This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2004-05-19 01:28:16 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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Condensation In the matter of a word, or two,
That tap themselves along
On finger-fibres that can channel the cosmos,
I’ll flesh out a miracle.
First, refresh yourself in a page
Of this portable white bathroom
Scrabbled with black roman tiles.
Gently rinse your eyes in this ink.
Then, with a familiar sting you’ll see it:
Your face, splashed across a mirror.
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Copyright © May 2004 Mark Andrew Hislop
This Poem was Critiqued By: Wayne R. Leach On Date: 2004-06-02 22:08:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.44898
Mark, a fascinating take on us poets. Uniqueness and excellent imagery is yours, my friend. Countdown - 4, 3, 2, 1 lines per stanza, yet with increasing magnetism to draw the reader along. Great job, sir. [And yes, I see it.] :>) Write on in harmony and peace. wrl
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2004-05-27 18:44:25
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.92857
Mark:
I will likely fall wide of the mark again; my last misinterpretation was indeed
embarrassing. The title is no help as there are so many diverse meanings of the word.
Initially, I thought of it in the sense of something written in compact style. The
Reader's Digest Condensed Books but with the bathroom imagery, I assume it refers
to water vaporizing to steam as it does in a bathroom.
Then you refer to graffiti on walls therein in sharp contrast to the poetry with
which you begin the poem::
In the matter of a word or two,
They tap themselves along
On finger-fibers that can channel the cosmos,
I'll flesh out a miracle.
First, flesh yourself in a page
Of this portable white bathroom
Scrabbed with black roman tiles.
Gently rinse your eyes in this ink.
Then with a familiar sting you'll see it:
Your face, splashed across a nirror.
Finger-fibers that can channel the cosmos are significantly powerful and the poet is
leaning toward giving them free rein. Therefore, I think this is about composing a poem
or reading poetry from a true-depth approach. I get this notion largely from your
ending couplet and your singular ending line.
It's as if you face the poem so directly, you get ink in your eyes, feel the stinging of
the poem's import. Thus with blurred vision you see your face in condensation on the mirror.
I did as you requested in looking at this poem but it's a bit arcane for me. I tend to be too
literal and do not do well with symbolism of post-modern poetry.
I can admire the intellect that contrived this piece, I understand every word written but the
real meaning teases and skitters away.
Mark, I suspect you are too sophisticated and adept for me to unravel your more complex pieces.
However, I greatly enjoy reading your poetry but do better with the less abstract ones.
Let me know how far off I strayed this time.
Best wishes,
Mell
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2004-05-21 10:40:23
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.26923
Cut.
Now. For my next trick, I'll make you a sonnet bonnet.
Pass the Comet.
The Disorderly Critick
This Poem was Critiqued By: G. Donald Cribbs On Date: 2004-05-20 07:47:12
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.81818
Mark,
You are certainly getting into your groove with this one. Quite remarkable the growth you are making as a poet, in leaps and bounds, and this one is quiet, confident, and has a strong presence poetically throughout the poem. You have found your voice. Now it is the time to learn to hear your poet's voice audibly as you write so that you can retain what is unique to the way you put words and phrases together on the page. I am confident you will master this in your next steps.
As for this poem, it is very well crafted, well put together and does an awesome job of setting the reader up for the marvelous ending. The title hints at this but doesn't give it away. Wonderful, outstanding, you are rockin it with this one! Here are a few comments:
In the matter of a word, or two,
That tap themselves along [nice alliteration with the 't' sounds here. I like the idea of words tapping, nicely done.]
On finger-fibres that can channel the cosmos, [finger-fibers? Check spelling...nice word combo though!]
I’ll flesh out a miracle. [this is pure brilliance. You've got your voice]
First, refresh yourself in a page
Of this portable white bathroom
Scrabbled with black roman tiles.
This whole stanza rocks. I love the idea of the contrast of poetry and bathroom imagery and the inks and tiles overlapping. I get the picture of you scribbling (nice word, scrabbled) a poem on toilet paper and posting it here to be read. Hilarious. The scrabbled makes more sense with the whole double meaning of tiles and bathroom tiles. I'm telling you, you've got your voice here.
Gently rinse your eyes in this ink.
Then, with a familiar sting you’ll see it:
Nice tension with the idea of "gentle" being paired with rinsing eyes in ink. A funny image, but goes well with what you're going for here in meaning. The sting is a great "leaping" moment here to the spiritual. Very well put together.
Your face, splashed across a mirror.
This last line is AWESOME! Somewhat unexpected, and totally nails the idea, to try to absorb a poem you need to lean your face into it, get the ink all over you, get the sting of what it's saying. Brilliance.
Thank you for sharing this voter-worthy piece!
Warm regards,
Don
This Poem was Critiqued By: Lennard J. McIntosh On Date: 2004-05-19 14:05:23
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.81818
Re: "Condensation"
The writer adapts an interesting form to manifest a concrete relationship to the poem's
title.
Writer: "... finger-fibres that can channel the cosmos ..."
LJMc: In the the above poetic flourish, the writer converts one's ability to reproduce
words, in what has to be called thoroughly literary; remarkable dexterity with words.
Writer: "Gently rinse your eyes in this ink."
LJMc: Have no fear writer, for I cannot but rinse my eyes in the gentle words that have
hooked me into your bidding.
Writer: "Your face, splashed across a mirror."
LJMc: Yes, I see it! I've also seen my own face in different washrooms. And, if we
linger long enough, we'll see both images pass from exisence in the condensation that takes
them.
You have turned a common-place experience into a mystic encounter by the intensity of your
poem, sir. It's an effort deserving applause. Congratulations!
A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2004-05-19 11:06:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.73333
What an amazing poem!
In the matter of a word, or two,
That tap themselves along
On finger-fibres that can channel the cosmos, [wonderful]
I’ll flesh out a miracle.
Lots of allusion to the soft flesh of existence – even sent me off on an odd train of thought – those webs of flesh between our fingers – webs – the miracle of evolution.
First, refresh yourself in a page
Of this portable white bathroom
Scrabbled with black roman tiles.
Okay! Can I graffiti the walls? Someone has already has drawn
marvelous stick figures over the loo. Can I write on the mist in the mirror too?
Gently rinse your eyes in this ink.
Then, with a familiar sting you’ll see it:
Ouch! But yes, I remember the kind of writing that hurts
Your face, splashed across a mirror.
Yes…but still alive and grinning under the scars and the running eyes.
Sorry, MArk, but I can’t find anything to change at all.
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