<center>challenge the warp of light snatching tears from willows bent towards hell</center>
animating the word
disneyfing the world
taking platinum scissors
reassembling reality
the time has arisen
as the moon sets
behind broken clouds
steamed by poison clocks
ticking away at illusions
sapping breath like a thief
hiding in darkened corners
bestowing glory on trickery
as if lies bent throats
clever enough to choke
whispers of dandelion roars
escaping the fondue glue
holding roman tongues in
frozen escapades of tombstone
folly rejoicing at sunsets
demarcating light from blindness
the challenge is nothing
sworn to the alleviation of reflections
masquerading as parrots on perches
made of cardboard trees enveloping
the eaves of rodent dens in
back alley doom towns alive
with the dismembering decay
of dreams turned into nightmares
swear to gods in lost languages
defining the principles of tangier
in times of drought & pestilence
time spins in archaic anima
disposing of moments
like they were kleenex
torn from childhood memory
wiping away the stain of recollections
gathered from years of ignorance
seeking relief from the prodigals
both false and shiny in their
amorous feathers of laughter
tickling the armpits of destiny
cecil
challenge the warp of light snatching tears from willows...
- Doreen Peri
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An imperative. Challenge what? Tears that snatch the warp or light.challenge the warp of light snatching tears from willows bent towards hell
The tears are from willows, willows bent toward hell. Hell is usually but not always associated with underground so we might focus on the branches and leaves pointing or bending downwards, not the actual trunk.
While it's certainly true that tears warp light and we have weeping willows, the problem comes, I think whether we are supposed to see the warp from tears or the warp from willow leaves. My own inclination is to go with tears or dew dripping from the leaves.
So, challenge the view of a world through water. See the world for what it is.
A tall order if you ask me (actually, I don't think it's all that tall but that's another issue).
What does the rest of the poem do?
We have no subject and it's therefore unclear what is actually being said here. Presumably, somebody is reassembling the world using platinum scissors (the editor in Hollywood?). As an association drill, it follows quite clearly, as a coherent thought, well . . . .animating the word
disneyfing the world
taking platinum scissors
reassembling reality
The biggest problem I see is that somebody isn't doing a very good job of reassembling reality as the speaker can see through the reassemblance. This and I get the feeling that Disney films are seen in a bad light here. I disagree.
Again, associatively, the lines fit together very well. I'm tempted to see this as a montage of Hollywood films (say on Oscar night). Still, I'm struck with the apparent distaste of the speaker with his subject matter:the time has arisen
as the moon sets
behind broken clouds
steamed by poison clocks
ticking away at illusions
sapping breath like a thief
hiding in darkened corners
bestowing glory on trickery
as if lies bent throats
clever enough to choke
whispers of dandelion roars
escaping the fondue glue
holding roman tongues in
frozen escapades of tombstone
folly rejoicing at sunsets
demarcating light from blindness
'as if lies bent throats'
'demarcating light from blindness'
'ticking away at illusions'
'sapping breath as a thief'
'tombstone folly/rejoicing at sunsets'
Again and again? True, one could argue that it is not the attitude of the speaker, but the subject itself that creates such choices, but I find that a bit farfetched. Suffice to say, the speaker is unhappy with what he sees.
And we have a significant change of syntax here. Is there a momentary change of heart with half meaning presented by 'the challenge is nothing'? Perhaps, but quickly we return to the discontented theme, 'nothing/sworn to the alleviation of reflections /masquerading as parrots on perches'the challenge is nothing
sworn to the alleviation of reflections
masquerading as parrots on perches
made of cardboard trees enveloping
the eaves of rodent dens in
back alley doom towns alive
with the dismembering decay
of dreams turned into nightmares
The speaker has no interest in alleviating what? Parrots and Mickey Mouse houses, Toontowns, or Disney animation in reverse? I would suggest that much of what is being criticized here is already there (as best exemplified by the numerous stories documenting Snow White's life after her prince take her away to the castle), but that's just me. It also may be true that these are specific allusions to scenes or whatnot from specific films. Fine.
Baudrillard has argued somewhere that Disneyland is more real than the 'real world'. While I'll be first to concede that I'm not sure I understand what he means, my own gloss is that Disneyland or cartoons are 'more real' precisely because they are made to look unreal. My daughter, even when she was younger, had no problems differentiating cartoons from the real world. She saw it as play and that was what comforted her. It is unclear to me whether adults can do the same thing when dealing with advertising or government propaganda or opposition spinning. I'm not sure I can. Trigger the right words for me and I often tend to fall for it hook, line, and sinker.
This is probably the best part of the poem. I read this first as Tangier[s] but, given the rules, that simply cannot be so. It must be tangier as in tangy. The sheer nonsense of discussing the principles of tangier as in what has more spice in times of drought and pestilence is a perfect postmodernishly earnest moment. Well done.swear to gods in lost languages
defining the principles of tangier
in times of drought & pestilence
Well done as Tangiers is not suffering from drought or pestilence at the moment, but as a synedoche for Africa it can very well be read that way.
Personally, I think you should have ended it with the previous strophe as this covers yet more discontent (Do I really have to make another list?) and you rely on 'of' prepositional phrases far too much for it to have much impact. It seems like you finally figured out what it is that you were writing about and then decided that it needed to be explained.time spins in archaic anima
disposing of moments
like they were kleenex
torn from childhood memory
wiping away the stain of recollections
gathered from years of ignorance
seeking relief from the prodigals
both false and shiny in their
amorous feathers of laughter
tickling the armpits of destiny
It doesn't.
Now, with all that said, I quite enjoyed this.
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