inherited reflects abysses of forgotten cells into one
another, where wayward villeins toil, muzzled, skeletal
and bare, while bites of fire ants and cane leaves
erode the patience for a black fist to
seize daylight, worn by men who play
the sun, uncaring of its scorch from inside
manors, castles and suburbia,
overfilling with the otherworldly detritus of
independent struggle onto smoothly
paved roads, peaceful as a conquered womb
until bullets, arrows and machetes iterate
kaleidoscopes into the room behind eyes only able
to see green, even in the lungs where
sparrows nest and suffocate in
smoke as lumber and disease disperse under
miles of fluorescent light and towering shelves,
where limbs contort, fracture and reform
into hammers wielded by an unseen hand to
pillage golden memories from
evanescing pockets of the ocean, leaving
only gilded dreams in its wake as
cloudless and blue skies
rip the tendons
of today from yesterday,
so in tomorrow
we, laughing,
jump and
outrun cars
draft 3: self-similar
pure gold and righteousness
inherited reflects abysses of forgotten cells into one
another, where wayward villeins toil, muzzled, skeletal and
bare, while bites of fire ants and cane leaves
corrode patience for a black fist to seize
daylight, worn by men who play
the sun, uncaring of its scorch from inside
castles, manors and suburbia,
overfilling with the
otherworldly detritus of
independent struggle onto smoothly
paved roads, peaceful as a conquered womb
until bullets, arrows and machetes iterate
kaleidoscopes into the room behind eyes only able to
see green, even in the lungs where
sparrows nest and suffocate in smoke
as lumber and disease disperse over miles
of fluorescent light and towering shelves,
where limbs contort, fracture and reform into
hammers wielded by an unseen hand to pillage
golden memories from evanescent pockets of
the ocean, leaving only gilded dreams
in its wake as cloudless and blue
skies rip the tendons
of today from yesterday,
so in tomorrow
we, laughing,
jump and
outrun cars
1. The word art is very cool.
2. It has a very surrealistic feel and I love surrealism. Which isn't to say it makes no sense. I understand it. I really enjoyed following the words through the image behind the words. There are many leaps. That's the whole point of surrealism.
3. Ending is superb and a delightful surprise.
At some point, after other people have commented, I'd love to know how you came to write this.
Thanks for the feedback, glad you enjoyed it : ) Came to a realization earlier today that caused me to rework the whole thing, would love to hear which form you and others prefer but I have confidence in this form. As for the actual content, I'd love to hear if this new form has had an effect on the actual poetry.
Me again. It's a more impressive design, but it does make the reader work harder to leap the spatial gap and connect the reading. It also invites the reader to read around the edges which you may or may not have intended. Other than that, I don't think it detracts from the poetry itself. I did prefer the ending spaced out rather than a solid trunk as it appears now. Lessens the feeling of freedom contained in those final lines.
Are you wanting the reader to have a tree in mind? The earlier desgn was interesting in that it could be a tree, or a mushroom cloud, or something else. This one has its own charm, with the white space forming a second image inside the word image.
I guess I prefer the previous version, simply because it's easier to read and the words are what count in the end.
Now that you point out that this form invites the reader to read around the edges, I think I'm going to lean more into that in my next draft but I'm also going to keep it so you can still read the line across the page. Maybe that could solve the issue of feeling obligated to jump across the page to finish a line while giving the poem more depth? And I think it has the possibility of sharpening the philosophy behind the poem, especially once the reader arrives at the ending.
I understand what you mean about the ending, in some ways I prefer it too but I wonder if it's because it's the version I got to know first? Like if a fresh pair of eyes were to read it, would the "unification" of both sides in this draft be enough to compensate for that feeling of freedom that the spacing in the original draft gave?
Do you think the tree/mushroom cloud images still exists in this draft? If it does than that's a plus. I just thought that the blank space in the center is a much more accurate replication of the Mandelbrot set.
(09-20-2021, 04:34 AM)alexorande Wrote: Now that you point out that this form invites the reader to read around the edges, I think I'm going to lean more into that in my next draft but I'm also going to keep it so you can still read the line across the page.
I was hoping you might go in that direction.
And I think it has the possibility of sharpening the philosophy behind the poem, especially once the reader arrives at the ending.
The philosophy being?
I understand what you mean about the ending, in some ways I prefer it too but I wonder if it's because it's the version I got to know first? Like if a fresh pair of eyes were to read it, would the "unification" of both sides in this draft be enough to compensate for that feeling of freedom that the spacing in the original draft gave?
Hadn't thought in terms of unification. Wait for some new eyes.
Do you think the tree/mushroom cloud images still exists in this draft? If it does than that's a plus. I just thought that the blank space in the center is a much more accurate replication of the Mandelbrot set.
The tree, not so much the cloud. I had to look up Mandelbrot set. Not much the wiser, but I see the parallel.
The philosophy being dialectical materialism. In pretty simplified terms the left half of the poem and the right would have their own contradictions until resolving these contradictions either at the end or by reading the entire poem traditionally.
I don't know if it's just the delusion of a sort of author's bias but I can see a cloud, maybe more so than a tree because you can kinda see that skinnier spool of smoke at the bottom before it mushroom caps. I personally don't think the original draft had that consistency in shape because of the spacing in the final lines, then again the shape of smoke isn't always consistent of course
(09-20-2021, 12:17 PM)alexorande Wrote: The philosophy being dialectical materialism. In pretty simplified terms the left half of the poem and the right would have their own contradictions until resolving these contradictions either at the end or by reading the entire poem traditionally.
I don't know if it's just the delusion of a sort of author's bias but I can see a cloud, maybe more so than a tree because you can kinda see that skinnier spool of smoke at the bottom before it mushroom caps. I personally don't think the original draft had that consistency in shape because of the spacing in the final lines, then again the shape of smoke isn't always consistent of course
I generally am blind to philosophy, but that's one I've tried to study. Anyway, go for it. As to the cloud, I also see a Rohrsach test.
You might consider getting this moved to one of the critique threads. People tend to be close-mouthed about Miscellaneous.
Thanks for the suggestion. I think I'll have it moved now that you mention it but I first thought that since this was a more experimental poem with its own particular rules that it would be harder to critique and would therefore discourage people from critiquing. I'm still worried that'll happen but it is a poem that I enjoy editing at the moment while also being pretty tough to edit so I would really appreciate any detailed feedback I can get.
I'm a slow learner and I think I also learn better by doing things. I just started learning about dialectical materialism last year and don't really have a firm grasp on it yet, so I would consider writing this poem as another small learning exercise.
I attempted to rewrite it so that the reader could read around the edges but also could still read from one side of the shape to the other but I might have underestimated how difficult it is to do while still retaining a cohesive poem. I might have to set that idea to the side for now unless others respond with different suggestions on how I might accomplish this.
New draft posted. I couldn't get the previous versions to format correctly so I gave up and removed them from the post. I had this thread switched over to moderate critique anyways so it can just be like starting new. Thanks for reading
New draft posted. I couldn't get the previous versions to format correctly so I gave up and removed them from the post. I had this thread switched over to moderate critique anyways so it can just be like starting new. Thanks for reading
I like it. I'm sticking with my surrealist reading But I can see you added some very instensive images to what was already a very pleasingly dense poem. And I like what you did with the ending.
Thanks for sticking along for the editing process. After learning a bit more about how the space in the middle of the Mandelbrot set isn't a complete void, I drafted a new version that I hope somewhat resolves that issue of readability.
I don't know if I'll be getting feedback anytime soon from others, but I still don't mind explaining how I came to write this poem. I'll link it in the spoiler below.
I became very interested in fractals a couple years ago and the ways in which they show up in nature. I forgot how, but I came across the Mandelbrot set and thought the shape was really cool. As I learned more about history through the lens of dialectical materialism and began to understand how things progress and transform over time I became fascinated by the thought of humanity as fractals. Humanity as fractals would be: (1) how individual actions and thoughts all resemble larger political structures, (2) how these larger political structures resemble individual thoughts and actions in return and (3) how the natural world from the smallest scale to the largest scale responds to a political structure that removes humanity from the natural world. I was also thinking about how the Mandelbrot set is a good representation of infinity, then I made the comparison of how living and being raised in a political structure that has existed before you were born and only learning of this political structure and its evolution creates this hard-to-break illusion that this political structure is all that ever was and will be. All of this in mind, I became inspired to write a poem that resembles the Mandelbrot set that conveys this idea of humanity as fractals and this is what I got
Thanks for sticking along for the editing process. After learning a bit more about how the space in the middle of the Mandelbrot set isn't a complete void, I drafted a new version that I hope somewhat resolves that issue of readability.
It's been a pleasure to watch it change. I never get tired of reading it. You should do more concrete poems. I like all the versions really but this is the best.
I haven't read previous versions or the critques. Below are some comments.
First off, the concrete poem nature of this piece is notable for the sheer dificulty it must have been to format. That said, formatting does not a poem make.
As a concrete poem I'm guessing light bulb, balloon, or mushroom cloud, and the last of those seems to fit best. As someone who most often sticks to form(s), I can observe that the form (for me) many times obscures the poem. I believe that is happening here, as I found this one very difficult to read.
pure gold and righteousness
inherited reflects abysses of forgotten cells into one not at all sure what that means
another, where wayward villeins toil, muzzled, skeletal "villains"
and bare, while bites of fire ants and cane leaves
erode the patience for a black fist to
seize daylight, worn by men who play not at all sure what's going on here
the sun, uncaring of its scorch from inside
manors, castles and suburbia,
overfilling with the otherworldly detritus of independent struggle onto smoothly dependent?
paved roads, peaceful as a conquered womb
until bullets, arrows and machetes iterate
kaleidoscopes into the room behind eyes only able
to see green, even in the lungs where
sparrows nest and suffocate in interesting but obscure image
smoke as lumber and disease disperse under
miles of fluorescent light and towering shelves, sounds like Home Depot where limbs contort, fracture and reform
into hammers wielded by an unseen hand to
pillage golden memories from
evanescing pockets of the ocean, leaving you'rer really stretching it here alex
only gilded dreams in its wake as cloudless and blue skiesredundant: cloudless skies tend to be blue rip the tendons
of today from yesterday, my favorite lines in the whole piece
so in tomorrow
we, laughing,
jump and
outrun cars this ending is completely detached from the rest of the piece
I really have no idea of what you're going for here, alex, as the juxtapostion of surreal images hints at some existential struggle without being coherent enough to draw me in, or make me feel anything; the formatting gymnastics add to my mystification.
All of that said, it is an impressive feat to get the formatting to work on this site.
Just because I'm not a fan of this piece does not mean others won't like it. I'm not too keen on avant garde, abstract art either, so maybe it's just me. Still, from my perspective it seems like a bunch of magnetic word marbles that have taken on a shape that means something to you, but not me, I'm afraid.
Please read this aloud to yourself, or better yet, to someone else; to see how it sounds. (I tried to, but got lost repeatedly in the white spaces).
I am not seeking any clarification outside of the poem itself: if something needs to be explained it needs to be expressed in the poem.
Sorry if that seems harsh, but posting in MILD/MODERATE can have that effect.
Thank you for the feedback. Just going to try to clarify a few things below if I may
(10-01-2021, 05:21 AM)Mark A Becker Wrote: another, where wayward villeins toil, muzzled, skeletal "villains" "villeins" is intentional
independent struggle onto smoothly dependent? I'm curious about why you'd think so
miles of fluorescent light and towering shelves, sounds like Home Depot could be haha
Again thank you very much for the feedback. A mushroom cloud is a visual interpretation that I think is relevant and thus welcome, but it is not what I set out to convey; I was kind of hoping the title would hint at that shape I was getting at a little.
You're feedback wasn't harsh at all. I thought you were pretty honest about what you thought worked and what didn't in a way that wasn't discouraging, and that's something I really appreciate
i love that this is the Mandelbrot set. i didn't recognize it as such at first, especially as the formatting breaks on mobile (this is written in my computer), but that's more on me than on the piece.
i do think that'd be the experience for a lot of readers, though, because while the set is instantly recognizable, one needs to be in a particular headspace for it to *be* so recognizable, otherwise it becomes some sort of Rorshach test instead. it might be easier if the presentation were horizontal than vertical, but that might turn out to be quite a stretch -- what i'm surer of is that the *earlier* draft, by virtue of being more faithful to the usual presentation of the set, is somewhat easier to get.
but as for the words themselves, while i see a sort of internal logic to it -- tropical revolutionary third world contrasted with greedy suburbian capitalist sprawl -- i find them kinda grating xD the emphasis put by the new draft on certain words feels especially unearned, as they remain a word soup even when taken on their own.
the poem's dream logic simply isn't grounded enough to connect -- "an unseen hand to pillage" might be a reference to the invisible hand, for example, but "golden memories"? "evanescent pockets"?? -- which, for a subject (or the semblance of a subject) that's so *lived*, makes it kinda, idk, poseurish? i'm reminded of a song by Arcade Fire that makes a similar point to what i guess this piece is trying to achieve, but with far more simplicity:
"living in the sprawl,
dead shopping malls rise like mountains beyond mountains
and there's no end in sight---"
ie the way the first world decays looks a lot like the speaker's native Haiti.
that said, this piece as a whole *works* for me, the same way as a lot of songs do. the words give a semblance of sense, but immediately break down on closer reading, however the concreteness -- much like a song's melody or production -- really does save it, if not as a poem then as a work of art.
because you can kinda see that skinnier spool of smoke at the bottom before it mushroom caps. I personally don't think the original draft had that consistency in shape because of the spacing in the final lines, then again the shape of smoke isn't always consistent of course
But I can see you added some very instensive images to what was already a very pleasingly dense poem. And I like what you did with the ending.
