This would would work well as a pastiche of a sixties performance poet.
Shattering... US!
I'm sorry but I just can't take capitalised endings seriously. It's like signposting: here comes the important bit!
The poem does come across as somewhat self-important. The repitition, the single words to a line, the inversions: this is poetry that wants you to know it is poetry. Sometimes, a little understatement goes a long way.
And what does: "Me, whose he was" mean?
I'd like to read more of your stuff - do you have anything more accessible, less abstract? Have you tried writing any poems that are not so open?
This one left me cold.
Joe
I wouldn't suggest you replace it with anything. I'd like to read you trying something different is all: how about a sestina? or a narrative poem? or a sonnet? or a prose poem?
It just strikes me that there are alot of poems on ABC like yours. Press the random story button and I guarantee there will be a lot of poems - much worse than yours - that go something like this:
My heart
rots
burns
ablaze.
This world
falls
turns
my gaze.
Finally,
if only,
US.
Heart-breaking. They might all be genius but then again, they might not.
I'd just like to see something a bit different, that's all. Experiment with rhyme, with form, with details, with history, with characters, with confessionalism etc etc.
Up for the challenge?
Joe
Tyler King
Tyler King