Eve
#1
[font=Helvetica]I did something completely different. Would love some feedback, thank you. [/font]



[font=Helvetica]Call me muse
[/font]

whether sacred or inverted;

for when I fall I pulsate

as a state of agony.



Prisoner of the garden

its temple 

and its warden

I do not rectify the order

it rectifies me.



Use me as a metaphor;

explain away your crimes

as I thump beyond amygdala 

and mathematician minds.



For I am but a woman

not a word; nor a thought

and I cannot be explained

by reason. 



You’ll find me in the ashes

of my dead witchy friends.

The internal battle

of a man with a pen;

who splits into the light

out of fear of the night

where I walk among the meadows at dusk.



If I symbolize the grave

the scientists have fought

then I carry every stage

of a long forgotten plot

where Eve met Atom

as the bomb did drop

and projected 

a discord 

from within. 



I am but a mirror, refracted and contained;

submissive to an order, though it seems to look the same.

In your shoes I do follow

for I am very tame,

and will die at the mercy

[font=Helvetica]of my garden.  [/font]




Version 1

My name is Eve and I was separated from the light.
If you look into a pit you can see my affectionate gaze,
the mother of man and all its saints; for I am the breeder of repulsion. 

I bore two men to covet the earth,
yet neither could dominate its daughters.
Among my favorites Teresa was born,
so the Lord created her twice.

In Ávila, she was inspired
with every creation brought forth,
as she watched mother's corpse generate more,
so Terese ate twigs for penance, mortified her flesh
with the faith the Lord would grant salvation. 

Albania, reveled in the sickly - a perfection she found supreme. 
Christ could be found in their torment
where she understood what others could not
that God never intended to create them in his image, 
but to resemble the man within - 
and so she burned in their embers and bathed in its ash
for Christ was the path to catharsis. 

My name is Eve and I govern the night
If you look through the woodlands you can feel my dismissive gaze,
the mother of orphans and all that's divine;
for I am the catalyst of love. 
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#2
Each of us is expected to leave at least one critique for someone else before posting a new thread of their own. Please catch up, thanks, ella
billy wrote:welcome to the site. make it your own, wear it like a well loved slipper and wear it out. ella pleads:please click forum titles for posting guidelines, important threads. New poet? Try Poetic DevicesandWard's Tips

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#3
Hi Acephale,

If I am being truly honest your piece reads a bit like a wikipiedia page then a passionet artistic poem. I mean St. Teresa was a passionate woman, (I know they are not big on quoting outside sources here, but I think it is relevant to my critique) here is just one quote;
"Accustom yourself continually to make many acts of love, for they enkindle and melt the soul." (St. Teresa of Avila)  

I think an ode poem like this should reflect more of the spirit of the person you are honoring. Hope this wasn't too sharp not meant to be, I just know you have passion ready to unleash in your work.


(06-14-2016, 04:05 AM)Acephale Wrote:  My name is Eve and I was separated from the light.
If you look into a pit you can see my affectionate gaze,
the mother of man and all its saints; for I am the breeder of repulsion. 

I bore two men to covet the earth,
yet neither could dominate its daughters.
Among my favorites Teresa was born,
so the Lord created her twice.

In Ávila, she was inspired
with every creation brought forth,
as she watched mother's corpse generate more,
so Terese ate twigs for penance, mortified her flesh
with the faith the Lord would grant salvation. 

Albania, reveled in the sickly - a perfection she found supreme. 
Christ could be found in their torment
where she understood what others could not
that God never intended to create them in his image, 
but to resemble the man within - 
and so she burned in their embers and bathed in its ash
for Christ was the path to catharsis. 

My name is Eve and I govern the night
If you look through the woodlands you can feel my dismissive gaze,
the mother of orphans and all that's divine;
for I am the catalyst of love. 
Reply
#4
(06-17-2016, 12:41 PM)homer1950 Wrote:  Hi Acephale,

If I am being truly honest your piece reads a bit like a wikipiedia page then a passionet artistic poem. I mean St. Teresa was a passionate woman, (I know they are not big on quoting outside sources here, but I think it is relevant to my critique) here is just one quote;
"Accustom yourself continually to make many acts of love, for they enkindle and melt the soul." (St. Teresa of Avila)  

I think an ode poem like this should reflect more of the spirit of the person you are honoring. Hope this wasn't too sharp not meant to be, I just know you have passion ready to unleash in your work.

Hmm, that's interesting and I thank you for the feedback. The poem doesn't seem to be conveying the message I want. This is not an ode, but more of a cunning satire. Mother Teresa and St. Teresa of Avila are both people who saw original sin from a very warped perception. Avila was filled with a genuine self-hatred for herself and women in general, and mother Teresa believed suffering was beautiful and not something that should be prevented. It's also not about them, but about Eve, who I see as a symbolic figure of the beginning of women following a patriarchal structure, because they couldn't control their sexuality.
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#5
The connection between Eve and the two Teresas is tenuous in the poem. Steffi Graf and Chen Yuanyuan are Eve's daughters too, but you wouldn't throw them randomly into the poem. If you are trying to contrast Eve's sexuality with the Teresas' lack thereof, then that's not coming across.
~ I think I just quoted myself - Achebe
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#6
Sorry, I didn't really like this. It just reads like a bible passage. It's not .....dramatic enough....and could benefit greatly from some imagery that would bring the reader into the 'now '. It needs some color, some sounds, smells....something...The dry, antique language is kind of monotone.
I just re- read it again. The line that does stay with me is the 'eating twigs' because I try to picture it in my mind. I like that line. It's whack.
I feel bad that I'm not saying more nice things- I read your other poem and liked it. For me though, this one is a miss.
Good luck-V

"Why do you suppose we only feel compelled to chase the ones who run away?" -Vicomte de Valmont, Dangerous Liasons
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#7
Understood. Let me do a re-write. Thanks for the feedback.
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