This has a classic ring to it and whether for good or bad I'm drawn to seeking something more in each next line which only draws me further. It's like the spider web with that apparently glistening sweet sticky stuff at the center.
One man's madness, with each being so unique as viewed from within, yet so often misunderstood by the outside world. They used to call it demons, but now they even suspect that it might be parasites (see mind control of rats, etc.) And also check out what too much caffine can do to you!
There is so much beautiful and fitting imagery packed into this poem, that it is remarkable. That first stanza slays me...setting 'lovely' against 'pandemic'...almost asserting that love is contagious, yet an immutable beauty.
It was first love that put me in the hospital the first time. One of my strangest, yet lasting memories of that place was how the paranoid schizophrenics would always have to be touching the walls as we walked the hallways to lunch or whatever. I never understood that...its as if they were making sure the walls were there or something. Anyhow, i digress, but that is why i feel that the line: "shrieking shadowed tunnels," is especially telling and appropriate. "Bier" and "rosette" are a brilliant choices of words for this writing as well. Propping up the altar of love and loss, against the ultimate loss...loss of our selves. When you said "golden bier" i thought more 'altar' than 'casket stand'...but then, that's just me.
Two things (among many) strike me about your writing. One is an ever-present, yet sometimes understated sense of 'spirit', and the other is that your poetic style is distinctive and unique. You have found your voice, and it is poignant, concise, and insightful. anyone who...at a glance...might dismiss your work as being the same (i have been accused of such)...would really be missing out on the mastery of your art. The more i think about it, the more i like this poem. It truly is remarkable. I like your style. I think i could probably favoritize them all...but i won't, just let me know when the book comes out.
I'm a big, big fan of this poem, and of your style in general
The only thing I would have to add, is I completely disagree with the people who have commented on this, in that I sincerely hope you do not change "So murdered I", I think it would detract from the poem overall, and because of the use of this inversion it lends my mind to believing this was written a long, long time ago.
What a lovely pandemic place! Madness among shrieking shadowed tunnels, parallel to love's bright haloed face.
I liked the way the first 2 lines contrast and the rest of the stanza supports that...nice rhyme and rhythm. One state of mind runs alonside another which is interesting and clever in the places it leads the reader.
So murdered I
I agree that this inversion seems out of place.
a love most dear, with tenderness laid upon a golden bier;
These lines are interesting also in that you could decipher them in different ways...a real murder, murder as a metaphor, ...maybe you were too gentle and she wanted a "man" and that's my pick.
then bone and ash remain, enflamed recumbent as that last low fire.
Loved the wording of the last 2 lines here...nice alliteration.
I agree with Jase that this section is a little awkward and it has me feeling as if the tense gets swapped.
She flew the way marbled angels fell from rosette parapets shuddering earthbound arms; molten as a lesser hell engulfed heaven in thin prismatic flames.
I really loved this stanza. It sort of gives the feeling of taking heaven away from earth and the smoke and heat from the cremation enveloping heaven.
I get the strong image of a beauty that ought to have come with a "look but don't touch" warning.
The whole thing works quite well for me. Maybe because it has that reticent quality... as if you don't really want to let anyone in on the view, if you see what I mean. It is also intellectually written and therefore stimulating as a riddle of sorts. L1S2 is archaic in its form and there is no reason for this. In my view that simply detracts from what is otherwise a very good poem. Why NOT write it as "So I murdered..."? This seems to me love gone out of control; perhaps because lust was left to run the show, and what could have been a wonderful and lasting relationship just ended in heartache. Perhaps also a comment that this has become the norm (pandemic). You're probably one of those people who birth these things semi-automatically and worry about what it says later. You should analyse it though and give us a clue as to your own interpretation, I reckon there must be undercurrents of sub-conscious thought spurring you on to express what you are unlikely to voice openly (a form of dreamtalk then). Either way, I enjoyed this - even if I perhaps completely missed the point.
I would say that someone has gone mad for doing murder, not so much the physical act of such, but perhaps the burden of "pandemic disorder" in one's home is enough to drive the sane one mad.
But I've grown used to the abstract quality your writes have, they are more like puzzles than facts about feelings. Driving home you will see a beating heart ... remember that voice is yours. Meanwhile, keep writing, I enjoy reading everything I've seen so far.
Ok, in your first line there's a touch of irony which I like. The rest of your first stanza highlights the dichotomy of madness in shadows vs. love, light and haloes.
First line of your second stanza has an interesting syntax inversion of 'I' which works for this piece. Second and fourth lines are nice rhymes and it seems like you are mourning for your murdered loved one reverently. In the last line the words 'last low' jar to me, although I would've thought the alliteration would work. Perhaps 'lowly' to flesh out the rhythm a bit nicer in that line?
Third stanza could do with a semi-colon and typo fix - 'She flew the way (marbled) angels fell from rosette parapets shuddering earthbound(;) arms, molten as a lesser hell engulfed heaven in thin prismatic flames.
I'm not sure if you meant 'earthbound arms' but it still works to separate it into two distinct parts - that's the way I actually read it, so it's up to you of course.
I hope you're taking on a persona in this poem and not speaking of personal experiences... because that would be rather creepy if you were. Lol.
This reminds me of Browning's 'My Last Duchess' whether, its the desciptive almost distanced voice of the persona, the murder or the fact that I've been thinking about portraits, I'm not quite sure. The last stanza is remarkable - the imagery stunning. I love the juxtaposition of the heavy marbled angels and rosette shaped architecture with its connotations of heavy with roses and the phrase 'shuddering earthbound' is strong. Also, the oxymoron in
arms; molten as a lesser hell engulfed heaven in thin prismatic flames.