POETRY
with Dasleah
Upon first glance of the poem one immediately brings to mind the classics of minimalism and kinetic writing - and how those poems are so much better than this. Whereas they use form, shape, flow of words from one position to the other to connect and invoke a number of feelings and connotations, this does none of that. The meaning of the poem is immediately obscured by the seemingly random placement of sentences - darting, dancing, from one side of the page to another, with seeming no reason or intent. Were the point of this seemingly epileptic placement of words to summon forth a feeling of unease and indecisiveness, of the rapid motion of one's eyes to completely unplanned and pointless areas of the page, then perhaps it can be said to work admirably in such a role. But form must not impede function, and here, form is buried under an approximate 17 tonnes of function.
Looking further at the role of capitalisation in the poem, we find that it somehow manages to spectacularly fail on levels that surely the greatest minds of our time will refuse to work on for generations to come. Capitalisation in poetry holds an important function - it denotes emphasis, boldness, volume. Where we to read this poem aloud taking those attributes into consideration, we would find ourselves doing a most awkward impersonation of a seal in heat with some manner of throat or lung infection - randomly barking, baying, and whooping up great gouts of flemmy nonsense.
To move onto the content of the poem, the immediate issue lies with the choice of title. The allusion to pace and music in no way connects to any other part of the poem and instantly we take issue with the poem lying to us. To imply such rhythm and deny it to us, to inform us of some steady, countable reason and then so deny us with a page of babble certainly inflames the passions against the author.
To continue onto the next lines "drops something, so easily lost amongst the crowd" we begin to strike at the heart of the poem. Combined with the previous mention of tapping, we can easily deduce that this poem concerns someone with some mental condition - a nervous tick or possibly obsessive-compulsive condition. Mentioning a crowd informs us of some manner of nervousness or anxiety issues. Through this, the author is informing us of their own deeply-held insecurities, afraid that the world ignores them, despite their problems that they hold so high upon a pedestal as if it is some manner of trophy or accomplishment. They take their issues and disorders and use it as a cover - an excuse, and rage against the rest of us for not acknowledging them for it. Such arrogance!
The poem's next lines - "JUST LIKE me. retreating green receding joy BUT i'm STILL HERE have you forgotten?" are a seemingly random jumble of words vomited forth onto the page. The previous stanza is certainly taken from the perspective of the author, talking to us, the reader. The 'just like me' confirms the character's need for validation and acceptance by the aforementioned 'crowd' (which we have understood to take as a larger facet - perhaps family, perhaps society, or some other social group of importance) They plead with the crowd to accept them - but notice the lower-case 'me'? Comparing it to the previous capitalisation of "JUST LIKE" this alludes that this need for acceptance and validation is thwarted by a sense of self-loathing. They do not place as much emphasis on themselves as they do the need for love - they consider themselves unworthy, unwanted, and believe this not to be the fault of the crowd, but as some integral part of their character, their very being. The last few lines here - "BUT i'm STILL HERE have you forgotten?" enforce this - notice the lower-case 'me' and the ending with a rhetorical question.
The middle lines regarding a retreating green and receding joy harken to an oft-held belief that all poetry must in some way be about nature. The imagery contributes nothing to the metaphor at hand, so is to be taken as simply confirmation of the author's own feelings of unworth and insecurity - they fall back on established tropes and norms rather than attempt originality or daring to rise against convention.
We continue onto the lines "i see myself in THEM ignored abandoned something THEY refuse to understand fear will not acknowledge." Here the character begins to rage, to hate, to rattle the cage of his actuality. Unable or perhaps unwilling to confront and alter their behaviour and issues that so isolate them from a society at large they wish to be acknowledged by, the rage out, in a most juvenile manner. They hate not for reason or logic, but because their immaturity drives them to assume that is the fault of the world around them, rather than themselves. The emphasis on 'THEM' and 'THEY' implies a strong anti-authoritarian stance, a clichéd hatred of 'The Man', some grand invisible spectre of authority that often the unimaginative and paranoid blame for the grand sum of their personal inability to contribute meaningfully to a society. This stanza informs us of the childishness of the main character - it allows us to re-read the previous stanzas in light of this revelation, revealing to us that the problems that so isolate them from their treasured social group is likely minor and perhaps too embarrassing for them to admit. They have a problem, but it is a minor and petty problem - one they refuse to acknowledge or admit, and so rather than change, they demand the world change around them.
We end the poem with the last lines "enclosed i am trapped scared Alone". Here the character undermines their previous statements - the rage, they rattle, and yet the refuse to take action. Apathy and indecisiveness traps them in their own self-enclosed world. They want to do something, but they cannot bring themselves to, through laziness or fear. They deliberately isolate themselves in some attempt to allay their fears and concerns with a persecution complex. Indeed, they are truly alone - a pathetic, small-minded, petty individual who would rather self-hate themselves into oblivion with imagined slights and insults, than ever truly amount to anything.
Overall we can see this poem ultimately tells the story of a petty and small person. They want to be part of something bigger, but ultimately fall short of any real action through their own need to feel special, to exist as king of their own created world.
I award you a D. This poem is by far not the best. It is clichéd, trite, small-minded, and lacks any true poetic soul or contributes at all to the artistic advancement of the human condition. It offers no great insights, no great commentaries about life and the delicate position of living. It is simply shallow, in every sense of the word. It is a petty thing to be taken at face-value, full of small emotions from a smaller mind.
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Topic: is this creepy? also platonic relationship starting help (Read 13068 times)