This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2007-01-24 07:08:13 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The archers

All those archers, whose arrows rent the sky  For one eagle, had earned their place  Of merit, if only love had fixed their eye  On Byzantium rather than its crown.  Artemis gives her spoil Elysium to face,  While her archers would much rather die  Dreaming they look up by looking down:  Their carrion, thus comfortless, may never fly.

Copyright © January 2007 Mark Andrew Hislop

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2007-02-13 11:39:47
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
MAH, A rather late critique, I know. But . . . There is a diminishment in spirit in modern poetry. To compensate, the flesh is overadorned: trinkets, baubles, bangles, bracelets . . . I think of Isaiah 3. They load their poetry up with observation, sensory details or images that are dumb, that cannot speak, but which glitter on surfaces. Conceptual power comes from spirit, mind. Confronted with conceptual power, naked spirit, the "modern" can only bumble: "telly poetry." I cringe when I say that phrase out loud, at it's paltry hanging like fraying rags on the thing I love: Poetry. Poetry that has something to say, some conceptual power. Like this. Keep writing "telly" poetry. Perhaps if you tell them enough, they might just get it eventually. I will try to take that arrow out of my ass. And aiim higher subsequently. MSS

This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2007-02-05 20:28:42
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.85714
Mark, Smooth read, love your verbiage and cannot incapulise into other words. I find: On Byzantium rather than its crown and Dreaming they look up by looking down: Their carrion, thus comfortless, may never fly. are exceptionally fine lines, enjoyable and thought provoking. Sorry I can't be clearer - time is not a friend these days. Best always, Lora
This Poem was Critiqued By: Michael BrokenSword On Date: 2007-01-26 18:02:16
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Hello, Mark Well, first blush has me noting the archaic way of punctuating; tis old style to use front-end capped lines. What I don't like about this style is that I'm stopped in the flow each time I get to a capped word; I believe poems should flow and hence, after much the same abuse re punctuation toward my own beginning efforts, conceded my own critter's points and relented. Poetry flows better with normal, everyday punctuation. I mean, do as I first did; write it and THEN go back and punctuate correctly; it wont' hurt and if even one reader has an easier ride, isn't it worth it? As is probably usual, I'm one of those that would really like a footnote re the myths and names you reference. I COULD go and look it up and I still might but I don't think the average reader will. It can only help to have that bit of info that makes the body/read go easier. I can see the images and if I knew the myth, would probably resonate more. As it is, I'm having to do this by allusion and context. I think your point is probably lost on me until I look up this storyline. I like how it 'seems' to end, the end pith works for me, adds to overall tone. I don't think your title, though, is that effective; too generic for me. Ah, and another spot of missed punctuation, too. So, overall it was an ok read; I'd like a bit more epic sweep but it feels like you were only making a very direct point and I think you did that. BrokenSword
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2007-01-26 01:17:33
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.62500
I think perhaps Mark we are all archers to some extent.....just depends upon what you are thinking about. if you are dealing with love and life or perhaps world situations. So many areas one might cover with this one. Thank you for posting and sharing, God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2007-01-25 21:10:58
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.78571
Mark, I have to wonder if most people look down, thinking they are looking up... hence they never hit the air! And comfortless indeed! Everyone wants to live the high of life without the effort. Too busy in their individual day to day's to look beyond the clouds. I see many posable levels with this piece. The value of caring concern...disolutionment, high mindedness. I'm reaching a bit now myself. Happy day,ole! Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2007-01-24 12:26:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Mark...Me thinks you have returned to your comfort zone with this write. Of course it is superb with a sweet cadence that keeps me returning to the words time after time. I could just say you are actually writing about the gods and godessess in the sky...or so it is written. But I know it is more profound than that, however, that theme would be just as lovely. The romantic in me wants to believe this poem is about love, more so lost love, but then I keep thinking it may be a metaphor about the sign of our times and the war we are embroiled in and the stuggle it has become. Either way it is written in the "Mark style" that I have grown to love and appreciate. Standing ovation for this one! xx oo Mazza the critiques are so very slow in coming on tpl now. I posted a poem yesterday which hasn't received one critique! It is metaphorical, as well, and that may be the reason
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2007-01-24 07:36:23
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
The plight of mankind to societal blindness fascinates itself with social pathology. Serial killers, especially. And without asking why. That has always perplexed me. Perhaps there is more wisdom sometimes in the subconscious and that is the part of the mind so interested. It is acquiring the why, that why being we do move to destroy our obsession, beauty being no exception. Simply to be free of what we cannot seemingly overcome in any other way. While the poet's Byzantium will always represent the man coming to terms with that...without resorting to pathology. War should teach us all how easily we can be swayed, just as the Crusaders when they sacked Constantinople, to that madness. JCH
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