Caesar's story isn't mine, and neither is that of Icarus

[Lydish]

Caesar’s story is whispered in VENI VIDI VICI 
but once he was a boy, ( like me, like you), 
and he came from a womb, all the same. 
     Many years later, my story may cycle in the wind, in the waves; 
     none of it matters in these dawn time days. 


My world creates my reality creates my home. 
     I’d like to build a worldly house with a sky blue roof and oak bound foundations, 
     connected altogether within your wild walls and berry flower ceilings 
     (at least, I hope, my world will have you all over.) 

But first, to grow: 
     an ambitious mutating willow 
     until all that matters not is so far below 
     that even my roots don’t know 
     they’re there. 

Last night, I dreamt I was Icarus, who tumbled all the way down from his apotheosis, and drowned in the ocean blue. 
     With warm brown hair and snowflake wings, 
     With warm brown hair and paper wings, 
     I too will fly. I too will climb. 

And, dear gravity, I’ll trust you to be there when I fall, with 
bandages and careful loving and blissful laughter for my soul.

---

First thread! :-)

I wrote this in April for Napowrimo, and have been editing it over and over since. I've looked it over and picked at words and tenses and punctuation so much that I almost can't look at it anymore. Any criticism of the title is also welcome. I have a terrible habit of just throwing a title at a poem afterwards. Thank you!

[fuzzyllama1]

Caesar’s story is whispered in VENI VIDI VICI 
but once he was a boy, ( like me, like you), 
and he came from a womb, all the same. 
     Many years later, my story may cycle in the wind, in the waves; 
     none of it matters in these dawn time days. 


My world creates my reality creates my home. 
     I’d like to build a worldly house with a sky blue roof and oak bound foundations,
     connected altogether within your wild walls and berry flower ceilings 
     (at least, I hope, my world will have you all over.) - The first line in this stanza describes how the universe at large affects individuals, the second line describes how individuals want to give back to the universe that gave them everything. A touching way to describe The Meaning of Life. Putting the romanticism in the last two lines is a nice touch, I think.

But first, to grow: - You have to grow, learn, and experience before you can give yourself to the world.
     an ambitious mutating willow 
     until all that matters not is so far below 
     that even my roots don’t know 
     they’re there. - Separation of these two words into their own line is wonderful, gives two meanings: The roots don't know they are there, yet still "they're there." I think this part is beautifully structured.

Last night, I dreamt I was Icarus, who tumbled all the way down from his apotheosis, and drowned in the ocean blue. 
     With warm brown hair and snowflake wings, 
     With warm brown hair and paper wings, 
     I too will fly. I too will climb. - The narrator is still young, still learning. 

And, dear gravity, I’ll trust you to be there when I fall, with 
bandages and careful loving and blissful laughter for my soul. - Why is gravity patching you up? Seems to me that gravity is a harsh, unforgiving force. Are you trying to portray the narrator's naivete?

---

First thread! :-)

I wrote this in April for Napowrimo, and have been editing it over and over since. I've looked it over and picked at words and tenses and punctuation so much that I almost can't look at it anymore. Any criticism of the title is also welcome. I have a terrible habit of just throwing a title at a poem afterwards. Thank you!

[Lydish]

Thanks fuzzyllama1 for your interpretation! Very helpful to know what the reader gets out of it. I wasn't sure if the bits of romanticism would seem out of place, but I'm glad you liked it!

[Achebe]

Hi Lydish - nice imagery, perhaps spend work required on building the argument
If the intent is to portray an unreliable narrator, then the Icarus argument is a bit of a stretch even for that 

Caesar’s story is whispered in VENI VIDI VICI 
but once he was a boy, ( like me, like you), 
and he came from a womb, all the same. ..... "womb" brings up the caesarean association. Not sure if that's intentional (why, if so?)
     Many years later, my story may cycle in the wind, in the waves; .....nothing in the rest of the poem argues for this supposition. If by 'story cycling' you mean the opposite of being remembered, like Caesar, then why the "may"?
     none of it matters in these dawn time days. .......the "waves / days" half rhyme grates a bit


My world creates my reality creates my home. 
     I’d like to build a worldly house with a sky blue roof and oak bound foundations, 
     connected altogether within your wild walls and berry flower ceilings 
     (at least, I hope, my world will have you all over.) .....I don't get the metaphor here. You'd like to create a "house" - perhaps your life - with oaken foundations ("oak bound" makes no sense to me) -but your world creates your reality, so really, the foundations are anything but oaken. Unless the oaken and sky blue are just whimsically thrown in there and can be replaced by "plastic" and "sheet metal".

But first, to grow: 
     an ambitious mutating willow 
     until all that matters not is so far below 
     that even my roots don’t know .....it's ok to have rhymes scattered loosely through a poem, but the sudden inclusion of four jerky, forced rhymes here is jarring. Also, what happened to the house metaphor?

Last night, I dreamt I was Icarus, who tumbled all the way down from his apotheosis, and drowned in the ocean blue. .......I'd prefer not having the inversion here. Good image.
     With warm brown hair and snowflake wings, 
     With warm brown hair and paper wings, 
     I too will fly. I too will climb. ...:nice 

And, dear gravity, I’ll trust you to be there when I fall, with 
bandages and careful loving and blissful laughter for my soul. ....I like these lines, but I don't see how your fate will be different from that of Icarus, with whom you begin the strophe. There's nothing to suggest a different outcome other than the title. The internal logic of the poem falters here.

---

First thread! :-)

I wrote this in April for Napowrimo, and have been editing it over and over since. I've looked it over and picked at words and tenses and punctuation so much that I almost can't look at it anymore. Any criticism of the title is also welcome. I have a terrible habit of just throwing a title at a poem afterwards. Thank you!

[Lydish]

Hi Achebe, 

I'll definitely take your advice on expressing / building the argument more clearly as I work on editing.
All of the images are indeed intentional, and not replaceable with sheet metal or plastic, but I will have to work on a way to make that less subtle maybe. Thanks for your comments!

Hi Lydish - nice imagery, perhaps spend work required on building the argument
If the intent is to portray an unreliable narrator, then the Icarus argument is a bit of a stretch even for that 

Caesar’s story is whispered in VENI VIDI VICI 
but once he was a boy, ( like me, like you), 
and he came from a womb, all the same. ..... "womb" brings up the caesarean association. Not sure if that's intentional (why, if so?)
     Many years later, my story may cycle in the wind, in the waves; .....nothing in the rest of the poem argues for this supposition. If by 'story cycling' you mean the opposite of being remembered, like Caesar, then why the "may"?
     none of it matters in these dawn time days. .......the "waves / days" half rhyme grates a bit


My world creates my reality creates my home. 
     I’d like to build a worldly house with a sky blue roof and oak bound foundations, 
     connected altogether within your wild walls and berry flower ceilings 
     (at least, I hope, my world will have you all over.) .....I don't get the metaphor here. You'd like to create a "house" - perhaps your life - with oaken foundations ("oak bound" makes no sense to me) -but your world creates your reality, so really, the foundations are anything but oaken. Unless the oaken and sky blue are just whimsically thrown in there and can be replaced by "plastic" and "sheet metal".

But first, to grow: 
     an ambitious mutating willow 
     until all that matters not is so far below 
     that even my roots don’t know .....it's ok to have rhymes scattered loosely through a poem, but the sudden inclusion of four jerky, forced rhymes here is jarring. Also, what happened to the house metaphor?

Last night, I dreamt I was Icarus, who tumbled all the way down from his apotheosis, and drowned in the ocean blue. .......I'd prefer not having the inversion here. Good image.
     With warm brown hair and snowflake wings, 
     With warm brown hair and paper wings, 
     I too will fly. I too will climb. ...:nice 

And, dear gravity, I’ll trust you to be there when I fall, with 
bandages and careful loving and blissful laughter for my soul. ....I like these lines, but I don't see how your fate will be different from that of Icarus, with whom you begin the strophe. There's nothing to suggest a different outcome other than the title. The internal logic of the poem falters here.

---

First thread! :-)

I wrote this in April for Napowrimo, and have been editing it over and over since. I've looked it over and picked at words and tenses and punctuation so much that I almost can't look at it anymore. Any criticism of the title is also welcome. I have a terrible habit of just throwing a title at a poem afterwards. Thank you!