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Orpheus - Journey into the Underworld

That golden disc
the jewel of the oceans above
that light may kiss
and map each line of fate
entranced in the face that I love

each trembling touch
a shimmer of love's own design
the hunger of beasts & such
the raving choirs bereft
of the music of wine

each echoless word
mere vessels of lovers in flight
each velveteen chord
the slipping of hands
in the ultimate conquest of night

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
an attempt at rhumed verse. the theme may be familiar however with rhyme i'm often well out of my depth
Editing stage: 

Comments

Very nicely metered with a good rhythmic feel and consistency, yet Its all so victorious, When my father died I dreamed of him on a train, like a darkened subway, lighted by a single brown yellowish puce bulb, desolate and very noisy like clanking bones thundering down the track as it made its way to some Hades like terrain, implying I suppose a sense of sever displacement, loss, and so very alone, desolated.
Do you feel that death is a victory?
Having asked the question, I think its possible that it is liberating potentially, for some a move up, for others not so
Perhaps its a personal thing on my part, while alluding to it in the last line "the slipping of hands
in the ultimate conquest of night", there is no moment in this where I'm particularly moved
not a tear, not a smile,, nothing profoundly transformative, etheric, incandescent, dangerous or foreboding.
Consider if my comment moves you that the poem requires bigger teeth...Its about the power of language and entrancement

no death is not victory. it is the conquest of death that denied Orpheus his wife. I don't know if you need to refamiliarize yourself with the myth. the slipping of hands is a reference to Eurydiche being claimed by the dark seas when Orpheus broke the vow to gaze back on her before fully returning to the light of day. thus she was lost to the oblivion of night. maybe its just a badly executed piece of writing. and the meaning I intended to imprint is lost. thanks for reading all the same

author comment

Fair enough, and no your poem is not badly executed at all, quite to the contrary, and you are right to say I may need to refamiliarize myself with the Orpheus myth. Having said that if I where on the tip of the tongue familiar with the myth
What would it change?

Should the poem stand alone or be context dependent?

Do you think a reader should have Greek mythology cerebrally hardwired for the ahaa effect to care about the writing?

If I go to google up Orpheus does your poem turn to light now that I am refamiliarized?

What do you want from your reader?

Hay I'm the new idiot and enjoy the interactions with others with plenty of my own failings and aspirations My comments are only good if they are useful to you, if I offer a point of view that touches or illuminates.
Warm regards Z

I'm no intellectual elitist but I do expect the readers of my "poems" to have educated themselves in the cultures of the world. I put a lot into my own personal education. that said I left school with nothing. I am of the kind that loves to uncover mysteries and I have enough respect for any readers that they are knowledgeable enough to rise to any platform of understanding. if not then they should do their research life is about nothing if not a constant bridge to learning and understanding. but if this poem doesn't touch you at all on any level I think that must be my failure.

author comment

Its good to have expectations of your readers, I wrote a poem about memory in terms of neuroscience. Should I ask you to read up to get my poem or should I as a poet have a way to engage as fully as possible irrespective of your neuroscience creds?
To what end am I writing ?

Your a good writer, consistent in mood, adherent to your goal, eloquent etc. I felt the absence of the power of feeling
Its not just about the myth.

then I think you must remain truthful to your muse. should you compose a poem on memory in regards to neuroscience I would love to read it even though it maybe far beyond the limits of my meagre understanding. even though a handful could possibly comprehend you are duty bound to raise the limits of your art. have the respect for your readership otherwise what are we doing here little more than scribbling self indulgent characters in the dust will little of our true being to raise our fellow humans from the mires of ignorance.

it is true there is no doubt not enough emotional content in the above poem for all to relate to. that is because it is an attempt to find order in words. this is not ordinarily one of my gifts. I usually write in free verse. silly love poems but its an attempt at personal growth. that said I stand by what I've written and I'm not afraid of my conviction that all who ponder my little obscurities will have the faculty or at the very least curiousity to delve a little deeper

author comment

STOP ;) your killing me with your self deprecation ,,,haahaahaa I so appreciate your comment about trying to refocus on certain aspects of writing as I find myself in this crisis too

According to some my stuff can get so rangy, iritic, mood jumping. It begs the question what model of perfection are we working with. There are so many. What do we believe and how do those beliefs remove us from us from our creative eminence or bring us into the rapture of it. I'm a professional artist In grad school I witnessed bar room brawls between the figurative painters and those predisposed to abstraction. The figurative painters thinking the abstract painters had no craft and the abstractionist believing the figurative contingent had no intellect, regressive as tethered to convention That was the 70s. Seen from the vantage point of post modernism this could never happen, To me Style is about temperament. Over and over again every time I saw work that I loved inherent in it would a way of seeing implying rules that would make me an adherent only to discover something else that blew me away that was antithetical to my prior infatuation, a serial monogamist
Always painting like some one else, always painting last centuries or yesterdays paintings in search of myself driven by absence of individuation and fear, never in front of the curve.

If you like read a poem in the stream called Copycat, neuroscience

Warm regards Z

Maybe you could take a look at another poem of mine "Ballad of Genevieve" of course its still an attempt at formulaic poetic expression but unlike this one the emotional content is far more palpable. It would be interesting to hear what you think of that even if you don't like it

author comment
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