Poetry Forum

Louis A G W - all messages by user

3/16/2020 2:03:53 AM
Baudrillardian Echo by Louis A G W	Dear All, This is my first ever poem. It is inspired by, as stated within, a dream. Having time to form it into word is a consequence of being unable to work and being stuck in China! My background is Anthropology, hence the title being a verbal phrase formed of two Sociologists surnames - any knowledge of their work would really help clarify my intent - but after numerous revisions I hope this work: a) qualifies as a poem(!)b) has merit c) a message that is abstract yet discernible to the common reader d) a clear direction of time and coherent continuity. Any sincere critique will be gratefully received. Many thanks. Baudrillardian Echo I awoke this morning with a profound vision of a painting. A sort of Baroque ensemble of consequence, still lingering upon my conscience. I've put it to pen, since it's quicker than painting. The contortion of life via exploitation, from sacred to the profane: To live most natural is to imbibe from the elements of nature. The canvas sets a scene of rolling hills from back to foreground untouched, except gaze. Some people admire the warmth of the sun, kissed by the rays. Peaceful, unadultered, not yet restrained. To desire another is to co-opt, to milk, to press grapes with the other. Across, others sip wine. Enrolled in playful acts of elation. Now seeing the reward natures vines of harvest provide them. No longer new. Able to take advantage of balmy days. To groom the weeds of the idle think industry men. Striving to lay ownership of all in front of them. In the lowest right of the work, barely within the frame. A darkened coloration of auburn, perhaps a trees shade. A wizened few smoke-rounded, toke in orchestration. Contriving and prioritizing alternative ways. There but not present. Daydreaming our dreams of past days away. To metamorphose love into self-loathing. We now synthesize the serotonin. Outside of the frame is the simulacra. The fought rights of the worker became frayed. We peddle our fortunes, distracted with nonsense. Killing ourselves to capture something. All of the while, running away. Business as usual, each to their own. Ignoring the troubles that lead us astray. What is The End?
3/18/2020 10:10:09 AM
I would really appreciate an feedback: Baudrillard	Baudrillardian Echo I awoke this morning with a profound vision of a painting. A sort of Baroque ensemble of consequence, still lingering upon my conscience. I've put it to pen, since it's quicker than painting. The contortion of life via exploitation, from sacred to the profane: To live most natural is to imbibe from the elements of nature. The canvas sets a scene of rolling hills from back to foreground untouched, except gaze. Some people admire the warmth of the sun, kissed by the rays. Peaceful, unadultered, not yet restrained. To desire another is to co-opt, to milk, to press grapes with the other. Across, others sip wine. Enrolled in playful acts of elation. Now seeing the reward natures vines of harvest provide them. No longer new. Able to take advantage of balmy days. To groom the weeds of the idle think industry men. Striving to lay ownership of all in front of them. In the lowest right of the work, barely within the frame. A darkened coloration of auburn, perhaps a trees shade. A wizened few smoke-rounded, toke in orchestration. Contriving and prioritizing alternative ways. There but not present. Daydreaming our dreams of past days away. To metamorphose love into self-loathing. We now synthesize the serotonin. Outside of the frame is the simulacra. The fought rights of the worker became frayed. We peddle our fortunes, distracted with nonsense. Killing ourselves to capture something. All of the while, running away. Business as usual, each to their own. Ignoring the troubles that lead us astray. What is The End?
3/23/2020 12:38:54 AM
Baudrillardian Echo by Louis A G W	Jack Webster, I send immsurable respect your way. That was more than I had hoped for and I truly appreciate you taking the time to critique my work. I admit some of the nomenclature is not of my milieu, but I am going to make a conserted effort to use your feedback constructively. Please forgive me if this reads a little 'syrupy' or sycophantic, but I got more than I had bargained for, in quality and content. I will post an adjusted version at some point in the near future and I hope you can find the time to opine. Thanks again, Louis Wilkes.
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