#1
And the rest by will.

The Absurdist

The time and place of no choice to conform
nor bear in purpose opposing end and them;
within the penance of contemplation,
where I chose fit to doubt you-
rejoice is the will, my will
the uneven intellect.
Have pity,
or the way in which ,
for the hopeless spirit

and your so called problems;

where is your god now
looking soul, this,
for old men?
Marching around the golden column
refrained from any laughter
at four o’clock in the morning:
allow but a little elegance
ineffably, and time is restored.

“Up, move and quickly” spoke
the restless Captain.
But all was a painful loss,
for now we see through
the bow and balance.
The vacant river wherein
the brown land, refines by fire
the untamed chariot-
sure and certain it’s greater
than either faith or hope.
#2
Your writing, technically, seems to be orthogonal to your title..

Your representative ideas seem scattered, but you don't lose the road you wanted this piece to drive on: commendable, and it's not often you see this sort of thing happen. I felt like I wanted more of a uniform imagery base and didn't get one. That's probably a personal preference of mine for something like this.

"the uneven intellect." - love this phrase.

Iunno, in retrospect, it seems a little too focused. So focused I find it sometimes difficult to translate your imagery fluently.

All that being said, I see a lot of good and a lot of potential in this piece. And judging from other things I've looked back upon, you're capable.
マリ「しあわっせはーあるいってこないだーからあるいってゆっくんだねーん 
いっちにっちいっぽみーかでさんぽ
 さーんぽすすんでにっほさっがるー 
じーんせいはっわんつー!ぱんち・・・


"Success is as dangerous as failure. Hope is as hollow as fear." - from Tao Te Ching

#4
There are so many wonderful lines in this, it'd be pointless in pointing them out. They should be taken in their greatness as a whole.

However Fred, I do lean a little agreement with culex, though. Your capability is ridiculously apparent, it's just that sometimes your pieces get a little too caught up in themselves, I think, to be completely available for a viewing audience.

There's a road that leads to the end of all suffering. You should take it.


- Jericho Caine


secret, aaaaagent maaan.
secret, aaaaagent maaan.
#5
I actually found this really frustrating, which you should take as both a compliment and a criticism. Because after marveling at your good sense of phrasing and your clever literary allusions (I caught Hamlet and Yeats but damn, there might be more) I just felt like, helpless, you know? Because I can tell, I can just tell that there's something really interesting going on in here. But I can't tell what it is. I mean I'm all for being obtuse (believe me, I am ALL for it) but past a certain point it isn't the reader's fault anymore to not understand it. I'm sounding more harsh on this than i meant to. I thought it was really good. I haven't read you lately and had no idea you had become this good. But just, tone down the solipsism; share more than just your skill. I dunno if this criticism is presumptuous or not but I tender my apology in advance.
#6
The time and place of no choice to conform
nor bear in purpose opposing end and them;
within the penance of contemplation,
where I chose fit to doubt you-
rejoice is the will, my will
the uneven intellect.
Have pity,
or the way in which ,
for the hopeless spirit

I don't often pick apart pieces, but a few things in here puzzled me, and some I don't like. The very beginning of this is a long, run-on sentence that drags-on-but-never-seems-to-want-to-reach-a-definitive-ending-point. I'm not one to judge this, as I do it often, but here it hurts things, and for the love of christ, 'the uneven intellect' is sweet. Sweeter still if I can take a breath before saying it.

The second part in this - "or the way in which ," - are we missing something here? The silence has been broken too often for it to symbolize anything here (maybe the hopeless spirit, which could also benefit from being altered in tone.


and your so called problems;

where is your god now
looking soul, this,
for old men?
Marching around the golden column
refrained from any laughter
at four o’clock in the morning:
allow but a little elegance
ineffably, and time is restored.

Again, something seems to be emptied from the bucket - "looking soul, this, for old men?" It's like a shuffleboard dirt road, bumping along right as you're about to take a sip of your coffee. The second part is more superb, "elegance ineffably" an interesting choice of words.

“Up, move and quickly” spoke
the restless Captain.
But all was a painful loss,
for now we see through
the bow and balance.
The vacant river wherein
the brown land, refines by fire
the untamed chariot-
sure and certain it’s greater
than either faith or hope.

I enjoyed how this closed, because no matter how you got here, you still arrived at a place of relative peace and understanding. 'brown land' is a little iffy, and I know how it ends by the time I read the second line of the stanza, but it's heart-warming nevertheless.

I believe I've read better from you, but this is quite nice. Keep writing.