Consecrated pipe smoke
chokes the weaker brother
smother me
with your "liberty" that usurps reality
like a post-modern philosofake
shaking the foundations of their own logic
until it haunts them with their own earthquake
"Forgive us, forgive us" they cry in their defense
"but what you spoke evaded sense
So we took it upon ourselves to write new commandments
can't you understand it? We're not bandits, just outlining our own righteous handprints!'
and the wrath of God descends in ways they declare unfair
we all pay for our ignorance
our apathy
our entrance into the knowledge of good and mastery
it can't master me!
it can't...
...I can't be here.
...I can't possibly.
...I was setting the example, lining ducks up like carnival games
building churches out of pagans
writing poems as new Scriptures
until I realized at the end
I was the sleeping friend
I was Israel, the whore
sleeping while you prayed for safety
from the horror night cast
while the rain came down at last, I invited every stormy cloud
how does that vinegar taste?
so soft and so chaste, so white and pure
but the blood...
oh, the blood...
can you save your stretched body?
can I pierce it for you?
could you forgive?
as you silence, my eyes wet
my body set in stone
frozen
still
alone
my soul is not my own
Author notes
It is finished!
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
PS- And was the pink just to piss me off?
-
"it can't master me!
it can't...
...I can't be here.
...I can't possibly."
Levi, I love you for lines like these. How can you keep a mind for the dramatic, a mind for the mirror, when you're so immersed in the subject matter at hand? That turn worked so well, I wanted to take the Lord's name in vain (Superpoet/prophet fails in succeeding!)
Lines/stuff that worked: the entirety of the first stanza post-break. The lining up of ducks and the building churches of pagans and the setting poems up as Scriptures (applying to the first stanza as well, I'm sure, with the (almost) self-righteous proselytizing and also echoing the pseudo-intellectuals making up their own commandments while you make up a "new" scripture). Also, the bringing down of every stormy cloud, followed by "how does that vinegar taste"? I'm jealous of your ability to convey meaning in the vernacular. I have to use ridiculous words like vernacular to convey meaning in my own works. The tone just worked, throughout. It made me buy lines I wouldn't normally (such as the ultimate lines, which would normally be cliche, but sort of rocked as the ultimate of ultimate. I suppose using a possible cliche as the ultimate of ultimate even makes sense, if one's implying there is some commonality between all people. A soul is usually so implied).
Things that could be better:
Some of your internal rhymes. In the first stanza: "With your "liberty" that usurps reality." I get and like the idea, but in this case your rap-voice gets a head of you and forces you into dry rhymes too close together. Especially considering you break into longer lines later, I don't know how essential that is. Oh, and putting quotations around liberty is almost snotty, but it sounds like your reacting against your own presumptuousness in the turn, so I'm cool with it. Know that the people to whom you are addressing this verse would probably just move the quotations around: "With liberty we'll usurp your "reality"". Also, I know I like taste, with the vinegar, as I said: but chaste? Really? Soft + chaste, white + pure... even too cliche for ultimate, when stated so bluntly, I think. (Though yes, ultimate should be in ways blunt). Can't you turn the phrases a little more creatively, if you're going to be avoid the metaphors? And speaking of metaphors: the use of the whore of Israel is powerful, but usually isn't used as the "passive"/sleeping friend. Usually it speaks to Israel actively worshiping other gods/doing evil. Though I suppose "allowing" evil is paralleled with "doing" evil in the following lines... but I think in those sorts of comparisons you should be more clear, so readers don't think you're fumbling your verses.
"but the blood...
oh, the blood..." gives me troubles, because I know you need the blood in Ultimate, but given like this, it takes away the oppurtunities for great images/insights. Though I like the falling away of the lines leading into "can you save your stretched body / can I pierce it for you" which are two of the most awesome lines, despite their apparent simplicity. Especially the pierce line. Talk about getting to the heart of the problem. I think the "could you forgive" might take away some of the emphasis, though it needs to be there... another stanza? or a line to lean against it? Or are you going for the three-line-trinity sort of thing and would reject two couplets?
Finally, something simple: the last line of the first stanza has too many syllables, or their not coming out smoothly. I'd cut to "haunted by their own earthquakes", but I'm not the rapper. I'm the one who likes even-ness on the page. (Which would work well for the first stanza, new scripture giver!)
THANK YOU for writing Ultimate. It was awesome. Literally, you struck me dumb at the turn. Have you read "I have a Rendezvous with death" by Alan Seeger? Part of the going from hope/despair/hope/despair reminds me of your poem. This had better not be the last poem you post. Or you will have one of those angry heathen philosofakes loudly resounding false commandments at your door. In Tennessee, if I must.
...sorry if I was harsh. I truly enjoyed it.
-
i do not exist
So i could definitely almost hear you rapping this. . . .the way it read, and that added alot. Hmm ultimate on easter? This was premeditated. . . .And i can see traces of Aaron Weiss. . . .the last three sections are the best. . rich metaphors and images. . .the one that stands out as the strongest to me is the isreal/me/whore. .the effect. . .(someone must've been reading Hosea recently)
"can you save your stretched body?
can I pierce it for you?
could you forgive?"
this is armed and dangerous stuff. and i'm a fan of the power and message behind those words. Levi, i might have to say for the "ultimate" poem, this is up there, even though you;ll deny that! At it's best.
"my soul is not my own"
~nOva-
-
Pure passion.
Adding your comment:
