Dovina
replying on Trust by Dovina
31 Oct 2004, 10:48 AM
I can say cop-out, expediency, caring, love, lies, and trust, all in the same breath, and believe hopefully that I mean them.
Yup. Slow it down a bit, too. Thanky.
Under a hazy Florida sun,
in the median,
three tall birds stand -
underestimating.
Same family at any rate. I looked it up in the dictionary, too bad I didn't have a bird book when it happened, I could be more accurate. I had probs with the comma too. Which is the more rogue? Could I do way with both on the basis of line breaks?
If you're going to post a revision, at least correct the spelling!
The first verse nicley evokes a sad tale coming, except for the rogue comma. I love openings like this.
Is it a heron or an egret? They're about the same, right?
You are right about blahblahlbah.
I wish you would stop ignoring me when I comment on your work. You went off in another direction, this time as before, and did not address what I was trying, in a constructive amnner, to tell you.
Pale is used twice in the 1st stanza. Keep the rose buds. Snow white /pale washes itself out.
The second stanza is just too generic. too many b,l,u,e
words ant too many possible end rhymes to take easy street. Do it again.
S-3 How to emotions swell? You used -unfurled- in the second line. swell or unfurl. pick one.
and your closers are too generic. Find an image that equates this. A horse with blinders on perhaps? A tunnel vision driver? Plenty to choose from.
The poem is not bad, just too much telling. The Blue eyes is particularly good.
If you like this poem, take it apart and rebuild it.
Still you're improving. An unlisted 7.
Are you a) new to english b) attempting to sound smarter than you are or c) all of the above.
You can't have reduplicated prepositions in english that split the object
I like this better, a lot better if only because you've actually tried. You are still struggling with the form.
I tried shaping it up a little. It's a bit better this way I think:
This path I travel down is worn
old leaves are crunched beneath my feet
A newer me would be reborn.
My walk began. I was forlorn
In feeling I was lost and beat.
The path I traveled down was worn
In the late nights I'd look out and mourn-
Look out my window; down my street
A newer me will be reborn.
My heart gets tugged until it's torn
Whose tearing makes me incomplete
This path I travel down is worn.
The night departs, its promise sworn
And I arise for day is fleet.
A newer me will be reborn
With the new day whose newer morn
Readies me for a newer feat.
For this path I travel down is worn.
A newer me must be reborn.
This is the sort of thing you should have left on that sheet of lined paper and never bothered to type. It's quite bad, really. I'm sorry for your loss but it does not make for good poetry or moving reading.
This is the very worst thing you could do for the memory of the dead. You are unwittingly generalizing one more dead person and lumping them in with the rest who have had so many bad poems elegizing their deaths.
This poem, while it may be meaningful to you, is meaningless and laughable to the rest of us. If you can believe it, so many kiddies ask me to read poetry just like this expecting me to praise it. I do exactly what I'm doing now. I tell them this kind of poetry, as common as kleenex and as disposable, is exactly why "young creative writers" classes are a bad idea.
If you really want to do justice to the memory of the dead, focus on what made your friend unique in life, instead of what made your friend another badly rhymed "poem" among the rest of the prematurely dead.
I most strongly disagree with all of you.
"Call upon the wrath of god on ye" Is an excellent bit of mockery of those who have no idea how to sound archaic but try to anyway. "scurge" is a nicely subtle way of shortening the line to the author's specifications in the manner of the great Robert Duncan. The pun on "may be" in the fourth to last line is an example of supreme wit matched only by the uncapitalized god, a most original way of indicating the author's displeasure with religion.
In short, there are few poems better crafted than this.
Thus this poem most certainly merits a score of.....
HAHAH
Gotcha there. Just kidding.
"Call upon the wrath of god on ye" just sounds like an illiterate wanker trying to sound biblical
"scurge" should be scourge
"it maybe" should be "it may be"
Now, since you posted a "correction" I would assume that you would at least fix those utterly guffy fuckups if not delete the whole dribbling amorphous, artless and musicless pseudopoem. However, since you did not, I can only assume that your edit was to get your poem up to the top of the list again and erase the 7 and the 8 you'd gotten (which were really generous)
Before you wonder about it, yes I really do mean it. Please, try again. On second thought, don't!
-10 of shame-
Then we are back to where we started. By 'no blooms we see from those deflowered' what you mean is that those who lose there innocence never show the same vitality again. That is as specific as the metaphor allows. Therefore you are saying that all non-virgins have no vitality. The metaphor also implies that the a 'deflowered' flower will never bloom again. This is incorrect. This is an example of the problem with the poem. Metaphors must be tight, they must track, this one is literally redundant (the way you mean it) and open to misinterpretation (the way the reader reads it).
What I am saying is no different from what any other member of a poetry site will say. The use of excessively archaic language when the poem works without is a no-no. Metaphors that are open to misinterpretation are not good metaphors. Also when I said published, I meant a piece that a respectable publisher would put in their magazine. 'Whilst the bells ring' has a good last verse but the title alone would be enough to get an editor to throw the poem in the bin.
cum puellis :(