10-17-2017, 11:15 AM
Hi YJack123, this poem drew me in because I relate to it to a degree. When I read the 2nd line I guessed it’s about addiction and sure enough it turned out to be. The next two lines reminded me of the theory that addictions are a thinking disease and although they are biological to an extent (genetic predispositions), addicts more so decide to continue using/ drinking through cognitive dissonance and other forms of denial and justification. I suggest revising lines 3 and 4 to make either denial or justification clearer; express what you know is right and an your inability to do what’s right.
The last line in the 2nd stanza could be strengthened in the same way, by expressing what causes the repeated choice that sets you apart from others… 'regular’ or ‘normal’ people.
I agree with the previous critiquer that the 3rd stanza seems to be a paradox, and it’s kind of understandable to me because the poem is a bit of a paradox as a whole in that you know what’s better for you but you’re more comfortable or at “peace” being high. The stanza also reminds me of spiritual or religious help often used in recovery programs. I envision someone accepting 12-step work and being born again and allowing social connection and compassion temporarily, on the surface, but deep in the “soul” they are disconnected from genuine belief and community and “Satan’s” “dope” feeds and sustains this disconnection. I think the last line of the stanza should be re-worked a bit, or re-work it and the line above it to more clearly explain the “heart” and “soul” lines.
The 4th stanza is unabashed and understandable—and quite eerie. The 5th and 6th stanzas seem like they can be switched around for effect. In the earlier line “My wicked tongue, sharp and twitchy, is just his toy,” you allude to not having full control over your thoughts, statements and actions. The distorted reality clouds your perceptions and judgment, so those you perceive as functioning relatively responsibly or normally while on the “tightrope” may not be as balanced as they seem and look. Lastly, I rearranged the lines just to see how meaning can be played with, especially ending the poem with assurance of others’ addiction management through the eyes of an addict. Very nice poem, good luck with revisions.
There are those who can walk the tightrope,
But there’s no balance in my soul.
When I am flying on that pipe smoke,
It seems the only peace I know.
Some do quite well upon that tightrope,
There are those, lithe and clever, who never fall.
When I am flying on that good dope.
I am assured that I know it all.
The last line in the 2nd stanza could be strengthened in the same way, by expressing what causes the repeated choice that sets you apart from others… 'regular’ or ‘normal’ people.
I agree with the previous critiquer that the 3rd stanza seems to be a paradox, and it’s kind of understandable to me because the poem is a bit of a paradox as a whole in that you know what’s better for you but you’re more comfortable or at “peace” being high. The stanza also reminds me of spiritual or religious help often used in recovery programs. I envision someone accepting 12-step work and being born again and allowing social connection and compassion temporarily, on the surface, but deep in the “soul” they are disconnected from genuine belief and community and “Satan’s” “dope” feeds and sustains this disconnection. I think the last line of the stanza should be re-worked a bit, or re-work it and the line above it to more clearly explain the “heart” and “soul” lines.
The 4th stanza is unabashed and understandable—and quite eerie. The 5th and 6th stanzas seem like they can be switched around for effect. In the earlier line “My wicked tongue, sharp and twitchy, is just his toy,” you allude to not having full control over your thoughts, statements and actions. The distorted reality clouds your perceptions and judgment, so those you perceive as functioning relatively responsibly or normally while on the “tightrope” may not be as balanced as they seem and look. Lastly, I rearranged the lines just to see how meaning can be played with, especially ending the poem with assurance of others’ addiction management through the eyes of an addict. Very nice poem, good luck with revisions.
There are those who can walk the tightrope,
But there’s no balance in my soul.
When I am flying on that pipe smoke,
It seems the only peace I know.
Some do quite well upon that tightrope,
There are those, lithe and clever, who never fall.
When I am flying on that good dope.
I am assured that I know it all.