Poetry contest poem

[ktd222]

This poem was my latest entry to the poetry contest. Any comments?




Fundamentally we do not exist.
Compare Nature in our being:
the light which spirals in
to shape our hands shapes
the motion of Her grace,
and spills dawn, and noon, and evening light
into our bodies, shaping, Her radiance,
and whirls our legs, in stars, in bright stars, Her elegance;
and our looks, like blocks projecting:
black black black black black

[blp]

Really really good, ktd. Mellifluous and wonderfully adroitly syntactically odd.

[ktd222]

Thanks blp! I hoped someone would recognize the contrasts in rhythm, syntax, sound, and as dramasnot6 pointed out – color.
The idea behind this poem was that the dancer’s expressions were not their own; that what was being expressed was of Nature’s doing; that we, fundamentally, - are expressionless.
Of course I’m thankful for Auto’s comments. But the abruptness in the two ending lines – both in sound, image, syntax, rhythm – were required to show these contrasts. Repeating “black” three times, in my ear, still sounds rhythmic. Repeating “black” five times, - I started getting the sense of a more monotonous, drawn out, constant, non-melodic sound.

[Virgil]

I don't claim to understand the internal logic, but I do like it as a poem. I really like these lines:

the light which spirals in
to shape our hands shapes
the motion of Her grace,
and spills dawn, and noon, and evening light

Very nice.

[Adolescent09]

I think it's a pretty great poem.... It's nothing very exceptional, but great none the less. I like the flow, the black black black black black... and the curt verses. Nice

[Il Penseroso]

I do think this is exceptional, not in a traditional way, but in a unique view of aesthetics. Not swamped by opstreperous (thanks Adol!) language, it has a nice cumulative effect. Grand style.

[ktd222]

Thanks for the kind words, Virgil.
Adol - I’ll take a compliment, or rather half-compliment, whenever I can get it.;)
Il Penseroso - I’m glad you appreciate how much aesthetics adds to developing the climactic affect of an idea expressed in a poem.


the light which spirals in
to shape our hands shapes
the motion of Her grace,
and spills dawn, and noon, and evening light
into our bodies, shaping, Her radiance,
and whirls our legs, in stars, in bright stars, Her elegance

I'm interested to hear what people thought about this specific portion.