seek-the-fire,
die-to-live, safe in Virgin’s wombs.
Sisters, blank in burka, bedlam
wail, yet praise each death.
Sharia shades the shame of tear-fall;
once others cried, pride in the godhead,
masked behind His smoke and flame.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death brings peace.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; a Pyrrhic paradox.
In last recourse, like cancer cells,
they move in blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, fight from within;
Crude cytotoxins kill the patient
so no cure this, unless by time
genetic traits will slowly fade.
Now the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons
that rain down from prophet's hands.
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith.
Praise be.
tectak
Original
Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury;
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
No young men live for childhood here,
but for the fire that burns them back
into the wombs of virgins.
Their sisters, dark beneath the cloth,
make wails yet praise their brother's deaths;
tears fall in shame into Shariah shade.
Come to this place and meet the godhead,
smell His smoke and see His flame.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death can save.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; to win, a pyrrhic paradox.
The cancer cells are in the lymph
and in the blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, kill from within.
There is no cure, there is no answer.
Cytotoxins kill the body;
belief will loose genetic hold.
All the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons,
raining down from the prophet's hands.
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. Praise be.
tectak
2015
Posts: 1,568
Threads: 317
Joined: Jun 2011
(10-27-2015, 08:13 PM)tectak Wrote: Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury; -- nice alliteration and because of that I'll forgive the abstractions that dominate your opening line
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
No young men live for childhood here, -- the absolute is problematic -- perhaps "young men live not for childhood here" (no, that's not an inversion) or "young men here live, not for childhood"
but for the fire that burns them back
into the wombs of virgins. -- this is strong
Their sisters, dark beneath the cloth, -- I'm not a fan of "dark". It reeks of judgment and you run the risk of "they're not all brown" comments.
make wails yet praise their brother's deaths;
tears fall in shame into Shariah shade. -- is it not Sharia, or is that a spelling variant?
Come to this place and meet the godhead, -- I'm not sure that "meet the godhead" is right -- usually, "godhead" is a quality (godhood) -- you could try "meet the Spirit" but I don't know if that would work in reference to Islam
smell His smoke and see His flame.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death can save. -- removing "but" would improve your meter, with two nicely trochaic lines to begin this strophe
Defeat is glory to the fallen; to win, a pyrrhic paradox. -- I've always capitalised Pyrrhic but I could be wrong
The cancer cells are in the lymph -- the analogy is well set up
and in the blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, kill from within.
There is no cure, there is no answer.
Cytotoxins kill the body;
belief will loose genetic hold. -- this line is off-meter when you read it aloud -- you might consider "genetic hold loosed by belief".
All the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons, -- removing "have" will help
raining down from the prophet's hands. -- you don't need "down"
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. Praise be. -- "blind faith" gives you a cliche right where you need it least.
tectak
2015
It could be worse
Posts: 2,602
Threads: 303
Joined: Feb 2017
(10-28-2015, 05:02 AM)Leanne Wrote: (10-27-2015, 08:13 PM)tectak Wrote: Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury; -- nice alliteration and because of that I'll forgive the abstractions that dominate your opening line
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
No young men live for childhood here, -- the absolute is problematic -- perhaps "young men live not for childhood here" (no, that's not an inversion) or "young men here live, not for childhood"
but for the fire that burns them back
into the wombs of virgins. -- this is strong
Their sisters, dark beneath the cloth, -- I'm not a fan of "dark". It reeks of judgment and you run the risk of "they're not all brown" comments.
make wails yet praise their brother's deaths;
tears fall in shame into Shariah shade. -- is it not Sharia, or is that a spelling variant?
Come to this place and meet the godhead, -- I'm not sure that "meet the godhead" is right -- usually, "godhead" is a quality (godhood) -- you could try "meet the Spirit" but I don't know if that would work in reference to Islam
smell His smoke and see His flame.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death can save. -- removing "but" would improve your meter, with two nicely trochaic lines to begin this strophe
Defeat is glory to the fallen; to win, a pyrrhic paradox. -- I've always capitalised Pyrrhic but I could be wrong
The cancer cells are in the lymph -- the analogy is well set up
and in the blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, kill from within.
There is no cure, there is no answer.
Cytotoxins kill the body;
belief will loose genetic hold. -- this line is off-meter when you read it aloud -- you might consider "genetic hold loosed by belief".
All the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons, -- removing "have" will help
raining down from the prophet's hands. -- you don't need "down"
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. Praise be. -- "blind faith" gives you a cliche right where you need it least.
tectak
2015
Hi leanne,
thanks for commenting. An edit is/was overdue on this. It has been some time in gestation but though premature it has just avoided being still-born. Thing is, the metaphor overtook the skill. Plainly, godhead is misplaced chronogically. I had originally attempted to "set up" the christian trinity in a muslim world as a carcinogen. It was three mistakes in one...badly executed, historically obscure and way outside the core metaphor. Lesson learned...one metaphor at a time...sweet Jesus.It needs a rewrite just to get over this one error...for an error it surely is.
Pyrrhic...yes. Capital.
Shariah, Sharia...seen it both ways. Doesn't mean I'm right.
The only issue I have to "explain to keep" is the "dark beneath the cloth" OK. Why not just say "beneath the burka" ? Well,it just sounded like an overtly obvious cop-out. I had not considered dark (complexion) against dark (no light) so why should anyone else. I will take a view.
Blind faith....hmmmm. Not sure that the commonplace usage would be as precise if modified. It IS a cliche if by repetition we have all heard it before.... but, and I have argued from this pulpit before, all words are cliches by that definition.
The rest will become history. The core metaphor is worryingly accurate. I only hope my final conclusion is correct.
Best,
tectak
Posts: 9
Threads: 3
Joined: Nov 2015
this post was allowed in order to leave a message for everyone,
if you can't give substantive feedback in the serious forum, please stick to mild or/and novice./mod
(10-27-2015, 08:13 PM)tectak Wrote: Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury;
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
No young men live for childhood here,
but for the fire that burns them back
into the wombs of virgins.
Their sisters, dark beneath the cloth,
make wails yet praise their brother's deaths;
tears fall in shame into Shariah shade.
Come to this place and meet the godhead,
smell His smoke and see His flame. ----------word order? maybe change the two: see his flame and smell his smoke, sight preludes smell.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death can save.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; to win, a pyrrhic paradox. --------- the word pyrrhic is already a paradox essentially , idk if that is the point or not, if it is im sorry.
The cancer cells are in the lymph ------since you start talking about a new subject here, maybe start a new verse
and in the blood of infidels. ------- im kind of confused here, why is the blood in infidels? who/what are you talking about?
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, kill from within.
There is no cure, there is no answer.
Cytotoxins kill the body;
belief will loose genetic hold.
All the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons,
raining down from the prophet's hands.
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. Praise be.
tectak
2015 The poem is titled genetics however, you only start talking about anything genetic in the last 1/3 of the poem. maybe have undertones of genetics or biology (like you incorporated at the end) throughout the poem so readers aren't confused when they come to it near the end? amazing poem i love the science and biology you mixed in, as i myself am a biology student i found it very interesting. you kept the science simple enough that an everyday reader could understand, but mixed in enough of it that it is very intriguing to someone with advance knowledge in the subject.
Posts: 580
Threads: 71
Joined: Oct 2015
IMO you have a kernel of something really good here, but descend from the heights too early.
The kernel is, as you can guess:
No young men live for childhood here,
but for the fire that burns them back ----------------- Btw "Back" suggests that they came from virgin wombs in the first place, but they're not Jesus / Horus.
into the wombs of virgins.
Posts: 2,602
Threads: 303
Joined: Feb 2017
(11-06-2015, 03:16 PM)the man with the spoon Wrote: this post was allowed in order to leave a message for everyone,
if you can't give substantive feedback in the serious forum, please stick to mild or/and novice./mod
(10-27-2015, 08:13 PM)tectak Wrote: Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury;
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
No young men live for childhood here,
but for the fire that burns them back
into the wombs of virgins.
Their sisters, dark beneath the cloth,
make wails yet praise their brother's deaths;
tears fall in shame into Shariah shade.
Come to this place and meet the godhead,
smell His smoke and see His flame. ----------word order? maybe change the two: see his flame and smell his smoke, sight preludes smell.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death can save.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; to win, a pyrrhic paradox. --------- the word pyrrhic is already a paradox essentially , idk if that is the point or not, if it is im sorry.
The cancer cells are in the lymph ------since you start talking about a new subject here, maybe start a new verse
and in the blood of infidels. ------- im kind of confused here, why is the blood in infidels? who/what are you talking about?
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, kill from within.
There is no cure, there is no answer.
Cytotoxins kill the body;
belief will loose genetic hold.
All the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons,
raining down from the prophet's hands.
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. Praise be.
tectak
2015 The poem is titled genetics however, you only start talking about anything genetic in the last 1/3 of the poem. maybe have undertones of genetics or biology (like you incorporated at the end) throughout the poem so readers aren't confused when they come to it near the end? amazing poem i love the science and biology you mixed in, as i myself am a biology student i found it very interesting. you kept the science simple enough that an everyday reader could understand, but mixed in enough of it that it is very intriguing to someone with advance knowledge in the subject. Thank you.I eat all crumbs. This is undergoing severe editing. All comments welcome.
tectak
(11-06-2015, 03:16 PM)the man with the spoon Wrote: this post was allowed in order to leave a message for everyone,
if you can't give substantive feedback in the serious forum, please stick to mild or/and novice./mod
(10-27-2015, 08:13 PM)tectak Wrote: Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury;
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
No young men live for childhood here,
but for the fire that burns them back
into the wombs of virgins.
Their sisters, dark beneath the cloth,
make wails yet praise their brother's deaths;
tears fall in shame into Shariah shade.
Come to this place and meet the godhead,
smell His smoke and see His flame. ----------word order? maybe change the two: see his flame and smell his smoke, sight preludes smell.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death can save.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; to win, a pyrrhic paradox. --------- the word pyrrhic is already a paradox essentially , idk if that is the point or not, if it is im sorry.
The cancer cells are in the lymph ------since you start talking about a new subject here, maybe start a new verse
and in the blood of infidels. ------- im kind of confused here, why is the blood in infidels? who/what are you talking about?
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, kill from within.
There is no cure, there is no answer.
Cytotoxins kill the body;
belief will loose genetic hold.
All the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons,
raining down from the prophet's hands.
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. Praise be.
tectak
2015 The poem is titled genetics however, you only start talking about anything genetic in the last 1/3 of the poem. maybe have undertones of genetics or biology (like you incorporated at the end) throughout the poem so readers aren't confused when they come to it near the end? amazing poem i love the science and biology you mixed in, as i myself am a biology student i found it very interesting. you kept the science simple enough that an everyday reader could understand, but mixed in enough of it that it is very intriguing to someone with advance knowledge in the subject. Thank you. I refer you to my end reply.
Best,
tectak
Posts: 580
Threads: 71
Joined: Oct 2015
Some more suggestions...
(10-27-2015, 08:13 PM)tectak Wrote: Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury; --------- As described earlier, it reads better if starting from 'no young'
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
No young men live for childhood here,
but for the fire that burns them back
into the wombs of virgins. ------------------------- the womb of birth and the wombs of the virgins, to make sense of 'burns back'
Their sisters, dark from beneath the cloth, --------- 'dark beneath' suggests blacks skin, rather than the darkness under the burqa, which is your intention.
make wails yet praise their brother's deaths;
tears fall in shame into Shariah shade. ---------- couldn't understand this line at all. What is 'Shariah shade'?
Come to this place and meet the godhead,
smell His smoke and see His flame. ------------------ Smoke and flames suggest hell, but it's heaven that the Jihadis are aiming for. If you want to highlight the paradox, it's not obvious.
I don't like the rest. I think you've got a good start, but need to rewrite the rest. Just my view. So leaving it as it is.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death can save.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; to win, a pyrrhic paradox.
The cancer cells are in the lymph
and in the blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, kill from within.
There is no cure, there is no answer.
Cytotoxins kill the body;
belief will loose genetic hold.
All the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons,
raining down from the prophet's hands.
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. Praise be.
tectak
2015
Posts: 2,602
Threads: 303
Joined: Feb 2017
(11-07-2015, 06:16 PM)ronsaik Wrote: Some more suggestions...
(10-27-2015, 08:13 PM)tectak Wrote: Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury; --------- As described earlier, it reads better if starting from 'no young'
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
No young men live for childhood here,
but for the fire that burns them back
into the wombs of virgins. ------------------------- the womb of birth and the wombs of the virgins, to make sense of 'burns back'
Their sisters, dark from beneath the cloth, --------- 'dark beneath' suggests blacks skin, rather than the darkness under the burqa, which is your intention.
make wails yet praise their brother's deaths;
tears fall in shame into Shariah shade. ---------- couldn't understand this line at all. What is 'Shariah shade'?
Come to this place and meet the godhead,
smell His smoke and see His flame. ------------------ Smoke and flames suggest hell, but it's heaven that the Jihadis are aiming for. If you want to highlight the paradox, it's not obvious.
I don't like the rest. I think you've got a good start, but need to rewrite the rest. Just my view. So leaving it as it is.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death can save.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; to win, a pyrrhic paradox.
The cancer cells are in the lymph
and in the blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, kill from within.
There is no cure, there is no answer.
Cytotoxins kill the body;
belief will loose genetic hold.
All the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons,
raining down from the prophet's hands.
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. Praise be.
tectak
2015 Hi rons,
Sorry for late thanks. It slipped past me. I am very much afraid that I am forging this piece instead of constructing it. It is too hot. I need to let things cool down, especially in the light of recent barbaric events. Point-Poems should be written from the heart but via the head...not the other way round. I am slowly making this one worse. All crit will be eaten.
Thanks again.
tectak
Posts: 580
Threads: 71
Joined: Oct 2015
(10-27-2015, 08:13 PM)tectak Wrote: Edit 1
Genetic Faith
Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury; --------- So 'hotheads believe in violence'. A banal statement if there ever was one. Also universal. 'Blood in heart breeds faith' is abstraction central.
war in over-spill, over-kill land. ----------- why is the land over-spill? if because it is from the spilt blood of the over-killed, then it's saying the same thing twice. On the other hand, "war in over-spill IN an over-kill land" would say more, but ruin the metre.
Young men are never children here; ---------I have a problem with this. It's saying that there's something wrong if young men aren't children, when you're actually trying to say that 15-year-olds are not children here. How about 'boys'?
all games are real. Play seek-the-fire,
die-to-live, safe in Virgin’s wombs. ----------- prosey. The earlier version was better.
Sisters, blank in burka, bedlam
wail, yet praise each death.
Sharia shades the shame of tear-fall; --------- Still don't get this. There is no shame in martyrdom (as seen from their families' POV) with or without Sharia, which is Islamic law. Sharia talks about things like 'if you divorce your wife she and you must copulate with other partners before you can get together again' and the like. Your reference is to radical Islam in general, which is bigger than Sharia.
once others cried, pride in the godhead,
masked behind His smoke and flame.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death brings peace.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; a Pyrrhic paradox.
In last recourse, like cancer cells, ---- this is where the poem actually starts. I was getting tired of waiting. But one sec, why 'last recourse'? nothing in the preceding lines suggest that the 'first and second recourse' of suicide bombing wasn't working. In fact, sisters were wailing but happy, and young men were happy too, to get all those virgins.
they move in blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen... -- "Thou shalt not use ellipses" - said Tycho to Kepler
metastasise, fight from within;
Crude cytotoxins kill the patient
so no cure this, unless by time
genetic traits will slowly fade. --------- The section from 'In last recourse' to this is interesting. But all prose. It took me a while to realise that what you're saying is that a natural remission is the only cure. So there is no cure for Islamic fundamentalism unless it changes naturally and without discernible reason. Ok, but that doesn't give me a lot of confidence in the line about the 'dying / writhing' of blind faith at the end.
Now the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons --- The metaphor is that these boys are cancer cells who have killed their host...and now the mothers have gathered up the cells' cells? No, this is stepping out of the metaphor at the outset, and going back to the first stanza about fire and virgins. So the boys are dead and the mothers have their memories, which are like cancer cells. How? Or are they the new propagandists on behalf of their dead sons, their ideas / ideals being the cancer cells? Clearly ludicrous. Mothers aren't known to be actors in the Jihadi army. You're making a big and bold statement, and can't just toss it in there as an idea.
that rain down from prophet's hands. --- the prophet? cells raining down from his hands? did the cancer cells kill the prophet?
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. --------- ---How?
Praise be.
tectak
Original
Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury;
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
No young men live for childhood here,
but for the fire that burns them back
into the wombs of virgins.
Their sisters, dark beneath the cloth,
make wails yet praise their brother's deaths;
tears fall in shame into Shariah shade.
Come to this place and meet the godhead,
smell His smoke and see His flame.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death can save.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; to win, a pyrrhic paradox.
The cancer cells are in the lymph
and in the blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, kill from within.
There is no cure, there is no answer.
Cytotoxins kill the body;
belief will loose genetic hold.
All the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons,
raining down from the prophet's hands.
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. Praise be.
tectak
2015
Hi tectak - I think there are 3 issues with the poem: i) the logic is hard to follow, and I am not sure that it is consistent in the first place; ii) the basic idea is that of the urban guerilla Jihadist being a cancer cell in host societies, but it comes late in the poem, and isn't obviously related to the first couple of stanzas. It feels like jumping from one thing to another. iii) it is too prosey
This might need quite a few reworkings.
Posts: 2,602
Threads: 303
Joined: Feb 2017
(11-20-2015, 12:27 PM)ronsaik Wrote: (10-27-2015, 08:13 PM)tectak Wrote: Edit 1
Genetic Faith
Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury; --------- So 'hotheads believe in violence'. A banal statement if there ever was one. Also universal. 'Blood in heart breeds faith' is abstraction central.
war in over-spill, over-kill land. ----------- why is the land over-spill? if because it is from the spilt blood of the over-killed, then it's saying the same thing twice. On the other hand, "war in over-spill IN an over-kill land" would say more, but ruin the metre.
Young men are never children here; ---------I have a problem with this. It's saying that there's something wrong if young men aren't children, when you're actually trying to say that 15-year-olds are not children here. How about 'boys'?
all games are real. Play seek-the-fire,
die-to-live, safe in Virgin’s wombs. ----------- prosey. The earlier version was better.
Sisters, blank in burka, bedlam
wail, yet praise each death.
Sharia shades the shame of tear-fall; --------- Still don't get this. There is no shame in martyrdom (as seen from their families' POV) with or without Sharia, which is Islamic law. Sharia talks about things like 'if you divorce your wife she and you must copulate with other partners before you can get together again' and the like. Your reference is to radical Islam in general, which is bigger than Sharia.
once others cried, pride in the godhead,
masked behind His smoke and flame.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death brings peace.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; a Pyrrhic paradox.
In last recourse, like cancer cells, ---- this is where the poem actually starts. I was getting tired of waiting. But one sec, why 'last recourse'? nothing in the preceding lines suggest that the 'first and second recourse' of suicide bombing wasn't working. In fact, sisters were wailing but happy, and young men were happy too, to get all those virgins.
they move in blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen... -- "Thou shalt not use ellipses" - said Tycho to Kepler
metastasise, fight from within;
Crude cytotoxins kill the patient
so no cure this, unless by time
genetic traits will slowly fade. --------- The section from 'In last recourse' to this is interesting. But all prose. It took me a while to realise that what you're saying is that a natural remission is the only cure. So there is no cure for Islamic fundamentalism unless it changes naturally and without discernible reason. Ok, but that doesn't give me a lot of confidence in the line about the 'dying / writhing' of blind faith at the end.
Now the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons --- The metaphor is that these boys are cancer cells who have killed their host...and now the mothers have gathered up the cells' cells? No, this is stepping out of the metaphor at the outset, and going back to the first stanza about fire and virgins. So the boys are dead and the mothers have their memories, which are like cancer cells. How? Or are they the new propagandists on behalf of their dead sons, their ideas / ideals being the cancer cells? Clearly ludicrous. Mothers aren't known to be actors in the Jihadi army. You're making a big and bold statement, and can't just toss it in there as an idea.
that rain down from prophet's hands. --- the prophet? cells raining down from his hands? did the cancer cells kill the prophet?
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. --------- ---How?
Praise be.
tectak
Original
Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury;
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
No young men live for childhood here,
but for the fire that burns them back
into the wombs of virgins.
Their sisters, dark beneath the cloth,
make wails yet praise their brother's deaths;
tears fall in shame into Shariah shade.
Come to this place and meet the godhead,
smell His smoke and see His flame.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death can save.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; to win, a pyrrhic paradox.
The cancer cells are in the lymph
and in the blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, kill from within.
There is no cure, there is no answer.
Cytotoxins kill the body;
belief will loose genetic hold.
All the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons,
raining down from the prophet's hands.
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. Praise be.
tectak
2015
Hi tectak - I think there are 3 issues with the poem: i) the logic is hard to follow, and I am not sure that it is consistent in the first place; ii) the basic idea is that of the urban guerilla Jihadist being a cancer cell in host societies, but it comes late in the poem, and isn't obviously related to the first couple of stanzas. It feels like jumping from one thing to another. iii) it is too prosey
This might need quite a few reworkings. Thanks rons,
this is exactly what the piece needed. I confess that it is hotch-potch soup that has not been off the boil for more than a year. I just keep tossing in carrots every now and then but never actually tasting it. Yes to the basic stock. It is the cancer metaphor. The rest is watery and thin. Events made me lift the lid on it again and you are right and we know it, it is in need of a reconstruct. Just one point on the Sharia shade. The point was made on TV last year by a young (teen) Muslim gurl who said that though Sharia law application made her life as a woman intolerable, she could hide her tears behind the burka whenever emotion got the better of her. She also inducated that her friends cried behind tbe burka and were ashamed for so doing. Alliteration got the better of me a Shariah shame was diluted to Shariah shade. It didn't work. Incidentally, this girlls interview is still on youtube somewhere. It is sadly compulsive. Perhaps I should just have transmogrified her words.
I will take your points on board and give it one more chance to be something it isn't yet.
Very best,
tectak
Posts: 2,602
Threads: 303
Joined: Feb 2017
(10-27-2015, 08:13 PM)tectak Wrote: Edit 2
Genetic Faith
Hot blood in hearts
spouts faith and fury;
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
Where children lose childhood
and all games are real so
let’s play Seek-the-Bullet. The prize
will be virgins; paradise calls you
with faith the blind guide.
Burka your sisters, blank and bewailing,
Sharia shading the shame of tear-fall.
Once others cried, they carried
their godhead, masked in steel armour
to bring you His word.
No wisp of His smoke
is left in your Kingdom;
yet still you see fire.
Hear now the thunder, history rumbling,
send out your young into far western lands.
Tell them defeat is glory and honour;
infect what you can, though the body
may die in this pyrrhic paradox.
A wrong diagnosis, the cells are not cancer,
but strangely a virus
in infidel’s blood.
The plan was metastasise, move and manoeuvre,
replicate, duplicate, kill from within.
Cruel Cytotoxins poisoned the host
and poisoned the agents…no quick cure, this.
But from a mixed gene pool, immunity rises;
from competing gods and from faction faith.
Genetic traits must slowly fade
completely away.
But once all the children have killed to god’s quota
and mothers have gathered up cells of their sons,
and the red rain stops falling from haemophile heaven,
and hate, and fear and fraught fairy-tales
will no longer pass from parents to children;
then all will stand up to witness the death throes,
not of mankind, but of
genetic faith.
tectak
Edit 1
Genetic Faith
Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury;
war in over-spill, over-kill land.
Young men are never children here;
all games are real. Play seek-the-fire,
die-to-live, safe in Virgin’s wombs.
Sisters, blank in burka, bedlam
wail, yet praise each death.
Sharia shades the shame of tear-fall;
once others cried, pride in the godhead,
masked behind His smoke and flame.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death brings peace.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; a Pyrrhic paradox.
In last recourse, like cancer cells,
they move in blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, fight from within;
Crude cytotoxins kill the patient
so no cure this, unless by time
genetic traits will slowly fade.
Now the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons
that rain down from prophet's hands.
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith.
Praise be.
tectak
Original
Hot blood in hearts breeds faith in fury;
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
No young men live for childhood here,
but for the fire that burns them back
into the wombs of virgins.
Their sisters, dark beneath the cloth,
make wails yet praise their brother's deaths;
tears fall in shame into Shariah shade.
Come to this place and meet the godhead,
smell His smoke and see His flame.
Hear the crack and quake of triumph,
but know that only death can save.
Defeat is glory to the fallen; to win, a pyrrhic paradox.
The cancer cells are in the lymph
and in the blood of infidels.
The strategy is wisely chosen...
metastasise, kill from within.
There is no cure, there is no answer.
Cytotoxins kill the body;
belief will loose genetic hold.
All the boys have killed their quota,
mothers have gathered cells of sons,
raining down from the prophet's hands.
This is the end...the dying writhing.
Not of mankind, but of blind faith. Praise be.
tectak
2015
Posts: 1,139
Threads: 466
Joined: Nov 2013
(11-20-2015, 09:19 PM)tectak Wrote: Edit 2
Genetic Faith
Hot blood in hearts
spouts faith and fury;
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
Where children lose childhood
and all games are real so
let’s play Seek-the-Bullet. The prize
will be virgins; paradise calls you
with faith the blind guide. Last lines point to Islam. The "you" is assumed to be those damn extremists. Something prosaic about all this, though.
Burka your sisters, blank and bewailing,
Sharia shading the shame of tear-fall.
Once others cried, they carried
their godhead, masked in steel armour
to bring you His word.
No wisp of His smoke
is left in your Kingdom;
yet still you see fire. So the Christians come in, though I get how the Trinity's introduction could be confused for a bit of a theological blunder. There's got to be a better way of pouring it in.
Hear now the thunder, history rumbling,
send out your young into far western lands.
Tell them defeat is glory and honour;
infect what you can, though the body
may die in this pyrrhic paradox. ....So the medical metaphor comes. But this time, the Islamic extermists are the ones infecting, even though the story started with them having settled, and the Christians being the ones invading? That doesn't sound right. Or they're the ones infecting the lands of the Christians, right after the Christians destroyed their lands....which somehow feels more offensive than it should. Also, this sudden move west doesn't feel like a movement at all, so, as with the first supposition, it's very easy to confuse the body here for the earlier land rather than the latter -- I'm starting to think the first two stanzas are practically expendable.
A wrong diagnosis, the cells are not cancer,
but strangely a virus
in infidel’s blood. See? More confusion here, especially for your usually western reader. The first thing that came into my mind was their religion being the virus, which I am now sure is not what you tried to say, at first.
The plan was metastasise, move and manoeuvre, This feels so much like a confused metaphor, though I know I should know better; metastasizing is commonly associated with cancer, not with viruses.
replicate, duplicate, kill from within. And now we're back to viruses. You should have just started with this instead, for this stanza.
Cruel Cytotoxins poisoned the host
and poisoned the agents…no quick cure, this.
But from a mixed gene pool, immunity rises;
from competing gods and from faction faith.
Genetic traits must slowly fade
completely away. This doesn't feel right. Here, the earlier medical metaphor is swapped for a grander evolutionary one: but I thought the virus infected but one body, one infidel, those "far western lands"? The transition should be clarified.
But once all the children have killed to god’s quota
and mothers have gathered up cells of their sons,
and the red rain stops falling from haemophile heaven,
and hate, and fear and fraught fairy-tales
will no longer pass from parents to children;
then all will stand up to witness the death throes,
not of mankind, but of
genetic faith. I think the mixing of metaphors here in this too-free voice makes this little series of lines very prosaic. The return to the extremism here also feels ironic, with "have killed to god's quota": I get that that means they've stopped killing, but that very strongly implies that they have to kill, first. And the ultimate message feels wrong: if the speaker finds the most appalling part of this whole mess to have been the violence, why imply that the violence's ultimate end (that is, the death of all opposing parties) is the answer? The virus ultimately can't change the whole developed body, and the implication that natural selection is somehow involved in this is....Although now I think the insomnia is getting to me.
tectak
Posts: 2,602
Threads: 303
Joined: Feb 2017
(11-25-2015, 02:55 AM)RiverNotch Wrote: (11-20-2015, 09:19 PM)tectak Wrote: Edit 2
Genetic Faith
Hot blood in hearts
spouts faith and fury;
war in an over-spill, over-kill land.
Where children lose childhood
and all games are real so
let’s play Seek-the-Bullet. The prize
will be virgins; paradise calls you
with faith the blind guide. Last lines point to Islam. The "you" is assumed to be those damn extremists. Something prosaic about all this, though.
Burka your sisters, blank and bewailing,
Sharia shading the shame of tear-fall.
Once others cried, they carried
their godhead, masked in steel armour
to bring you His word.
No wisp of His smoke
is left in your Kingdom;
yet still you see fire. So the Christians come in, though I get how the Trinity's introduction could be confused for a bit of a theological blunder. There's got to be a better way of pouring it in.
Hear now the thunder, history rumbling,
send out your young into far western lands.
Tell them defeat is glory and honour;
infect what you can, though the body
may die in this pyrrhic paradox. ....So the medical metaphor comes. But this time, the Islamic extermists are the ones infecting, even though the story started with them having settled, and the Christians being the ones invading? That doesn't sound right. Or they're the ones infecting the lands of the Christians, right after the Christians destroyed their lands....which somehow feels more offensive than it should. Also, this sudden move west doesn't feel like a movement at all, so, as with the first supposition, it's very easy to confuse the body here for the earlier land rather than the latter -- I'm starting to think the first two stanzas are practically expendable.
A wrong diagnosis, the cells are not cancer,
but strangely a virus
in infidel’s blood. See? More confusion here, especially for your usually western reader. The first thing that came into my mind was their religion being the virus, which I am now sure is not what you tried to say, at first.
The plan was metastasise, move and manoeuvre, This feels so much like a confused metaphor, though I know I should know better; metastasizing is commonly associated with cancer, not with viruses.
replicate, duplicate, kill from within. And now we're back to viruses. You should have just started with this instead, for this stanza.
Cruel Cytotoxins poisoned the host
and poisoned the agents…no quick cure, this.
But from a mixed gene pool, immunity rises;
from competing gods and from faction faith.
Genetic traits must slowly fade
completely away. This doesn't feel right. Here, the earlier medical metaphor is swapped for a grander evolutionary one: but I thought the virus infected but one body, one infidel, those "far western lands"? The transition should be clarified.
But once all the children have killed to god’s quota
and mothers have gathered up cells of their sons,
and the red rain stops falling from haemophile heaven,
and hate, and fear and fraught fairy-tales
will no longer pass from parents to children;
then all will stand up to witness the death throes,
not of mankind, but of
genetic faith. I think the mixing of metaphors here in this too-free voice makes this little series of lines very prosaic. The return to the extremism here also feels ironic, with "have killed to god's quota": I get that that means they've stopped killing, but that very strongly implies that they have to kill, first. And the ultimate message feels wrong: if the speaker finds the most appalling part of this whole mess to have been the violence, why imply that the violence's ultimate end (that is, the death of all opposing parties) is the answer? The virus ultimately can't change the whole developed body, and the implication that natural selection is somehow involved in this is....Although now I think the insomnia is getting to me.
tectak I will divulge a little info in due course. I don't like the way this one is evolving...watch this space.
Best and thanks. No arguments.
tectak
Posts: 1,568
Threads: 317
Joined: Jun 2011
I was just about to say that I do like the way this is evolving. You've stuck in some compounded words and deliver the whole thing in a much more compact package, more rapid-fire if you like, so a lot of fat is trimmed.
I think now I hate "quota". It sounds bland against the rest.
Posts: 2,602
Threads: 303
Joined: Feb 2017
(11-28-2015, 05:24 AM)Leanne Wrote: I was just about to say that I do like the way this is evolving. You've stuck in some compounded words and deliver the whole thing in a much more compact package, more rapid-fire if you like, so a lot of fat is trimmed.
I think now I hate "quota". It sounds bland against the rest.
To all.
Time to come clean. I may well try to make something out if this but I would feel a little disingenuous if I didn't admit that the whole thing is cobbled together from twittish tweets from a friend's twitter account. (I have one but don't use it).
There was a huge surge in content once the extremists upped their game...all the crazies came out to play. I got all the "lines" in about 2hours. I must get a life.
Thanks for all the comments. I WILL NOT waste them.
Best,
tectak
Posts: 1,827
Threads: 305
Joined: Dec 2016
Ah, you got to your confession before I could chastise you. Being the good poet that you are, some good phrases were bound to come about, however before reading your confession I had already decided that this poem had 8 mothers with 100 husbands each wandering in the desert of Moe's Ass. Of the first part of the poem, that is all that has nothing to do with the ad hoc "Death of Faith", you seem to know your subject poorly and it shows, however it is held up by flourish. I can almost see the fairy dust spraying from your fingertips. It makes no sense, but does give one that bubbly feeling that occurs when reading a poem like "Jabberwocky".
Sorry it took so long to get to this, looks like everyone else has covered all the ground. In the end I think it could have been an interesting poem had your hard on for religion not gotten in the way, well that and having an idea of where you were trying to go with this. Oh well, nothing ventured no broken knee caps 
dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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