Monday, 6 March 2017

Michael Edwards

You know it's funny, with each review I write or showcase I honour -- it's dawned on me how much I've learned from my colleagues with each freshly scribed piece. Whether it be a word I've not heard of before or the way a phrase has been used in a fashion that I did not recognize but completely relish. Michael Edwards writing style genuinely has captivated my attention. You'll see exactly why in a minute!

the ragdolls are playing outside,
and I'm still
waiting for the sun like
a blind man --
it never comes;
is that because I
have trouble seeing what's
right in front of me? Like
my reflection in the mirror has
hardly changed, yet
my perception of this man
is unequivocally different;
are we so distant from
the apes we once were?
where we once threw
shit; now
we sling gossip and gospel;
tit for tat we attack
ad hominem with
empty rhetoric;
and the ragdolls are dancing with
glass eyes and
mouths sewn shut;
and I'm laughing at the sun
like only a blind man could

This is going to sound odd but I am going to go for it anyway -- this piece above reminds of simultaneous images that have been threaded together to create a thought provoking poem. First off I imagined this mirror similar to Dorian Grey's but; in lieu of chronicling the age of one man it marks our earth's history from the dawn of time. And the role that evolution has played in today's society.

I must admit my favourite part of this piece was:

tit for tat we attack
ad hominem with
empty rhetoric;
and the ragdolls are dancing with
glass eyes and
mouths sewn shut;

Those of you who are familiar with my blog know that I am completely obsessed with the DC Verse. The moment I read the part about the glass eyes and lips sewn shut it automatically reminded me of the Dollmaker and his sentinel creations. Who would sit and bare witness to his evil actions until orders are given to go and commit what ever crime they'd been instructed to from their creator.

I'm cruising on autopilot for
the last few weeks now;
habits are all relative,
work, eat, sleep, repeat; we
kill ourselves daily in a
dull, repetitive stabbing motion;
the notion of disrupting our
complacency would be far worse;
in those days,
our crusade was merely a masquerade for
violence; a holy
score to settle with
violent silence penetrating
ambivalent violent skies above the
blood-soaked shores
of compromise and
and I'm convinced there's
very little beyond our own
virtual reality;
beneath the incongruence between
our nature and our tendencies,
we are a persona, a facade,
a slave to faulty perception and
bad wiring;
it's tiring.

Facades and groundhog day! We've all been there -- when each day tragically bleeds into the next and the next and the... well you get the idea. To remain stagnant without moving forward, I imagine to be the real tragedy. The sad thing in life is that some individuals who live in our world -- are not able to see past their noses as they are so personally invested in their own life -- which at times could be good as it is a technique that genuinely allows the individual to focus.  But other times to not be open to our world or the bounty in variety that our universe offers us, seems almost ignorant -- time to shake up that ground hog day -- with an authentic day of discovery.  

a passing glance,
my empty glass
it's about all I can take;
you're a stranger
in a dangerous place;
a minnow in a shark tank,
you're bait,
and you flaunt it so well; well,
you're about as real as
a dream I had
late one night when
I couldn't sleep, you're
an illusion, and I'm
but her man glared at me cause
he felt her stare in
my direction; but
kid, you brought a
minnow to a shark tank,
and i hope you
came with protection

I don't know if this is because my daughter will be entering high-school within the next year and a half. All I could think of during this piece was when I was a minor niner. I think you know what i mean. When we first start secondary school we literally are like little “minnows to a shark tank,” the most awkward moments in like one will be exposed to. Now, imagine if minnows were able to grow to be as large as a shark? How that would impact the equality between the two but -- as this poem clearly shows – life is simply not fair and we must always equip ourselves against those who seek to do nothing but maim.

not much separates us
from fishermen in the way we
bait our hooks and cast our lines--
waiting, waiting,
waiting for a bite;
everyone's got a hook like
she's smart, she's funny, he
works out, has a lot of
eventually the lines get
crossed, and the lines get
blurred between facade and
we're tangled in a web of
deceit, floating
in a sea of contempt;
she's vetting how to be a model,
and he's always love collecting
fragile toy figurines
and I'm betting the
packaging is in
better condition than the
yet we're content with this

You know upon first thought, as a society --  we are a lot like fisherman. We may not officially be using a fishing pole and all the other implements used for actually fishing but; each day we send out our hooked baits into the universe hoping for a little morsel. Whether that be: attention from someone we love, working towards a university degree, fighting your way for a competitive promotion or even an indie writing waiting for that new reader to discover our work and be excited by it -- all of these snapshots are only a few things to consider. What did you fish for today?

Thank you to Mike for furnishing me with a short bio...

My name is Michael Edwards. I am a 24 year old writer from Connecticut. I've been writing for as long as I can remember, going on about 12 years now. I've been published in a few literary magazines including The Commonline Journal and The Bitchin' Kitsch.