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flowers for Antigone

at the root of motherhood
the dawn of civilization
how could I have mistaken
God for my father and cut the
throat of the Magdalene?

the burden of the sky is to bear no defense against
the weavers of treachery,
words are pulp fiction
and pronounced in syllables
with the accent on denials,

recruit the marching flowers with the sing-song of
the drum, its rhythm a temple in an oasis where
priests fornicate with their sinless prayers
and the wealthy masturbate with spoils of ill-begotten gain

lockstep and closed, never to open the scent that is
compassion flowering as if there was a Sophoclean play where
heroes live forever
and the only villains found are in villanelles,
the only good poet is a dead one for her words
shall long be inspired.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

I love the play on words at the end of this ...villains in villanelles...the line breaks in this can use some work for example the last stanza which i wish I wrote by the way lol

lockstep and closed
never to open the scent that
is compassion flowering
as if a Sophoclean play made
heroes live forever
where villains are only found
in villanelles and the good poets
are dead ones for
their words shall long be inspired

I just changed it up so you could see an example of what I mean...it's totally your poem to have in whatever tense you wish. Just some removals of filler words here and there will make this so strong to read.

Chez
"The perfect woman perpetrates literature as she does a small sin: as an experiment, in passing, to see if anybody notices it - and to makes sure that somebody does." - Nietzsche

hi perhaps we'll stick the poem in workshop?

I tend to write more often than not in a different style, though when the flow comes... the poem is what it is.

Thanks for the read & comment. Barry did not like the last stanza.

~A

author comment

It would be a great workshop poem I think, I'd enjoy working on it

Chez
"The perfect woman perpetrates literature as she does a small sin: as an experiment, in passing, to see if anybody notices it - and to makes sure that somebody does." - Nietzsche

Slight changes made, just in case. ;-)

author comment
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