Closer

Hail falls as it does in weird Africa
I hear a few tribes men call me
Their clicking tongue says see
That star looks like America

I’d left the city for the real experience
Like accents were not my lot
I notice in the people a real resilience
The kind that stops you getting shot

They were not progressive because they had no hope
Politics was about access roads
They were not liberal because they had no scope
For protecting from poisonous toads

The spears were not innocent one says
Don’t blame the imperialists
We can’t predict by eliminating the past ways
Because of them we have artists

I sleep looking up because the ancestors look down
I have learned nothing
I can’t save them I said as a young one’s look turned a frown
I hope you all can make something

Critique: An essay

I wonder sometimes what the relation between criticism and the genre of critique should be.
Critics v Creators
The esteemed British critic Mark Kermode in one of his uncut videos brought up an issue I’d always struggled with. I had been a critic of systems in the past like examination and testing systems and i’d always get the response ‘well that’s just because you failed!!!’ and that may have been true on occassion but it was not always true. There was in fact a day when it was markedly untrue, we had to participate in propangadizing the legacy of the person my university was named after and I had some issue with this. There was a course based on his life story and his hardship and the lesson to be drawn from that was in discussing topics like discipleship and valour. It was interesting his life story in the way that a Mad men episode or a museum is but the manner in which we assessed our progress was not to relate years and facts but to fill in the blanks in a textbook. Kermode made a similar distinction when he stated that he has not ever agreed that critics make better content or productions. He mentions one example of a Japanese critic who decided to make a movie that was not well received and in the resulting accusation had to delineate between the two identities he possessed.

 

A critic may not necessarily be a creator in waiting (director, producer, writer) but is an important gate keeper or even hand maiden in any given field. To serve the creators by showing them where they have failed or preventing bad products from being seen by those who are impressionable

 

Critics as High court judges
High court judges in the UK cannot hold political office or express political opinion during their tenure. This is a feature of separation of powers such that they can take cases individually or apply court precedents where necessary. In some newer creative fields such as comic books and video games there exists a lack of delineation complete or partial between enthusiasts and critics. In some of these industries, there exists an incentive to give positive reviews or praise to a work of art not on the basis of cohesion, symmetry, structure, appearance or value but on the off chance that they may break into the industry of their dreams.
There exists also a sort of perpetual childhood described by smarter people than me such that those who did not put away their long boxes have come back with a vengeance to critique work and to suggest ways to better an industry in decline like all print media. It seems ironic that the explosive popularity of spandex and flag wearing heroes has not seen a rise in overall sales and engagement in comics. The duty of the critic like a judge would be to decide the value of something based on evidence and arguments for and against and the creator should be able to separate the language or choice commentary from the empirical criticism.

 

Critics as Experts

There also seems to be an extent to which critics have to love or care about the products involved. An affinity or a fondness of the medium or material. While it is in common parlance to discredit someone by stating that they weren’t good enough to break into the industry, it is also important to use expert information to describe critical points. Someone who knows about story structure can critique a faulty story, an amateurish studied artist can describe things as they would be better and analyse artistic failures in poor anatomy work. This is an idea that seems to be lost, as though everyone never has control over emotions. If for example a person is categorised as hateful, is it impossible for them to make any agreeable points? The robotic nature of text should allow one to pars the simplest interpretations of critiques. Apply hanlon’s razor or legal rules of interpretation if confused. If your only response to a critique is that it is hateful you need to examine your counter critique. As much as it is pertinent to say that something is hateful it is also an unbelievably complicated concept that muddied the waters in discourse.

Tl;dr: Critics are important. Maybe critique and artistry are not always linked and should be separate. Insight into subject matter helps with reasoned critique

No Jacket

Starlet backdrop looking dark and onerous
People in the foreground making jokes
Witnessing a helicopter flying over us
A man and a woman both wielding spokes

A lovely sweater he has on, it’s knitted because he’s slender
Her hair is jet black and she wears an evening dress
His feet are in oxfords and his socks help with finesse
Her eyes blue, shot and searching like she woke from a bender

There’s clouds but its cold and she’s without a sweater
He’s without a jacket or a hat to tip milady
She rubs her hands up and down her shoulders reacting to the weather
He takes off his knitted sweater and covers the lady

The helicopter leaves apologising for profiling
The lady thanks him and goes to her pool party
The man speaks in icy breaths, teeth grinding
No uber in London so he has to be hearty

Broadly speaking

Layman says life is a bed of roses

It smells nice and gives you lots of moments

Wise man says the roses are thorny

Such that the smell doesn’t protect your body

 

Long distance helps us see everyone clearly

It shows us what man can do is extraordinary!!!

One person you can see with your two eyes

Being ignorant and hating and spouting lies

 

Black hair doesn’t move but afros are beautiful

And only young strong women wear them

Long hair moves in the wind almost sinful

Its so interesting you want to be near them

 

Women are oppressed, weak and trying

They are also strong and empowered

Men are strong, stoic and dying

They are weak and in their tears I’d have showered

Winter Solstice

I can’t tell you sorry while I’m helping solve an issue
When you need a shoulder I’ll also bring a tissue
We can’t walk on water with feet cast in iron
Strive to do greater when we cannot even iron
Out our issues in the solution of the Sun
Or when we can’t debate for fun

My problems aren’t yours and yours aren’t mine
I’ve tried to tell you sorry but I may have crossed a line
The victim of a mugging can only see the barrel of the pistol
So we shouldn’t really ask them why their boards are made of bristle

Time is the enemy and we’re all losing
Hair and nails and tears as a result of its choosing
We live and toil for nothing but a legacy
Looking at the future might make one move past the pedantry

Lost works at unfortunate times
Found love in unfortunate rhymes
My truth is me speaking it and not your listening
My words might be terrific but here my teeth are glistening

I’m trying for the Sun to help my friend recover
But I can’t be flying high when all he do is hover
We cannot fight in times when its us versus our brother’s
Open borders and close our bothers?

Tears from my temple where no one ever worshipped
My hands have built an idol but still no one has washed it
I gave them what to worship and hope to help them stay
But you can only give a ship directions you can’t drag them to the bay

At times I’ve felt despotic
When all I do is think
And no it’s not erotic
When all you do is blink

I’ve tried me on them trials
I can’t persecute myself
Gulped up a strength vial
Because I can’t lift myself

In the end I didn’t notice those without a notice
I couldn’t see those without reflection
I couldn’t open doors because of my erection
At the start I didn’t know there was a winter solstice

Greater good

I can’t see your greater good
I may have closed my eyes
Not for the many and not for the few
But for those tired of lies
Give me a cause to back and i may follow
Don’t use words that to us have no meaning
I need you to empathise with their sorrow
With the right amount of heart you may change my leaning
I’m not a hard man to please
Just say thank you, welcome and be polite
Don’t treat others like fleas
Even if they’re not very bright
I can’t see your greater good
I tried to listen but you were so verbose
They needed emotion pleas
You got on your political tippy toes
Speak to me a person to another
I may not empathise like family
But talk a little lighter and it’ll give you less bother
Change now that this not end in political tragedy

Ledge

I’ve been trying to matter since I was born

Aspiring to acquire the name of man

Afraid to speak for fear of the scorn

I didn’t stand up, I ran

 

Been going crazy alone in this world with no care

Whispers will guide me home from the ledge

I’m not trying to die, this I pledge

Stepping down to where I’ll see things clear

 

I’ve been trying much harder since I got old

Hoping for power to take a stand

I’ll be unafraid and be bold

I got up and ran on the sand

 

Been getting hazy, honing a sword with no flair

Answers will make me cross the hedge

I’m trying to die, this I pledge

Stepping off to where the ground is near

Tales. The art of telling tales. The poet's mind.