The Darkness Will Understand, N0 8/Analysis

He George

Very powerful and shows one accepting of God’s will and only fearing Hi above all else. I felt this poem could been broken into two chapters. There is an inner struggle to both accept your fate and at the same time demand and control it. Your most powerful poem.

Daniel Brick

WOW! This is genuine poetry… This is the real thing. I’m stunned and at a loss for words, which is very uncharacteristic of me because I taught Creative Writing to high school students for over 15 years. And you probably know Language Arts teachers always have something to say! Let me focus. Your title is excellent – it is ominous, suggests a hidden even dangerous knowledge gained from experiences most people don’t have. Your poem develops by means of images which is what a poem should do. And these images are fused together – that’s my word for imagery which isn’t just a pretty word picture, but rather part of a developing theme. Finally your poem expresses a Big Idea very effectively, namely, it’s the silence of God, that’s a hevy idea, but the violence you’re describing demands an accounting. In Macbeth, when MacDuff learns that his wife and children have been murdered by the tyrant, he says, What? Did Heaven look on, and not take their part? That’s the kind of Big Question your poem asks.

[Act IV, Scene III, lines 201-240], MacbethDid heaven look on, / And would not take their part?”
“A man must accept his fate… Or be Destroyed By It” ~Batiatus, Spartacus

The Darkness Will Understand, N0 8

In the bed I do not rely on commandments
The roses already fraught with wind
How many clocks do you ask
While the morning overladen with eternity is late
Delirium morning

They foresee the end of the world
Through stargates
They will wish to open them, open them they will not be able to
They will wish to close both them and the road
The poems shall herald the dead
The dead and the living will depart for false mouth
Without a single sense

My God sleeps murmuring prayers
After which I inherit sadness, wind, mountains, birds
Yet hands and bole resist

I do not fear bullets
And horseman of the apocalypse
But you
My beloved Father