Greenware

[alonso ramoran]

Greenware


Deprived of contact, blessed be the cold
damp dark---an inner warmth has been renewed
before the setting heat and gentle hold

of humankind was felt and misconstrued
as knowledge of the self. I am no more
abandoned than the grief that I subdued,

so eager to reverberate in lore
by my collapse that I could not conceive
my previous being as a distant shore.

Creation seeks creation, seeks to grieve
that memory beyond the fading mind.
Yet slow deforming offers no reprieve

from questioning the gentle hand's unkind
forsaking of believers it designed.

[dukealien]

Greenware


Deprived of contact, blessed be the cold
damp dark---an inner warmth has been renewed
before the setting heat and gentle hold  "hold" may not quite be the right word here, perhaps chosen for rhyme.

of humankind was felt and misconstrued
as knowledge of the self. I am no more    First sentence ending here:  interesting idea, does one know oneself from knowing others?
abandoned than the grief that I subdued,   a complex construction here, beginning with the suggestive "I am no more..." immediately redirected

so eager to reverberate in lore
by my collapse that I could not conceive   rather be dead than not famous?  Again, measuring self by others, an idea implicitly disdained
my previous being as a distant shore.  "previous" is more exact than "former," but must be slurred to fit the meter

Creation seeks creation, seeks to grieve  again, "grieve" is hard to interpret here as a transitive verb - perhaps chosen for rhyme
that memory beyond the fading mind.  
Yet slow deforming offers no reprieve  not quite the word here - excused from what duty or sentence?  
                                                          "relief" perhaps, with "belief" instead of "grieve?"

from questioning the gentle hand's unkind  okay, the final couplet makes sense
forsaking of believers it designed.  God (or the maker) lays aside His creation carelessly and (implied) unjustly.  Key word:  "believers."

In mild to moderate critique, I take this to be a meditation on the human condition , referring to the creation of Adam from clay ("greenware" when not yet fired).

The poem raises interesting points, but some of them seem a little obscured by the words chosen (one suspects) partly to rhyme.  It could be interpreted, crudely, as a complaint that one has been set aside, incomplete, with only others for direction on what to be and do.  And only gaining their interest and respect - entering the lore - gives a clue about whether one is doing it right.

I've probably not penetrated the full intent or message of the poem, but hope these few suggestions will help in making it clearer.  As it stands, it is nicely composed and pleasant to read.