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I am not who I am

Hubris…
how abhorred am I
that bulls
surround me
all my bones
lay scattered—
a chaotic abacus

What is it
I hold?
— hubris?
this stunted form
my crippled spirit

forest creatures
stray
far from me
wolves
bark
at my shadow

What is it I own?
—hubris ?
alone
By whose
name do I go?

Richard
Spindle-shanks
David
Hobble-foot?
Which of these am I
how are monsters named?

—hubris?
‘Rumpelstiltskin is my name…’

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
I wrote this using a voice/persona I've invented. My poetics at the moment revolve around deformity and silence. It's still clunky and there are a few things wrong I just can't put my finger on, especially around the last two paragraphs. I have hunch it's related to repetition, tone and internal logic. Whenever there's " -- hubris" the line is meant to be indented however I haven't mastered formatting in the dialogue box yet:p.
Editing stage: 

Comments

Thanks!

author comment

articulation of a Gordian dream

walls to cup the vortex souls
of hypnotic source

"Why" the servants list
the monkey paw

broca's aphasia

deep in the labrynth

is the soul in the lattice of
the mind
or the river of the heart
swelling like a tide

I like your profile poem
questing

Monsters sheltered
free to roam

and like sleepwalkers
sleeptalkers
pausing in their step
their breaths
speak aloud
illusions for what is
"seen"

delve delve
before tis twelve

I think you are a brilliant Poet!
Thank You...

like your comment poems better than my own:p.

author comment

do not love ourselves, we will not be loved. It is not hubris, to want to be accepted for who and what we are.
Do not mistake tolerated with acceptance. You make a good case for the monsters of the world. Listen! I hear the people at the gate! Nice work, ~ Gee

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That is very good point about tolerance and acceptance. I'll keep that in mind when I revise:)!

author comment

all resort to hubris in their deformity and rejection. Frankenstein's Monster, (Beauty and) The Beast and others either nurture their gentleness or it is finally destroyed by the fear and hatred of others. Broad generalisations, I know, but this is the thinking that led me to grasping this poem.

The hubris of Rumplestiltskin is in his name alone, it is so pathetic. I think perhaps hubris is repeated too often, perhaps even distracting the reader from reaching this point. Which could be the clunkiness you feel in the last two stanzas, are you perhaps leading your reader by the nose a bit? Afraid they won't 'get' it?

That said I think it is marvellous! Elegantly written, evocative. I especially love the stanza

forest creatures
stray
far from me
wolves
bark
at my shadow

cheers,
Jess
Everything changes bar one. Neopoet's 'Prime Directive'-
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I think you're spot on. I'll remove a few hubrises. There's still something that nags me in this poem... It might even be a lack of action as the voice is there without motivation.

Thankyou again! At least that's one problem sorted:).

author comment

Rumplestiltskin has no more hubris than the pitiful thing of an unguessable name. Remember he has a lot more. He knows how to spin straw to gold, for example.

cheers,
Jess
Everything changes bar one. Neopoet's 'Prime Directive'-
"Critique don't comment".
https://www.neopoet.com/community-guidelines

your poem is just monstrously beautiful.
i loved it

loved

crumple life vortex crush
brash innocence burned off
in shockwave awe

Re reading this beautiful poem
twice over
from the once over

once upon a time
there delved
...

This piece reflects what I would assume the feelings of someone that hates their physical form and thinks only that others see the same image..
It happens many times in this world that people prejudge others by their appearance, which bodes ill for those that have a physical disability.
Maybe it is a natural old fashioned habit, from the hunter gatherer days when the physical form was held as the main object, if you couldn't hunt then you were no good.
Some of this old instinct is still retained, even though people like Steven Hawkins have the means of thinking much better than most.
A good word to pick was Hubris:-
Hubris from ancient Greek , means extreme pride or arrogance.
Hubris often indicates a loss of contact with reality and an overestimation of one's own competence or capabilities, especially when the person exhibiting it is in a position of power.
I liked this piece though question that Rumple bloke being there, I felt he didn't fit the profile.
I enjoyed the write all the same, Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Maybe try and build on the piece a little. I like what you have here but feel the thirst for more. Maybe other characters, As Jess seems to suggest.

John

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