Mind - Audio File and Text

[Owl]

I posted this in the wrong forum initially, so I hope it's alright that I post this again in a different forum. I deleted my other thread, but I don't know if I somehow could have had the crits from that thread moved to this one? Or if that's necessary? I don't know... I put them at the bottom of this post just in case.

Audio File Here: -removed-
Or here (no download needed): -removed-

Edit #1

Mind

The cerebral atrophy, it inhibits me,  
though my liquid spirit isn't bothered.
I need to take a puff from your pipe,
because this clean air chokes of what
I lack . . . my body alone is not enough.
All I'm left with is those unblinking eyes,
glaring, staining my flesh with its mark.

The elders drew symbols over that impression,
commanding its defection.
Briefly, the entity no longer looked my way,
for the rain had mercy on my being
and showered its twin black pearls with a divine blight.
Immediate cataracts, then a buried fiend,
it was sent back to the pit.

Now I'm eating up knowledge alone,
making myself full of what I once knew.
A mistake waiting . . . waiting to happen.
Inadvertently causing my own pulse to,
fump, fump . . . fump . . . fump.
Again, the damned crawls back to me,
tracing along my body's purple vines,
slowly forming a familiar mark.
The art piece betrays; it becomes hollow,
now replaying its seemingly perpetual course.

I was made for this mistake.

Original:

Mind

The cerebral atrophy, it inhibits me,  
though my liquid spirit isn't bothered.
I need to take a puff from your pipe,
because this clean air chokes of what
I lack . . . my body alone is not enough.
All I'm left with is those unblinking eyes,
glaring, sealing my flesh with their mark.

The elders drew symbols over these wounds,
commanding their defection.
Briefly, they no longer could look my way,
for the rain had mercy on my being
and showered their twin black pearls with a divine blight.
Immediate cataracts, then buried fiends,
they were sent back to the pit,
no longer my burden to bare.

Now I'm eating up compassion alone,
making myself full of what I once knew.
A mistake waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting to happen.
Inadvertently causing my own pulse to,
fump, fump . . . fump . . . fump.
Again, their hands trace my body's purple vines,
and the blade forms a precise figure.
My art piece betrays; it becomes hollow,
now concluding its seemingly short course.

I was made for this mistake.

very sci fi and trippy.
hi owl, thanks for the feedback you gave elsewhere, we have a miscellaneous forum for spoken word poetry etc.
where you might get a bit more feedback on the poem. normally i always point out excess word usage but this poem; it inhibits me

i got somewhat lost near the end and to be honest need a little less ambiguity in the middle. i voice seems perfect for the poem though as i said, i'd like to understand some of what's going on. i think there's the making of a really good poem from a fairly small edit.

Mind

The cerebral atrophy, it inhibits me,  i like the first line and the it after the comma, it adds a weirdness irregardless of the vocals.
though my liquid spirit isn't bothered.
I need to take a puff from your pipe,
because this clean air chokes of what really i like the enjambment  both sentences work independent of each other as well as together, it's a great pause.
I lack . . . my body alone is not enough.
All I'm left with is those unblinking eyes, should it be [are left with]?
glaring, sealing my flesh with their mark.

The elders drew symbols over these wounds, what wounds?
commanding their defection.
Briefly, they no longer could look my way, looked might be a better way to say it.
for the rain had mercy on my being
and showered their twin black pearls with a divine blight.
Immediate cataracts, then buried fiends,
they were sent back to the pit,
no longer my burden to bare.this line is cliche i like the word usage but i see little of what the stanza means

Now I'm eating up compassion alone,
making myself full of what I once knew.
A mistake waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting to happen. for me two waiting's work better than three.
Inadvertently causing my own pulse to,
fump, fump . . . fump . . . fump. i like the visuals of the line and sounds.
Again, their hands trace my body's purple vines,
and the blade forms a precise figure.
My art piece betrays; it becomes hollow,
now concluding its seemingly short course.

I was made for this mistake.

Hi Owl and thanks for the read.  As this is novice critique I will keep it short.  You have a nice style of writing here, some great lines.  But the issue I had with the poem was, connection.  By this I mean, I couldn't attribute the imagery to anything, so found myself liking the words but unable to feel any sort of emotion for them.
But as I have said, some great line in there.  I really loved your first!

Edit:  I went and had a listen to the audio just now.  After listening, it makes more sense.  I see what you where doing; but I still stand by my "connection" issue but now I feel it's more got to do with not enough of the story being giving to use.  It feels as if it is an excerpt from a larger story and we're missing all the important information that will let use know the, where, why, who, and when.  Of course this is just my opinion and I hope it is in some way helpful.

[billy]

that's fine owl, and thanks :J:

[coy]

I posted this in the wrong forum initially, so I hope it's alright that I post this again in a different forum. I deleted my other thread, but I don't know if I somehow could have had the crits from that thread moved to this one? Or if that's necessary? I don't know... I put them at the bottom of this post just in case.

Audio File Here: https://www.dropbox.com/s/l7nd2kmuiwp0og...l.mp3?dl=0
Or here (no download needed): https://soundcloud.com/owl-poetry/mind-owl

Edit #1

Mind

The cerebral atrophy, it inhibits me,  
though my liquid spirit isn't bothered. the most elegant way I've heard someone express their inebriation.
I need to take a puff from your pipe,
because this clean air chokes of what
I lack . . . my body alone is not enough. your body is not enough for what?
All I'm left with is those unblinking eyes,
glaring, staining my flesh with its mark.

The elders drew symbols over that impression,
commanding its defection.
Briefly, the entity no longer looked my way, when you say "the entity", do you mean God, or an omnipresent being?
for the rain had mercy on my being
and showered its twin black pearls with a divine blight.
Immediate cataracts, then a buried fiend,
it was sent back to the pit. okay, i'm lost here

Now I'm eating up knowledge alone,
making myself full of what I once knew. nice
A mistake waiting . . . waiting to happen.
Inadvertently causing my own pulse to,
fump, fump . . . fump . . . fump.
Again, the damned crawls back to me,
tracing along my body's purple vines,
slowly forming a familiar mark.
The art piece betrays; it becomes hollow,
now replaying its seemingly perpetual course.

I was made for this mistake.

I got really lost about halfway through. Was this mistake of the speaker losing her virginity, doing drugs, or am I the one making a mistake here?   There was to much idea hopping and ambiguity for me to understand what was going on. You have some beautiful lines in there though.

I listened to the audio and it scared the hell out of me. Reminds me of a horror movie.

[Owl]

Thank you for the crit, coy!
And I hope that means you liked the audio-- I think the tone/audio effects are pretty fitting for this particular poem.

[ray]

Apart from the middle verse, where I got lost, I found it interesting, intriguing. First verse especially.

because this clean air chokes of what  - shouldn't it be off not of?

All I'm left with is those unblinking eyes,   - are not is

Briefly, the entity no longer looked my way,
for the rain had mercy on my being
and showered its twin black pearls with a divine blight.
Immediate cataracts, then a buried fiend,
it was sent back to the pit.                         

Not a clue what you're on about and it's not so brief, either.

[J.C. Fontenot]

i agree with what the previous post, Ray, said about :
"Briefly, the entity...Back to the pit"
Maybe using a different image to portray the "twin black pearls" or offer a note about your meaning at the end of your poem.
i like the caesura you used with the "Fump.." of the heart.
Good writing!

[Owl]

Thank you so much Ray and J.C. Fontenot, I appreciate your feedback.

I'll post a newly revised version soon.

[Brownlie]

[quote='Owl' pid='176918' dateline='1413787384']

Overall, I thought this was pretty cool. Though it lacks any clear tactile sensation. Thematically this poem could be good, dealing with the state of the spectral in art and philosophy and so forth, or maybe something else I wasn't sure what it was about. If it was just trying to be spooky with a lot of morbid imagery that may hinder the poem.

Edit #1

Mind

The cerebral atrophy, it inhibits me,  -- While I do like a good parenthetical comma because it adds a certain type of sound, I think cerberal atrophy evokes inhibition in itself. 
though my liquid spirit isn't bothered.
I need to take a puff from your pipe,
because this clean air chokes of what
I lack . . . my body alone is not enough.
All I'm left with is those unblinking eyes,
glaring, staining my flesh with its mark.

The elders drew symbols over that impression, -- Maybe something to do with the oracles of Delphi?
commanding its defection.  --- This line seems a little out of place with the rhyme which marks defection (I think impression is strong but I don't know about defection)
Briefly, the entity no longer looked my way,
for the rain had mercy on my being
and showered its twin black pearls with a divine blight. -- I like twin black pearls and even the word divine, but i think the word "blight" is really hurting this line. 
Immediate cataracts, then a buried fiend,
it was sent back to the pit.

Now I'm eating up knowledge alone, -- I like the idea of eating.
making myself full of what I once knew.
A mistake waiting . . . waiting to happen.
Inadvertently causing my own pulse to,
fump, fump . . . fump . . . fump.
Again, the damned crawls back to me,
tracing along my body's purple vines,
slowly forming a familiar mark.
The art piece betrays; it becomes hollow,
now replaying its seemingly perpetual course.  -  You may be able to use the word "corpse" here or even corpus if that doesn't impede your meter or message too much. A rigid body may give the poem an opposition to the liquid spirit or a Telos for a congealing apparition.  


I was made for this mistake. -- This sounds sort of like a Frankenstein thing, but it is rather explicit and possibly to general. So, I'm not sure about this last line. Though, it may be good to have a line like this to wrap things up in a structural manner.



Overall, I liked the poem. So I made some haphazard comments, and I may have missed your point here.