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Poetry Magnum Opus

Darkness


dr_con

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Darkness

 

Into the dark

never a battle cry

rather a vegetative rumination

on hidden motivation, priests

and magicians are to be used

ferreting out hidden public

and private sins,

 

all therapists are Jesuits

complicit in justifying

the active principals

of privilege

 

in a painful world

4:30 am, I start

a new job, pandering

 

The omens are both good and bad

clarity, in the preverbal

is simple, Cry or Joy

my Mother assumed

 

epic crimes from a past life

no reason for a child to be so terrified

eyes open screaming and unresponsive

my memories are of armies marching

beneath the basement floor

a dark heart beating

and then nothing

ever more.

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Dr. Con,

 

Often, when I observe the mannerisms of artists whom I admire, I become inspired, albeit with an abundance of awe and a tinge of jealousy. For example, when I take in the work of GOTTFRIED HELNWEIN (at his official site), I ask myself, "How does he do it? How did he develop such a unique style?" I have the same reaction when I listen to the music I love. But what does this have to do with you and your poem? This: I have always admired your style of writing, and somehow this poem seems even more polished than usual. I, myself, have often tried to capture some element of the fine arts in my own writing, though I have not quite succeeded in doing so. You seem to have captured Helnwein in a different medium, a literary medium, especially here:

The omens are both good and bad

clarity, in the preverbal

is simple, Cry or Joy

my Mother assumed

 

epic crimes from a past life

no reason for a child to be so terrified

eyes open screaming and unresponsive

my memories are of armies marching

beneath the basement floor

a dark heart beating

and then nothing

ever more.

For me, the association is there. The title is right there, too.

 

Tony

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Many, many thanks Tony! I must say, that after having been absent for a year, while the posting seems slow, the quality of critique that has grown in this community is truly astonishing! The number of careful and considered comments I have seen is quite inspiring!

 

I hope I can keep up icon_biggrin.png

 

DC

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Aleksandra

Finally Dr_con icon_smile.gif. Nice to see you here. I am glad that you think that the quality of this community has grown. We try to do our best, and to respect each other work, and I must to say, we enjoy in our wonderful community.

When I read your poem, I see that this is something different from you and I loved to read more and more.

 

Into the dark

never a battle cry

rather a vegetative rumination

on hidden motivation, priests

and magicians are to be used

ferreting out hidden public

and private sins,

The first three lines are very ironical, which makes the poem to start in the best way. The expression: " ferreting out hidden public and private sins, " gives some feeling, what makes me to jump into Catholic religion, and then is opening the poem even more to the same religion with the saying that all therapists are Jesuits.

Then, in the second stanza I got some view of freemasonry, together with the next stanza:

all therapists are Jesuits

complicit in justifying

the active principals

of privilege

 

in a painful world

4:30 am, I start

a new job, pandering

 

Then I became confused, because using the word Mother with a big M.

The omens are both good and bad

clarity, in the preverbal

is simple, Cry or Joy

my
Mother
assumed

 

epic crimes from a past life

What could be the meaning of that, so I am wondering, is that maybe, Mother in general way, maybe earth like a mother, or mother can be some high position in some hierarchy order, or just a mother, with special respect?!

However, the ending stanza is very clever expressed, very deep, not so clear, provocative, thoughtful.

no reason for a child to be so terrified

eyes open screaming and unresponsive

my memories are of armies marching

beneath the basement floor

a dark heart beating

and then nothing

ever more.

The expression for memories, is very interesting and not usual. Then the basement floor, dark heart beating, are very morbid, same as the other lines: for a child to be so terrified eyes open screaming and unresponsive.

The last two lines are most strong and most clear

and then nothing

ever more

All together, the poem itself, the punctuation, the sound, makes a compact, original poem. Like something speaks from the past, or the present is very well known since before, like everything goes on some order.

 

I love this poem, because makes me to think a lot. I can see special tone in this poem, and my thoughts are mixed. Definitely I think that this poem is written in the spirit of some fraternal organizations. I got that kind of view. Sorry, if I am out of mark, I just read in my own way, but really the poem is wonderful and rich, and gives a space to the reader.

 

Thank you DC for sharing this wonderful poem. It captured me with its power, and its enigma.

 

I loved what I read.

 

Welcome back here, and I hope you will share more from your work.

 

Have a nice time around dc

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Hi dr.

 

too many elements of immense expression are incorporated which, sometimes, make a reader confused and then compel him to rethink about why he/she is confused.

 

the starting stanza is quiet fill with the ancient concept of forceful repent of collective minds.

Into the dark

never a battle cry

rather a vegetative rumination

on hidden motivation, priests

and magicians are to be used

ferreting out hidden public

and private sins,

 

and the expression, i must say, truly excellent and clever. the cleverism follows the next stanzas and the last stanza showed very shrewd way to express a thought about how a secret crime is buried under even in a simple mind and makes it shivering time after time.

 

epic crimes from a past life

no reason for a child to be so terrified

eyes open screaming and unresponsive

my memories are of armies marching

beneath the basement floor

a dark heart beating

and then nothing

ever more.

 

but this darkness of human nature is reigning in and nothing could stop it even the catholic or Islam..........

 

and this is a nice confess of everyone icon_lol.gificon_wink.gif :

 

in a painful world

4:30 am, I start

a new job, pandering

 

waiting for another one, Dr_con.

 

RoNy

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Aleksandra, Bloody Day, many thanks for your careful and considered responses- as you can see I obliged and provided my latest creation icon_biggrin.png

I have found that sometime when being plain spoken in my poems people may become confused, but the unfolding of the poem in the reader is worth the momentary loss of reasonable landmarks...

 

Appreciate the comments and feedback!

 

DC

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Frank E Gibbard

DC I am still juggling thoughts on this one. As complex as is usual but an interesting 3 pipe problem were I Sherlock. Is the ending an alusion to Poe by the way. ? "pandering" which has a few meanings. You set the meaning bar high. It reads good which is customary. Frank

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i absorbed this poem as a dream-like piece filled with fragmented images and nuances. some fell right into my comprehension, others were less defined concepts, more like intuitive senses. the poem is lovely, abstract, powerful and stands as a piece of impressionistic literary art - thanks you... icon_surprised.gif

To receive love, you have to give it...

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Frank, Douglas appreciate the critique as always--- Frank, the Poe reference, is both accidental and deliberate- I wrote it as an appropriate last line and thought "Of course, that is a Poe nod" We must not forget the Conrad nod as well, I may not be as good as either of those literary greats, but I can steal with the best of them;-)

 

Dr. Con

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goldenlangur

Hello dr_con,

 

It has been many moons since I've read your work and what an honor and challenge it is indeed. icon_smile.gif

 

It is as if the unspoken fears and troubles of the individual elide with 'the darkness' of the larger, social, religious and cultural world. All the known representatives/symbols of civilization offer no succour to the individual - there's a sense that beneath the thin veneer of civilization, is the 'heart of darkness':

 

 

dr_con wrote:

 

Into the dark

never a battle cry

rather a vegetative rumination

on hidden motivation, priests

and magicians are to be used

ferreting out hidden public

and private sins,

 

...

 

 

You mentioned Conrad to Frank and indeed there's a Conrad-like confrontation with one's culture and civilization.

 

 

Deeply thought-provoking.

 

 

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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dr_con wrote:

 

all therapists are Jesuits

complicit in justifying

the active principals

of privilege

 

WOW!

well THIS one stopped me in my tracks!

 

what a line!!! I will ask you now, can I quote you on this? I have places where this might want to be said- where this might NEED to be said!

 

wow!

 

ok, that was the Philosophical me there...

I have, I think, a dozen or so good friends who are therapists or pastors or chaplains, of one sort or another... this was a GREAT line!

 

which now leads me to how I have to read the poem...

 

"our Dr con is a therapist himself" I said...

 

I wonder if I have that right... (?)

 

the rest of the poem makes sense from there, for me...

 

and seems like it could be WAY personal too, if Im reading it right- so- Ill go carefully here...

 

Into the dark

never a battle cry

rather a vegetative rumination

on hidden motivation, priests

and magicians are to be used

ferreting out hidden public

and private sins,

 

this speaks to ME as the client/therapist relationship... which plods along in most instances, so I hear... and for BOTH parties, really- the therapist in a way forced to go as slow as the client, even into their own inward lookings- in a way...- thus, the vegetative- and not 'battlecried' journey inward...

 

in a painful world

4:30 am, I start

a new job, pandering

 

you sure youre not one of my friends? we've had this conversation, no? icon_wink.gif

 

-------------------

 

again, what is being written here is based on an already closed assumption- Im not "guessing" any longer- Im going forward as if I "know" something- which, were I not laying these words out here now, before all, would be a VERY stupid thing to do- but here, for saying so, Im just being brave icon_razz.gif

HA!

 

ok, onward...

 

--------------------

 

The omens are both good and bad

clarity, in the preverbal

is simple, Cry or Joy

my Mother assumed

 

yes, "my Mother assumed" throws me here... but going to work, preverbal clarity of "purr" or "flinch" - this is what Im getting here...

 

(LOVING this whole thing btw- did I say that yet?)

 

and then these last lines

 

my memories ...

basement floor ...

nothing ever more ...

 

sound like events which led the teller of the poem to go into the line of work they are in... again, hinged on my assumption...

 

thank you...

 

it speaks volumes for ME, even if Ive misunderstood- and I love it- a dark inward trip to ones 'occupation', as Im reading it- that is rarely shared in this way... brave- open- and the flavor to this tongue, if I described it much more, would not sound flattering, but is absolutely perfect for what Im giving this to...

 

(is this review making ANY sense at all?

will I even publish it now that Im even hearing what Im saying?)

 

this will keep me glued to your work from here on! even if Ive 'mis-diagnosed',

 

thank you...

 

oh, and seriously, that Jesuits line- can I quote that?

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Golden, Rumi- Many thanks for your perceptive responses;-)

 

Rumi, of course you can quote me, of course when my book comes out in 2009, I'll require a Amazon URL to be appended to all quotes icon_lol.gif

 

Well, interesting, I am not a therapist by training, but I often fall into that roll- I like to paraphrase Robert Creeley when he was asked what "There was a Man" meant--- "I just wrote it, how should I know" ;-)

 

Seriously, a successful poem to me, unfolds in the reader/listener and creates meaning within the local context of consciousness, not some out there authority hierarchy--- I am glad it worked for you, and many thanks for the deep and perceptive critique;-)

 

DC

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