This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2006-05-14 22:54:52 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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Legacy I should have volunteered for the navy,
been shot at, seen my fear gleam in the inch
between nose and the just-shit-myself deck.
Maybe then this boy might have had a chance.
The theory seems to be PTSD >>>
alcohol addiction >>> twelve steps >>> and bang!
You come out powered like Tireisias:
now every sonofabitch is limping.
But back there in the tropics, under fire,
under defoliants of regimen
that equate homosexuality
with no reflection in spit-polished boots,
before your serotonin sink fired up
and the deck plummeted up through your heart,
you glanced overboard, and watched your seventeen year
old face stand one second on water, and then drown. |
|
Copyright © May 2006 Mark Andrew Hislop
This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2006-05-26 18:54:22
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.77778
Dear Mark,
I can't help but admire the raw quality, etched between the lines of this poem. A force fuels the write,
making certain verses stand out among others. I like the way you accented stanza (3), as it lends to the
power of the sentence. Bang is right.....Post traumatic stress disorder, alcohol - and living the twelve step program - nothing easy about any of that.
Great line That equate homosexuality with no reflection in spit-polished boots. The idea of spit polished boots not giving off a reflection, appealed to me in this write.
I was very surprised by the end of this read - and it places impact on the whole read.
According to things I've read, the frontal lobe of ones brain is not fully developed, until they are 25
Fact or not, I'm not sure, but giving responsibilities of this calibur to the 17, 18, and others under this age,
may just not be a good thing.
I enjoyed this poem, thanks.
Denimari
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jordan Brendez Bandojo On Date: 2006-05-19 23:46:20
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.70588
Hi Mark,
With your title alone, "Legacy", this must suggest something to be taken seriously. And indeed the theme on PTSD and alcoholism is something that we need to ponder on.
Two-line style is neat and enjambments are just fine but I think "Tireisias" is spelled as Tiresias or Teiresias if you are talking about Greek Mythology but that is not a big deal here. You poem is powerful to convey its message and written in a very artistic way.
Thanks for sharing, Mark. This is your second poem so far for this month and I hope I can see more postings from you.
Jordan
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2006-05-15 21:30:25
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Again, a poem sustaining intensity, with a potential for power
so far beyond the pablum too frequently served here. You have
a natural ability to go just far enough...yet not too far.
Don't feel so obliged to the classical illusion, it comes on
as if you wanted your ticket punched to be permitted and it
serves little. You have a much grander stage than that Rome
and Greece envisioned.
Your play of imagery and illusion is gifted as you toy with
the dissimilar in ways to question the formal. This is one of
your strengths and has always made me partial to you as a candidate
for poetic excellence.
The poems stands on its own, but I see potentials a little more work
might enhance. Things to say...and places to go with them.
But that might be another poem.
JCH
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2006-05-15 13:29:42
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Mark...glad to see you have surfaced! I was beginning to wonder if you were still among the living...just kidding. This stark poem is filled with emotion plus a dash of desperation sprinkled between the lines. I know nothing about alcohol addiction but I do know some about PTSD as I know I suffered from that some time ago....not a fun place to be and if you are struggling with that now then I am sorry. You infer that alcohol addiction is worse than getting shot at and perhaps it is and I suppose people look differently at a bloddy wound they can see rather than a wound so deep that only the bearer can see it. Well I will quit rambling on and just tell you that this is a passionate poem and of course it is well written as is your style. I am glad to see you back and hope all goes well.
My best...Mazza
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2006-05-15 10:34:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
MAH,
At this rate, I half expect Ceasar's ghost to show up . . . or Gene Dixon. :)
I can't imagine the mess of who I am additionally belabored by an alcohol addiction. Having seen the same up close and personal, albeit not a direct link such as a parent, spouse, or child - but too close anyway - the frightening language can be related to, somewhat.
Shit, here we go again. The alcohol addiction may just be a similitude, a variant of PSTD . . .
While I'm not an alcholic, I am somewhat hung over. That is not denial. I am not an alcoholic. I swear. When I think of something appropriately reverent to swear by, I'll let you know.
Welcome back, mate. Let the noncritiquing begin. :)
MSS
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