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Through the Eye of the Mutoscope

a beautiful
garden landscape
anything from the monumental
street sculpture
to the baby's
breath-catching intimate
view of you!

Pleasing is your name
cornucopia of fragile white
daughter of the sun

Goddess Flora
tripping lightly through green
gathering in the shadows
of a past century
overwhelmed by ash
which formed a carbonised
and delightful love
of slick hyper manipulation

Flunkies in breeches serve
tongue loosening drinks
dark delightful perfumes
from the burnt flesh offerings

Dark women's hairpins
to the kitchen or the lavatory
for how corpses
with the slave's preserved love
kiss veiled crowds
of your lovely musical
choice that tells us that the animals
on stage might be looking for

She, if a certain intimacy
has been established among
your sleep thespians
and it is not some woman's struggle

Dancer, a tall, willowy
brunette with many
of the actors mingling
with the kisses engulfed by the
bones, flowers of congealed metaphors
as you hover in your negligee

Fragrance, you're right
daughter of dramatic eyes
the latter was, is more
preserving the forms
each gallery is populated
by images of their era's delight

Wife poised as a photograph
memory found
in the very details of her clothing
cabaret and costume
from which a bank clerk and his female self
even backstage dance in onanistic embrace

The erected fresco
the house from which
the heart-rending cast
windchimes and winejars
a fresco of the chained guard dogs

Sometimes the hat
a freed slave
has gratitude to its master
her image is fixed in my mind
greying and looks fading
hormonal changes from a past
contorted hound that has died
bringing remains
from the two cities
household shrines to the gods
the mundane materials of flesh
hard coating around
mosaic bodies
in the details of her clothing

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?
Editing stage: 


I just don't get it! I picked out a few thoughts that I was sure were about an abusive relationship; but the majority of this was only loosely connected. It may be that the lack of punctuation and capitals didn't give much indication of where thoughts ended and new ones began. ~ Geezer.

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Critique or comment today!

What I see here is a sensual pen in a stream of consciousness in a kind of enjambment drifting from the concrete to the abstract. If thats what your intention is I think you have succeeded in large part. Some times a writer wants to be liberated from the linear and feels to dissemble like DADA

Having said that, I think Geezer is telling you that he needs you to touch base with the narrative and you are telling him go with the abstraction, feel the language, the eloquent little descriptive verses like paintings of women, times and places etc. I know these 2 points are not mutually exclusive but have you not set up a polarity that only you can resolve?
To me the best and most powerful poems remain contiguous both in narrative and the more daunting ambiguity of abstraction, symbol, metaphor or any linguistic ornament of gesture

But this goes to my feelings about your work I've shared prior to these remarks
Your readers remain in search of you, not endless aesthetic obfuscations
Ask your self do you want to live in only 2 elements like fire and air or 6 like earth water fire air wood metal? Is not 6 more complete than 2?

What's in a name ….
Mutascope i.e. have you set yourself up to be the mute poet
and yes you write well

actually the title was something of a typing error. should have read mutoscope. "What the Butler Saw" was a mutoscope reel, and an early example of erotic films dating from the early 1900s. it depicted a scene of a woman partially undressing in her bedroom as if some voyeuristic butler was watching her through a keyhole. it was a pun really

the poem arose from an attempt to recreate a Dadaist method first put forward by Tristan Tzara. when the author takes a piece of writing, a newspaper article or something, depending on the length of the poem he wishes to write. cut each word from the article and place them into a bag. mix it well then conscientiously remove each word as they come and record the results. this is a first attempt at this method I hope it works

author comment

I find myself always wondering about your intentions as your writing remains veiled. But first thing the misspelled title was a fatal misdirection Of course I googled the word and got nada and then thought Neologism, and through up my hands. Context is everything it seems.

Its a personal thing but to me your poem is a linguistic exercise
Land scape poems about cinematic black and white flickering illumed transparencies
They are mere gestures irrespective of their eloquence

Don't you want to engage your reader or is it sufficient to impress yourself?
Are you afraid to be the voyeur, now that would be more interesting

it may raise a wry smile to think that the original article I choose before applying the Dadaist process was on the subject of the eruption of Vesuvius. to open the first door think the end of the world. the last day of an avaricious corrupt civilization.

most of my poems are merely simple love verses. I tend to over labour the same metaphors. the attempts at rhymed verse are really a recent move towards self growth. the above piece just another form of Methodism. but yes I primarily write for myself. I hope that's not too self indulgent but I believe this century needs a new revolution in art and the written word and staying true to oneself is as necessary as any other personal ethic. besides which I think even though the veil has not been completely cast away by the last sentence the reader can wonder at the spectacle whether it be a beautiful or abhorrent vision of the world of life or dreams

author comment

McLeach, so famous for his Ars Poetica , in which he states a poem must "not mean. A Poem must Be" was the credo of the Dadaists. Years later he wrote in his essays:

"Ars Poetica" does not do what it says should be done in the composition of a poem—largely because it is impossible to write a poem that is and only is an object to behold as a static object without meaning, without message. This is the central paradox of "Ars Poetica."

A poem, then, I agree, is not abstract painting or 12 tone music. Dealing with words that have associations and inert symbols and meanings, a poem cannot exist in total abstraction. Well, it can exist...but to what end? What is the response we are hoping to get from the reader?
David Bowie did word game poetry all the time, it helped open up the windows of imagination. There's a lot of information about that for us David Bowie lovers. He just found a way to focus it with so it existed in a perceivable universe for us the listener/reader.
Like the above comments, I need the poem to have a soul, some center to ground myself to allow the images to do their magic.

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

in 1920 in one of the Dadaist manifestos this method was suggested as you may know. in which it stated: "The poem will be like you. And here you will have a writer who is infinitely original and with a charming sensibility, even though it is misunderstood by the masses."

author comment

It is an interesting write.
Dabaist method is cheating in a way, it wants a reader to do a poet's job, to create sense from random words out of a bag with paper clippings. I need if not sweat and blood but some human vibe in a poem. Computer generated poetry will not replace us because of this subtle vibe that present in a good poem regardless whether it is a free stream or structured verse.
I think you do have this vibe in this poem.
But it is a hard to dig one.
Best wishes to you, dear poet.


agree completely it is a bit of a cheat but at the same time there are parts that I still find quite poetic that I would never achieve in the authentic style of a written poem. such as: "her dramatic eyes" I love that image and could never have come up with it on my own. I read though this method was invented by Tristan Tzara for one of the Dadaist manifestoes he never employed the style himself. I'm still quite fond of this poem even though it is a cheat I've never experimented with this style before I'm not ashamed of it

author comment

As I say you do have a vibe in this poem. So you fine, don't be ashamed yet ;)
I like this one the most:
a carbonised
and delightful love
of slick hyper manipulation
But I would drop delightful, and maybe used carbonated love instead of carbonised


as you know what the method behind this poem was I feel loathed to alter a single word even though you may be completely right in your logic. just so you know the original newspaper article was on the eruption of Vesuvius so to me the original wording feels correct. also I have to be conscientious to the piece or I ruin it with cliché. I don't mean to dismiss your advice but I feel my hands tied. I view it as a comment all great empires will fall.

author comment

I understand, of course!


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