The crimes for which Jack and Paige must hang cannot be proved; nevertheless they must die. It is also true that people have been executed then found to be innocent after the fact.
The executioner is un-named, and since there are many methods of execution referred to, I assume that, in the the last verse, the guilt of carrying out an execution applies to many executioners.
The last sentence is interesting in its ambiguity: Do the images stuck in the executioner's/executioners' head cease when the victims are dead, or when the executioner/s is/are dead?
In either case, the point you make in this poem is that an executioner's conscience can drive him to killing himself.
This is a very good and thought-provoking piece of writing.
However, in my opinion, the semi-colon in the last sentence is incorrectly used.
It was a good idea to give readers the background to the story.
The fervor of Cassandra in warning her father (and brother) of the imminent war in which Troy will be destroyed by the Spartans is well illustrated and consistent.
The rhyming flows naturally throughout the poem (except in the first line, as I will comment on below).
The poem is an accurate reflection of this significant part the mythological story.
I suggest that the first line read:
"Hark! Give ear to this voice, mine,"
There should be a full stop after "win" in the fourth paragraph.
Your metaphors are interesting and very well-expressed, giving this reader a deeper understanding of the type suffering endured by people such as you.
The second last paragraph gave me even more insight: I had never before considered a part of adolescence being lost while a young person struggles with his/her identity. It also didn't occur to me that one might turn to literature and the media to relate to. You are fortunate that you live in an age when, in some places, homosexuality is exposed and normalised.
Let us hope that soon all parents will find any form of sexuality or non-sexuality completely normal, so that their children never have to "be in the closet".
I find this metaphor of life fascinating. What an unusual idea!
To me a significant phrase is, "where hearts are bordered". The limits that we set ourselves determine the extent of experience.
The following lines are interesting:
"...the bill is split each way
Regardless what you ate"
I'm thinking about the nature of the payment, one that is split evenly. It must be death. For the privilege of being born and growing at least as far as adulthood, we all give up our lives (whether voluntarily or involuntarily).
Your story is vivid, with good character description and a picture of the squalor in which the poor live ("The man is seated at the edge of the road with a drain flowing with the discharge from the houses nearby.) You have given the reader an insight into the minds of "rural folk, illiterate, bound in blind faith and generally gullible."
The shrewdness of the parrot-man is correctly understated, but is obvious to the reader. You have also managed to convey to the reader the parrot-man's acting ability, which includes his clever sense of timing.
I notice a number of errors in the piece. Here are some examples:
"slowdown" - should be two words.
"cries frequently calling upon the passers-by to have their future predicted." I would put a comma after "cries".
"parts with a few coins which is gleefully accepted" - "is should be "are".
"it so happened that this very customer happened to meet" - I would use "happened" only once in the sentence.
"His jaws fall" - should be "His jaw falls" (It is only the lower jaw that can move in this way.)
For my own interest, I did an exercise and changed the sequence of your verses as follows:
Is it so precious,
or fear of dark,
or a debt unpaid
what force drives you?
To strain your sight,
your mind, your will,
holding fast, slipping away
from such a labored life.
Trying to grasp present faces,
memories fleeting, found, then lost
like the fading foam
of a beer glass emptied.
Doubled over,
short of breath,
each swollen step
is aching torture.
So much endured
to fiercely cling
to an ember in ashes
flickering
Looking at the 'new' order, I now see more significance and intention in 'your' poem and these lie in the first and last lines of your poem, "So much endured" and "such a labored life"
It seems that your reverent curiosity is somewhat related to the man's clinging to life in spite of "a laboured life" in which he had to "endure" "so much".
The title of your story is rather optimistic. I hope that your dream comes true.
I'm from the opposite side of the world from the USA, but on TV I've listened to and watched the plight of people who do not "strictly" belong there. Yours is a chilling piece of evidence. Why you, a law-abiding contributor to the country, were subjected to this horrific experience is - as you say - "inexplicable".
A lighter side to your story is in your sardonic comments about suicide not being allowed - unless, of course, it has already been committed by the time they check in on you. In such a case the perpetrator is probably not even punished!
Thank you for relating your experience and in the process giving insight into the sad ordeals of others at the hands of the ICE.
Your story does indeed shed "some light on the happenings taking place in a country many believed held their hopes and dreams."
Your poem is comprehensive. It gives the reader a good insight into the work and life of a rickshaw puller.
In my opinion, your descriptions are very good.
I do however, pick up what seems to be a contradiction:
In the fourth verse you write that his face is "Shorn of all human grace". In the second last verse you write, "Watch his eyes and the toothless smile/
Which are genuine and without guile".
In addition, I'm not sure whether the future the man wishes for is,
"...a tin shed
With an old mattress for a bed,
A door strong to hold a lock
Which can stand the force of a rock,
An oil lamp to provide light,
Which may not be very bright,
But enough to make everything visible"
or whether he already lives like this.
If this is the future he hopes for, then it would have been interesting to read how he lives now.
I would like to suggest that you structure your writing so that there is no ambiguity.
Until reading it I always knew of two certainties in life: You will pay tax, and you will die. The third certainty, I only considered after reading this piece: Time passes by.
Just playing around with your three paragraph I thought of the following, much shorter, piece of writing on the same subject.
A Moment
a moment it is
it passes us by
in the blink of an eye
Note that the my 'poem' makes use of the last words in each of your paragraphs.
"Seize the moment!" - with apologies to Robin Williams.
I agree with you: A three-lined poem can say a lot and sum the main activity and achievement of the day. We know you worked hard, we know what work was done, and we know why.
What an original way of journalising! I hope that you date each journal entry for future reference - you might need to know when last your plants received that special fertilizer!
I see a determined effort to include rhyming in this poem.
The picture you've created of conditions before, during and after the curfew are realistic.
My favourite phrases include:
The city burned
Black smoke rose
Spiralling into the sky
Parol vehicles
Criss-crossed the roads
For days three, people were not free
The streets were bare
The city came alive
When folk came out and moved about
Each writer has his own style, but I believe that the main difference between prose and poetry is that poetry is more concise, saying a lot but using fewer, well chosen words.
When I look at my favourite phrases, above, I feel that they in themselves form a poem.
The repetition does not detract from its beauty, nor is it very evident as it goes well with the flow.
Your poem also tells a story.
The lines which you repeat are well-chosen: The hastiness of the shadows crossing the moon contrast with the nostalgic line, "dim silhouettes of days gone by."
I like the way you introduce your idea of escaping from the world we live in. "You know what?" It's as if this idea has just struck you.
This escape would be wonderful if you could achieve all you would like to achieve. It seems to me, though, that living in another place is a fantasy of yours.
I don't know how much time you have to concentrate on correcting misspelled words, but if you could give your work a little bit more attention in this regard, you would attract more a higher rating.
"Better", I realise after reading this poem, is an almost universal desire. Most of us think about experiencing or doing something better, or being better.
All the groups and characters represented in your poem exist, and you have depicted them with accuracy, leaning toward pity for some and mockery and distaste for others.
I sense cynicism on the part of the writer of this poem, in the sense that "Cynicism is not a hopeful spirit..." This quotation is taken from Rick Thomas.
I don't like what happened to you and to Eve, but I do think that you have described the situation in which you both were before, during and after the ordeal, very well.
It seems to me that partying and drinking often precede sexual abuse, but at the age of fifteen, and long before the "Me Too" movement, you could not know this.
You make an interesting comparison between Eve's manner after the event and your own.
A question I am asking myself: Would "jokester" be more fitting than "joker"?
I'm wondering whether you are referring to a personal battle within yourself, or some tension in a relationship.
Three things in particular lead me to this interpretation:
"It was never right"
“Enemy stampeding!” being in quotation marks. The quotation marks imply to me that this phrase should not be taken literally.
"darkness resides", that is the problem still exists.
That leaves me to question the meaning of "Silent night" and "Silence lied".
Would you care to tell me the actual meaning of your poem?
In the first two lines there is a contrast between "Bow" and "Rise", which is effective.
The ritual is emphasised in the words" "lying loyally at your feet." "Loyally" implies that this is repeated behaviour, and has never left the rider down.
I love the expression "Wrap ... around the barrel of your steed".
The sense of comfort quiet and joy appeal to me - a contrast to this frentic world.
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