|Reviews for Glucose|
| makkenjii chapter 1 . 1/31/2003
It's delightful, it's delicious, it's de-lovely. Wish I could say more, but the old AD/HD is kicking in, and besides, you already have one massive review for this, right?
| Amaris chapter 1 . 1/25/2003
I like this poem. The beginning few paragraphs of it especially. It's a little story. Then it gets a bit more in depth which gives it an interesting twist. It's also interesting how mid-sentence you go off to another stanza. Little weird at first, but it grows on you.
| Hopes Forgotten chapter 1 . 1/20/2003
| A.J.Peart chapter 1 . 1/19/2003
Alright, I tried reviewing this once, but then my roommate came into the room and I went to show him something in your poem and poof! it was gone. I fugure I accidentally hit the X instead of the _ button. I'm careless sometimes when it's two in the morning and I've been eating pitas. So, instead of rewriting it then, being Saturday morning (technically), I wrote a 500 word essay for my english class about my parody poem "The Second Drafting of Yeats." I really quite enjoy that one, if I do say so myself.
Anywhoo, tonight being tonight,
and the music being perfectly right,
I feel like I should write
your review thingy tonight...
hmmm, a thought just occurred to me,
but I fear that somehow you would be
quite displeased when you open to see
what I wrote, a review not poem free -
and yet, somehow it'll all make sense
when you realize that I don't mean offence,
Or when I finally paint my white picket fence...
And now, that being said, I'll fly to France.
On to stanza one, as they say,
to which I shall make way
for the ...
Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not going to ramble on like that through the whole thing. To do such would be to pull a rabbit outta my ass after eating a donkey! It's just not gonna happen.
There's a pattern here. In fact, two. But I don't think now is really the most appropriate time to talk about it. Perhaps when it is more painfully obvious or something. Who knows.
From this stanza I see the narrator (from here on in reffered to as either "the narrator" or a derivitive of "she," since I'm just gonna assume the gender) encapsulating herself in a world of makebelieve. See (I suppose now would be a good time for the first of the two patterns, but I'll just skirt it), because of the connection to the next stanza, I feel I have to include the opening line with both, as if it were one long stanza almost.
That being said, she is blaming reality for her misfortunes. This seems rather similar to the whole blaming of God or life for everything bad happening; "Why did God let her die?" or, "Why does life always have to suck?" You get the idea. So she's blaming life for her misfortunes, but like every other metaphysical culprite, it can only act as a scapegoat. I figure we all feel better about ourselves if nothing is our fault, but if it really is our fault (and we know damn well it is), than we can't just go about blaming our friends for it, now, can we? We need something that isn't tangible and wont necessarily lash out at us if we blame it. Thus, God, life, and now Reality take a bullet for the team.
That's all I gotta say about Stanza 1, but don't be alarmed by it's briskness - the poem ties in nicely to itself, so while Stanza 1 is brisk, the review itself will not be!
The format of the stanzas is actually quite interesting. They tie into each other while also acting as a sort of heading for the topic of the following lines. It sorta separates the stanzas apart a little more, the way the spaces are intended too. However, I am going to have to tack the floating line into this one, since I don't think it technically qualifies as a stanza.
I kinda liked this part the last time I went through all this. In fact, I'm going to rant a bit on exactly what I ranted on the last time before I lost it (I was actually just about finished when I lost the last one, damn it!). Parents! That's what I see here, but I'll have to explain! Rant time:
As it's put here, she want's this guy to have eaten her up, meaning there'd be nothing left but the crumbs. First off, the whole eating up of her bit I see as being love. To be completely and utterly consummed by a person is to be totally and utterly head-over-heals in love with them. Again it's the whole cookie imagery, of course, which I find is actually quite significant and later I'll be working "The Rose Bush" into this whole thing as a compairison at the end, but that's for later (yay inconspicuous foreshadowing!). Now, in regards to parents, I see them in the crumbs. You see, to be consumed by someone, you really sorta live your life through them; this can be seen quite obviously in a couple of friends of mine who happen to be going out - it's damn near impossible to get the one without the other, which sucks sometimes (especially since one of them wants to live with me in the fall and that would mean that the other would be around all the time too! Damn it!). Anyway, if you consume a cookie, all that are left are the crumbs (provided you leave any). Crumbs are the make-up of cookies, since they are the same thing, technically. Crumbs don't really look like cookies, but they sure taste like them 'cause inside they are exactly the same. So cookies can be said to derrive from cookie crumbs - crumbs are the "creater" of the cookie, if you will. Therefore, after being consumed with love, there's nothing left of the previous life except the parents that originated your existance in Reality. So this guy was supposed to fall madly in love with her, consuming her up within it, untill all that was left of her would be her parents, follow? Alright, that's one rant down. I think there's about 1000 more to go though...crap!
Here begins the second of the patterns of the poem. It seems that you've creatively sectioned each set of 2 and a half stanzas into stanzas of their own, as if there really are only three stanzas. This done through making the first about her, the second about him, and the third about the two of them together. Quite interestingly done, and enjoyable.
This stanza discribes this guy in a rather questionable manner. It gives him an angellic aura sorta, and yet at the same time it's disheveled. It's like the whole concept of women falling for guys for rather odd reasons. Maybe it's because she likes the disheveledness to him, that's what entices her, so to speak. And yet the lopsidedness of his hair represents the guys take on life, as it's put. So she is crazy about the guy not because of the guy's angellic appearance, or the bed-head hairstyle, but because of the way he looks at life. But then, that's half the problem. His outlook on life doesn't include her; in fact, he pretty much ignores her, if I'm not mistaken. So, by that note, she's in love with him partly BECAUSE he ignores her. Interesting.
Oooo, I get to rant about "Paradise Lost" again, w00t! If you don't follow now, you will later...with any luck, at least. Let the ranting begin!
Here you've gone into more cookie imagery, as though the cookies themselves were waging a war on other cookies perhaps, at least, that's sorta what it seems like. You see, the narrator is a heart shaped cookie and that's all we know about the cookie world. Theoretically, he would have a cookie too, especially taking the last line into account, but we'll get there. Therefore, in this stanza there is a war going on between her cookies and his cookies. Therein lies the comparison to "Paradise Lost." In "Paradise Lost," Milton uses the character of Rapheal to explain to Adam and Eve about the war in Heaven that subsequently resulted in Satan and his followers being banished to Hell. Because the war happened in Heaven and between Heaven's people, it would be impossible to describe it to mortals what happened in terms of Heaven. Therefore, Rapheal uses metaphor to do so. Milton, of course, is always saying more than one thing at a time with his little epic poem events, so he's actually using Rapheal as a tool to act as him, being a mortal himself, to explain this war from the mouth of one who "was there." It also makes a comment about poetry itself, since poetry is very much a manipulation of various metaphors, as you're perfectly demonstrating with the whole cookie warfare. Anyway, the war in Heaven is described as a bunch of angels battling it out with each other with things like shooting cannons at one another and throwing mountains back and forth, and wearing shiny suits of armour...but the angels are all imortal and cannot die, so how can they use mortal weapons to destroy each other? Well, how can cookies destroy each other? Instead of mountians, the cookies hurl "spun-sugar." The whole time, cookies not having ever been alive, can therefore not be killed in the sense that we consider being killed. So the battle is a lovely metaphor to describe how souls (a factor gained at the end) wage war to destroy each other, referring very much towards a broken heart, a would assume.
Anyway, that's my rant on "Paradise Lost" and how it pertains to your poem. Pretty nifty, eh?
Ah, serendipity. That was suprisingly a good movie. Maybe it's the sappiness in me talking, but I enjoyed it. Or maybe I just enjoyed the actress...in actual fact, it's both! hehe. Anyway, Here I see a dream being used to attempt some control over fate. See, serendipity, as you most likely know, is an accidental mishap that results in some good fortune. In otherwards, a "coinky-dink" (coincidence). Therefore, the narrator is using "A creme brulee dream / To convey serendipity," meaning just what I've said: trying to control fate or coincidences. She's doing very much what I do most of the time, only I know what I'm doing. I believe it's technically called fantisizing, when you sorta go about dreaming about what you'd like to have happen, how you'd like to make it happen, and what might happen if it does in fact happen...you just don't want to actually have to make it happen, you want life to do it for you. Therein lies Realities failure.
Now, the strange thing is that "The colours of yesterday / Would melt into / Something fastuous." Now, interestingly enough, when I first read through this, I thought you might have made a typo and put the "s" in "fastuous" by mistake, since it made a little more sense to me that way, but I figure now that you had intended it this way...however, for the life of me, I don't think I can guess why. I mean, I read it as though she is seeing her past as being something that would bring her pride, soundthing she can be proud of. I suppose it could refer to the fantasy-typed dream she's having, where in a dreamlike world nothing generally goes wrong unless you want it to for the purposes of your coming to the rescue and being noted as a true and just hero! W00t for the hero fantasies! Anyway, let's continue.
"Attic candy," eh? Well, I'd say that attic candy would be the sort of candy that had been put away in a storage room to stay for a long time. I invision it with dust gathered on top - not a thick layer, but enough to make it seem like it's been up there for a decade or two. And the fact that it's "candy" is ignorable. See, the candy aspect I see referring to memories, perhaps, that had been stored in the back of the mind, maybe even in the subconcious.
So those memories are the cure for "the senseless / And [to] awaken what [her] heart / Had forged long ago." It sounds like this is refering back to the initiation of these feelings that she's got for this guy that ignores her, as though she's remembering various times in which they have talked or mingled in some way (which would make sense, being under "Where we stood" 'n all). It's like the dreams of serendipity are what keep her feelings going after all this time of disappointment, of Reality failing and life all round sucking. Kind of sad, though.
The feelings for him then are the Glucose and the cookie itself is the soul. Here's where your poem ties into my "The Rose Bush." I'm not going to spend long on it, 'cause then I'd wind up writing for hours trying to explain the theory behind my poem, so I'll keep it short. Your cookie is to my rose. Your Glucose is to my "one true emotion," love. There, how's that for keeping it short?
Alright, this concludes yet another of my various rantings about your various poems. Was it as good for you as it was for me? I bet it was! muahahaha! Or...maybe not...anywhooo, I think, for old times sake:
That oughta cover this and the next four or five poems, especially if they're really really pig exclaimation points - so big that they use the moon for their point! Now why isn't that moon back in my shoe yet! I thought my complaint made it clearly obvious that the moon was to go back in my shoe imediately! Ugh, you pay these giraffes to do things for you, but then you wonder, "What am I paying you for?" and then take pitty on their adorable cuteness and hire some more monkeys to fly around space with pointy sticks yelling, "Ooooo ahhh eeeee oooo yai yai yai yaaaaaak ooooook eeeep oooop aaaaak!" which is roughly translated as "Why is the sky turning inside out and where are my pants?"
| waterlilypad chapter 1 . 1/18/2003
Ok, so it's all sugary and cavity-inducing-
but really, all the sugar and candy references were quite well done. Woven together expertly.
You're a very talented heart-shaped cookie.
| Impressionist chapter 1 . 1/17/2003
mm...foooooood. this made me hungry, which means this is a truly good poem. :)
it's insanely well written, and yes, your imagery is impeccable. The title is perfect, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. :)
| tarnished oversoul chapter 1 . 1/14/2003
see the problem with work i like is this,
in the review it doesn't really matter what I say- it still sounds shallow and cliched
| Obake-chan chapter 1 . 1/12/2003
You're the only person I know who can make glucose into something dramatic. Kukee.
I like how it's glucose oriented from beginning to end. Chocolate and cookies and creme brulees. And how sweetness fails(sometimes). Do not be deceived by the sweets.
Like always, me likes. What better to say? Someone tell me!
| Black Tangled Heart chapter 1 . 1/11/2003
| miss meaningeverythingtome chapter 1 . 1/10/2003
it's really pretty, i like the food allusions. uh, reminds me of one of the poems i have posted, that i don't remember what it's called, but if you get a chance, maybe you'd like to read?... *wink* lol. oh it's called unrequited lard. they're not actually that similar, but that's what came to mind when i read it... so...
btw, thanks for all your reviews! )
| the Queen of Jupiter chapter 1 . 1/10/2003
Very interesting, comparing yourself to a cookie. Original. I would've never thought of something like that, personally. o_O
My favorite partis
"Where we stood:
a creme brulee dream
to convey serendipity
as if the colors of yesterday
would melt into
Pretty and melancholy, although I don't understand it. Story of my life! _
Keep writing! Peace ~~
| Paradoxical Goddess chapter 1 . 1/9/2003
Ah! I like this food theme...
| Rose of Dresden chapter 1 . 1/9/2003
ahhh i do like, it like the stanza "your take on life:...". this is very well written, you are a very talented poet
| Foresaken Dreams chapter 1 . 1/8/2003
very good, definatly keep up the good work
| Bobbo the Clown chapter 1 . 1/8/2003
I feel the need to review, but can't think of anything good to say. I guess this'll have to do:
That poor cookie!
Nice stuff, as always. (Trying to figure out what a buttered brevet is...)