A dog bites the sun. Poppy fields burn purple
smoke, war colors reaped in angles. Woman
abides, in her Tarot Eve, ambrosian arcana dealt
mysteries. Her red hair harvest in blind quarks of
memory, 3am thought webs, jade bit sonatas.
May 23, 2017
The Balance's Hue
About This Poem
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: Editing - rough draft
Comments
I find this a
really hard bite fink555 despite the imagery all through. Maybe it's just me. I yet thought I would say I passed by this one
A belated welcome to Neopoet.
Ps. My dictionary didn't help much with "sonatas" and "ambrosian". Any hint would be helpful indeed.
Rula
Ambrosia is the food of the gods.
Sonatas are musical pieces.
Jx
Must be a bad dictionary, Rula.
Although if you thought about it if you had looked for the singular, sonata, you would have got a hit. Ambrosian is a rare adjective from ambrosia but again, look for the source word.
your poem
My take is that as a reader I am being offered a surrealist work. Like a Dali or Magritte painting. It seems to me the poem is more about the effect the word play, image after image, and the sound and shape of these words as evoke images in our minds. It exists as itself, it dances with itself. It exists the abstractionism of the collage of images. So it has its own tempo and poetic value. I can not comment on it anymore than I can most art in the museums of modern art.
Same with a lot of modern music, the twelve tone stuff or John Cage. You don't leave the concert humming that tune, it's about the experience of hearing the sounds.
Personally I prefer content. I suppose I'm a bit old school. I walk around the modern museums thinking most of that stuff would look good on the walls of a bank or modern office building- it has no "meaning" other than the act. You can't look at a Pollack painting and say, "hey, this swirl is too big or this paint splat seems out of place." I am in the minority, as the great art museums keep hanging abstraction paintings in the galleries. But you must write what comes natural to your muse,
and although I don't like it, I respect it.
or
Nothing is unattainable. Illusion feeds imperial delusions which are war colours reaped in power stratagems. Woman abides, as mother, maiden hag , mystical nutrition deals in mysteries. Gaia's cornucopia informs quantum racial memory, the shared darkest hour suffuses the essence of the music of the spheres.
Jess
got it. That was the meaning, though I thought (as you might expect) of someone other than Gaia.
Along with your quotes, Jess, I must assume you've achieved some mindful state of permatripping.
A dog bit the sun
(And a "dog bites the sun" comes from an alchemical woodwork that is very ancient. Just google "dog bites the sun": beautiful.) It is really about the female sex and the horror of the rest of the world, as J. noted.
Jackson Pollock and Cage were unwrapping the future, the little pillboxes in our mind, and there is an unconscious logic to life. Some people don't like it. I understand that only if I exhaust myself with it.
cool!
Was unsure about Gaia myself.
I am a mindful state of permatripping. [smiles]
"dog bites the sun" is a Googlewhack.
Pollack and Cage are heroes. Our National Museum bought "Blue Poles" in 1973 for $1.3 milllion, causing a national scandal, the tabloids went apeshit. It is now estimated at $350 million. As Cage taught the world the musical value of silence, poets teach the meaning value of elimination of the inessential.
Everything is exhausting.
Dig you my brother.