Originally Posted by
idealizt
Scarlet Letter or a Badge of Honor?
Now. I look at this title and I wonder... I immediately thought of the slut-stud debate, guess that's just how the mind works I suppose. However, when I read your piece it doesn't really have that connotation. At least, not from what I see. Also the sense of good and evil, black and white (red vs blue kind of screams a dark vs light star wars comparison). It's an eye-catching, thoughtful title. Already has us asking questions.
Embarrassed evil
loathes laughingstock legacy;
harbors horror's hopes.
Embarrassed evil. An interesting concept you've got here. Evil, or an evil figure embarrassed of itself. It loathes the legacy of humiliation it has yet still holds hope for the horror it can bring. I like the imagery that's implied in my mind from this. The two alliterations are smooth and this stanza in itself is a fantastic start. We call it the hook, and you've hooked me.
Borderline personality
where boredom lies
in a borderlying city.
Boarded shrines
formerly immortalized
dethroned of ordered sitting.
Borderline personality... (disorder?). I do like the usage of multiple b's. The smooth continuity of the letters and slight alliteration kept with this gives me a smooth flow. Rhyme scheme mostly fits, I think some are not as smooth as others. Seems like ABAB rhyming here. But borderline personality and border lying city don't quite roll of the tongue together, you know? Still, I'm not docking serious points off for rhyme schemes and rhymes. But, if you want flawless flow then choosing the words more selectively should probably be a priority if you don't want the reader to stumble. Having pauses and blocks in the flow are good; when they're done for effect. Anyway, I still enjoyed this block here. I get this out with the old and in with the new kind of feel.' Boarded shrines' speak of old temples and churches long forgotten. Old values buried by newer days. Morality lost?
Through clinched teeth,
misguided miscreants
expect minced meat
from a master of disguise
selling lies in the street
indiscriminately.
Again with the similar lettering and pieces of alliteration. I like it. Misguided miscreants in particular. Everyone we know who harbors a sort of gangster or thuggish mentality acts like they're tough and that's how they're supposed to be. Living a life that was taught to them, but they're kids. They're too naive to know they've been misguided. Master of disguise on the streets... he's experienced. He knows what he's doing and what he can get out of these kids. And he does sell his lies indiscriminately because he knows they're easy to sell...
Promiscuous pretenders
pledge patently
plagued promises.
A l l i t e r a t i o n. You're just going wild with it in this one, aren't you? Lol. Nevertheless, it rolls smooth. The words worked together nicely. 'Promiscuous pretenders'. I wonder who these pretenders might be. Literally people who have sex a lot? They use sex as a means for power. False promises to get what they want. A few different ways to read this.
Hellions hone their addicts
to establish habitats
of dishonorable mathematics
destined for disaster -
akin to the blind
driving plastered.
Troublemakers (drug dealers) using their addicts (buyers) to create habitats (homes and neighborhoods) of suffering. A place where they can thrive and prosper. Of course, this kind of place is destined for disaster. No wonder why impoverished neighborhoods with lots of drugs have such high crime rates, such high murder rates, such high amounts of tragedy. They are indeed blind drivers operating a vehicle under the influence. The crash is coming, the matter is when...
Ravenous writers
rapidly roam
reconstructing rare
ruptured raptures,
savagely sulked
in the stutter of the chatter.
Hm. I don't know how much I feel this verse in relation to everything else. This is no doubt another piece of good writing, but it feels somewhat out of character here. I can't pinpoint the feeling, but the feeling lingers. Though I suppose ravenous writers could be hungry, corrupt journalists taking whatever money they can get in order to paint a narrative that has a specific agenda that may not be true. That's me reading into your words, and I could be soooooo far off base. But if I were to build a bridge from this to the rest, that would be it. Words written on the papers not giving the clear truth of the matter.
A muster of the matter
prevent words read
from another chapter.
'Prevent words read' kind of lines up with what I said above. A sort of falsehood by not releasing the entirety of the facts. Media today is full of half truths.
Extremities shackle bound -
entropy entrapped
in the vastest town
disrupts the act of sound
as the eye of Horus
finally has its glasses found.
Trapped by the shackles we form. Entropy... everything decaying and dying. The eye of horus is a symbol of protection and health. Finally has its glasses... finally sees clearly. Is this an eye opener, the reveal? Pulling the shades up and revealing what truly is. I wonder.
"SO. WHAT. ARE. WE. AFTER?"
A loaded son of a . . .
jumped the gun with his way,
loving the hate, and fucking the faith
produced by a sundry old Sage
in the news with his Sunday stoned gaze.
'So what are we after?' I like the question. Seems that nobody knows. Nobody knows what we're after. There's so many debates, so many arguments this way and that. I enjoyed the playing around with 'son of a gun' the way you did it. A man against faith, but loves the hate. You've got a twist there. One half of the coin opposed to the virtues seemed to be painted by the old sage.
Swashbuckler brandished
his eternal legacy
with eloquent stride.
Some romanticism going on here. 'Eloquent stride' seems to depict his legacy as one that is a 'badge of honor'. But the majority of this work shows a bleak picture of so many troublesome things apparent in society so if we strip the romance there is darkness underneath the surface.
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