To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
Ted I am mad with the mouth of God. Whose love but yours can reject Me? The branches lose their leaves, now My love, I need a cigarette. And so it goes, and so it goes When love goes When whatever it is you feel, goes. I see you and you Can't stand it. You make me a bitch You bastard You make me apologise for myself For what I see. I see the truth and as it loves me I unravel, I wash away to sea. The oceans find their way to you through my eyes. I kiss your work as I destroy it As I cannot choose but to destroy it I hold it to my heart. No, I'm not nice, Girlish, I call your spade a stolen fuck: Black blackness of the end of time But not the slightest bit silent One big bang, your universe A dead and empty passion Proud dead probing flesh Roaring my fate into your Deathly hands. My first love loved like a dog It was in his veins, pumping Acts without significance. But you, my hart All significance You cannot stray Without going to my doom. Don't make me make you lie Or make my love destroy me Don't make me die to live Or make your wife your whore. The shaman makes the world I make, yes I make the world Over and over again In your image, My dark incantation. And so it goes And goes, I'm packing toast Milk, tape and gas For breakfast. The leaves have flown The dog loves his bone. I never did smoke Until I burned for you. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2004-05-05 14:48:48
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.56522
I am mad with the mouth of God.
Engaging begining - how can we fail to dash right in?
Whose love but yours can reject Me?
It is remarkable the way that the caps on "Me" and lack of caps of "yours" serves to deepen the intention of the piece with a sidelong wink
The branches lose their leaves, now
My love, I need a cigarette.
lots of undertones of failed lights and reaching to the world for the comfort of the moment
And so it goes, and so it goes
When love goes
When whatever it is you feel, goes.
rich repetion which frames the poem - excellent transition
I see you and you
Can't stand it.
You make me a bitch
You bastard
You make me apologise for myself
ah, that universal struggle we all have - hiding ourselves, revealing outselves
and then standing naked and exposed in our truth - ranting
For what I see.
I see the truth and as it loves me
I unravel, I wash away to sea.
I like -"unravel" . "I wash away to sea" is a little ordinary I think -
not the action, but the phrase "wash away"
The oceans find their way to you through my eyes.
Marvelous! Simply marvelous! What richness in that image
I kiss your work as I destroy it
Like Dora in a Doll's house - like Wilde's Reading house Goal -we all kill the thing we love"
that bitter side of passion - the frenzy of it - captured freshly here!
As I cannot choose but to destroy it
I hold it to my heart.
yes
No, I'm not nice,
Girlish,
I call your spade a stolen fuck: [great twist just as the line was lurching toward banality]
Black blackness of the end of time
But not the slightest bit silent
One big bang, your universe [great!}
A dead and empty passion
Proud dead probing flesh
Roaring my fate into your
Deathly hands. ["deathly" hands stopped me to consider the word before
i could go on - too intellectual a neoglism for this flowing passionate
section I think.
My first love loved like a dog
It was in his veins, pumping }
Acts without significance. [I think this line is redundant - we know that from the dog analogy ]
But you, my hart -Oh! deer/dear -clever!
All significance
You cannot stray
Without going to my doom. [i like the way you play with pronouns
Don't make me make you lie These two lines are too ordinary
Or make my love destroy me
Don't make me die to live [YES!}
Or make your wife your whore.
The shaman makes the world
I make, yes I make the world
Over and over again
In your image,
My dark incantation.
taking us home again - yes! that is one great device
And so it goes
And goes, I'm packing toast
Milk, tape and gas
For breakfast.
tape and gas...for breakfast...ah....wow
The leaves have flown
The dog loves his bone.
I never did smoke
Until I burned for you.
wonderful ending to a hellova dramatic poem! Bravo!