OK what I read in this is that mankind is so busy congratulating itself on all our "progress" that we have completely forgotten to look behind us to see what destruction lies in our wake. And then we wonder where all this "new" crap comes from that we have to overcome.
Ok so that was more of an interpretation than a ctitique, but the pedestal I've put you on makes critiquing a little difficult! LOL
My REAL Critique: awesome! way cool! you rock! etc.
My attempt at an intelligent critique:
Your extensive vocabulary continually blows my mind(and I'm NOT referring to your use of the word "smegma" lol). And as always, your alliteration gives it such a smooth read aloud quality a la manifest impenitence of men.
You do write poetry as if you indeed believe poetry is meant to be read aloud. Congratulations on another good one.
This is a really interesting poem and worth reading over a number of times but I can grasp why it hasn't had so many hits. Perhaps the grand imagery is difficult for people to imagine 'nature pulses' is rather abstract and that apocalyptic conclusion is not an easy concept.
I really like the sibilance and m and n alliteration they lend a kind of whispering bitterness that is very effective and the
smegma of nations
rising like lechers
does as Icarus states reflect your disgust.
I've been waiting for someone to use the word "smegma" in context ever since I saw Red Dwarf. Mostly just because then I could make some really bad jokes.
But (lucky you) I've been waiting so long for that that I've lost the desire for crudity and simply rejoice in it's use.
The ghosts of the empires toasting man's continued lack of repentance and unwillingness to change, pushing ever onward, forward, their own monuments being destroyed by that same force which destroyed them... the ghosts reinforcing that which they see still continuing, that which they see in themselves, the cursed rejoicing in the cursed... well, misery loves company and all that.
God, what a dismal view.
And all the by-products (smeg!) of their lustrous, self-degrading degraders (using that which will destroy them to destroy others... I'm hung up on that idea) will be... not destroyed, but hushed... buried under... built on top of... flames. Flames usually signal death & rebirth... here it's neither... but the possibility of both exists.
Thant's what I get from this. And I'm astounded by the completeness of what I saw at first as fragmentary. The title "unfinished" ... at first seems to refer to the poem, yet what it speaks of is also unfinished... I wonder if we will ever finish it. This could be the cycle (the complete cycle mind you) that we have gone through, again and again, starting at the beginning, but it could also birth something beautiful....
Why aren't there more comments on this? I'm adding it to my favorites.
This poem blatently deserves more than the silence of commentless apathy it seems to currently be receiving. Perhaps there's a shortage of thoughts at the moment?
So, the first strope. To me the key idea seems to be "forgotten lessons". Despite all the mistakes of human history that with hindsight we should so easily learn from and certainly not repeat. Instead of learning through trial and error history is much more a frustrating trial of error, if put in terms of a lame pun. "nature pulses" - your use of "nature" makes me think it's a natural curse, that men can't break away from the foolish way they're destined to behave.
In the second strope I really like the word "smegma", the disgusting imagery of it really seems to reflect your disgust in a most... vivid way. The ending, the hushed by flames, seems to me to be quite destructive. Not pointlessly destructive, but in a way that makes room for a new start. A new day.