Beyond Recognition, would you comment on and/or critique this poem?

As others have said, the first two stanzas are very lovely. The symbol of the mariposa underlies both, appearing obliquely as the metaphoric imagination's bird in the first, and a caterpillar, in the second. In both of these stanzas the earth appears at a remove, since literally at the root of the `muddling of the trees' is the `muddied earth.' This way these stanzas propose animal and vegetal examples for the act of organic transformation.

The third unrhymed, ungrammatical stanza considers directly artistic transformation but finds restraint in misformed constraint. Where Plato considered art of false sense a tyranny of the listener's soul, you posit the antediluvian image of the bird's cage to contend, equally, art of false form is a tyranny of the artist's. While Aristotle would think this reasonable (because art is only as good as the copy machine), I suspect Adeimantus or Glaucon would interrogate how an art so claudicated as this may exert within the agora of ideas such force to be imprisoned by its own shadow?

How can public taste ever be so rotten? There is a seductiveness of sophistry which, in this way, the last stanza does not capture, so that it appears to be a straw likeness for bad art. It would be interesting to see if you can capture the real tyranny of bad art (a term used also by Blake) in a way which is persuasive and persuasively self-crippled.

I would add that this poem, about transformation, which is a kind of fire, possesses images of the air and earth in the first two stanzas; it was an interesting violation of the form the `bad art' stanza so forcefully neglects water as well.

Dor = Pain. Simbra = Unknown It is a dream among childhood memories. The person, recalls the purity of snow, of the ocean, the fertile soil of an Autumn earth, the leaves in Spring.

A memory of the nature for the whole year. And now he lives in an industrial center, (Iron cage) the people around do not understand him, for years (tarnished). Freedom was what he lived back then, years ago as a child.

Nice poem, reminds me of some of my childhood's memories-writings.

I cant really gove you an answer,but what I can give you is a way to a solution, that is you have to find the anglde that you relate to or peaks your interest. A good paper is one that people get drawn into because it reaches them ln some way.As for me WW11 to me, I think of the holocaust and the effect it had on the survivors, their families and those who stood by and did nothing until it was too late.