Poem: The Sacred Stitch

[FenderPriest]

Hey folks,

I was wondering if I might be able to get some feedback on some poetry I've been working on lately. Bellow is one that I've been working on for the last few weeks, and finally set on a few lines this morning. If you're in to poetry, would you mind giving this a read and critiquing it? Any feedback is welcomed!

Thanks!
~Jacob

The Sacred Stitch
A meditation on Colosians 1:15-20

Here he hangs, creation’s governing word,
An utterance left suspended on a wheeze.
The true Son, who shown at first dawn
On the horizon of the universe,
Now a flesh pendent on a tree,
Cresting a skulled hill, with a line of thieves,
On who’s will hangs every precarious existence;
All contingents depend upon his certain will:

Every blade of grass;
Every cosmic dust;
Every swirling galaxy;
Every weary breath;​

The silent lamb sustains.
Sovereign Son, source of beauty and light
Suffocates under rebellion’s weight.

Though heaven and Earth are ripped asunder,
The divine needle weaves in his heaving,
Suspended and forsaken, this peace thread
Reconciles God and man. His blood, the sacred stitch.

Earth’s barren womb gives birth to Him,
The first freed from the curse of to dust.
New dawn in Him, the church arising
With every step, new life is shinning;
The cold, drab, grace of death forsaken
Powerless. He is the beginning;
Making all things new at his command:

Alienated are children,
Hostile are peacemakers
Darkness to light,
Death to life,​

This gracious King transposes.
Beloved Son, crown of beauty and light
Illuminates the Beloved’s sight.

Here He comes! Center of fresh Heaven and Earth,
The tapestry of glory and mercy is breathing
Victory and life, this Spirit giving Word
Reconciles God and man. His blood, the sacred stitch.

 

[Miss Marple]

Purely subjective, of course -

"wheeze" hit my ear hard. Perhaps that was your intention.

Also, if you capitalize "Son," it seems to me you'd want to capitalize "Word," also. Unless you are be inconsistent deliberately. Poetry can be like that.

I like the metaphor of the stitch.

 

[FenderPriest]

Thanks, good catch on that!

How do you mean "wheeze" his you hard? Did it chafe the ear?

 

[a mere housewife]

Jacob, there are some wonderful thoughts and words in this poem. I also loved the mirrored sounds within lines -- the texture and richness in sound supports the same in the thought. I too think that 'wheeze' is wrong poetically, a false step that draws one up short at the beginning of the poem. I also think that the concept of the needle is introduced so abruptly that you lose some of the impact of the metaphor in not knowing quite what to make of it at first. And I think if you go on polishing it (are poems ever really 'finished'?), you might be able to take some words out, and work some of the rest around or change them out to make it even more rhythmic. I like the repetition you used and think this kind of theme can bear the resonance of repeated things. In illustration of those suggestions, here is some 'playing' with your first two stanzas:

He hangs -- creation’s governing word,
An utterance suspended as the leaves --
The Son who shone at dawn
On the horizon of the universe --
His own flesh pendent on a tree.
See, cresting a skulled hill, the line of thieves --
And in their midst, the sovereign on whose will
Hang all the threadlike entities;
All things contingent hang upon his certain will,
Who hangs amidst contingencies --
Each blade of grass;
Each cosmic dust;
The swirling galaxies,
And every weary breath
His life sustains
Each time his breathing crushes on his knees:
The source of beauty and of light
Suffocates by degrees
Beneath the weight.

As through a garment which
Is torn asunder, through a rent heaven and Earth, a needle weaves
Suspended and forsaken: spun of red,
The thread that reconciles God and man is drawn and tightened, stitch by stitch,
As through a tattered garment which
Is being mended.

That is of course a quick brushstroke rather than a fine one on my part, and though I tried to do it in keeping with your beautiful like words within lines, I still can only do anything in my own approach: I am sure you can implement any worthwhile suggestions much more appropriately to your own thoughts and style. (When I ask for feedback on something, I know how grateful I am to have someone give specific feedback, so I hope my suggestions won't come across as discouraging! They are not meant so: I am glad to have read the poem.)

There are some misspelled words -- but I often comfort myself that even Jane Austen, the empress of English, and one of the most polished purveyors of it, was an atrocious speller.

 

[FenderPriest]

Thanks Heidi, this is incredibly helpful feedback! Many good suggestions here, especially how you parsed the misstep in "wheeze". I was attempting to bring in some of the gasping aspect of the cross, underlining the frailty of Christ there. Obviously, not so well accomplished this time around! I'm much more inclined towards your suggestions. I'll take these into consideration as I do a rework on it. Very helpful! This encouraged me to bring more poems around to get feedback. Unfortunately, I don't know many people to go to about poetry around here for helpful feedback.

 

[Miss Marple]

"How do you mean "wheeze" his you hard? Did it chafe the ear? "

Yes, I meant it chafed my ear; did not seem to fit. It pulled me out of the poem a bit.

 

[FenderPriest]

"How do you mean "wheeze" his you hard? Did it chafe the ear? "

Yes, I meant it chafed my ear; did not seem to fit. It pulled me out of the poem a bit.

Thanks! This is helpful feedback ladies!