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Revaluations (Free verse) by Beyond_Dreams I sat alone in the hidden alley
watching the city pass me full of
laughing hyenas, unaware.
I sat alone, no one noticed me
they passed the darkness where
I pretended to be glorified with
the booze bottle wrapped in paper.
The street lamps flickered; red, yellow,
and green. One after another music
satisfied my aching soul.
Maybe I thought the world
would be better if my eyes
were only half closed.
But I am more than a passing person
alone, unaware of my surroundings.
I was meant to live more here.
Sitting on the out skirts of the
forgotten lonely alley strumming
the stings of life to which no one
payed attention; or cared.
But I played on.
Eyes half open but still more aware
than the laughing hyenas blinded
by perpetual plastic and predominate lies.
Up the ladder:
Dying Candle
Down the ladder:
water damage
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 5.3333335
Posted: January 17, 2005 11:12 AM PST; Last modified: January 17, 2005 11:13 AM PSTWeighted score: 5.0896473 Overall Rank: 6224 Comments:
[6]
MacFrantic @ 64.12.116.67
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17-Jan-05/11:21 AM
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Reply
Okay, I respect the subtle anger at humanity poem, but it seems that this one is missing a good point *6*.
[n/a]
Beyond_Dreams @ 67.51.232.76
> MacFrantic
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17-Jan-05/11:25 AM
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Reply
the only point i was trying to make was this person who feels alone , mind you he's a bum is watching the world pass him by. He is envious at first. Untill he realizes the people "laughing hyenas" are all fake, and that their life is fake. So he now has peace in his own skin--not plastic and with a life full of lies
[6]
MacFrantic @ 64.12.116.138
> Beyond_Dreams
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17-Jan-05/11:29 AM
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Reply
Well, if that is the entire reason behind this poem, than I'll give you a *6.5*. This message is tired and the outlet of lonely bum is only too predictable.
[n/a]
zodiac @ 212.118.11.30
> Beyond_Dreams
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17-Jan-05/10:01 PM
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Reply
"this person who feels alone , mind you he's a bum is watching the world pass him by" isn't a point. It's not even a real sentence. A point is something like "Now go live fully and carefreely" or "The man you've always thought was your uncle, isn't."
Then would you give me a suggestion on how to better this poem?
O.K.
Smarter usage of semi-colons The second one is awful S3 L3-4 don't make enough sense. The contradictory statements about the people around him and then applying these statements to your own character. When trying to convey realization, you are actually making this character one of the "hyenas". Mostly recognized in the two contrasting "unaware"s. This would be brilliant if it was on purpose, but the quality of the poem suggests that it was not. Outskirts is one word st[r]ings Introducing the peoples' objectivity in the last line leaves readers a bit confused because it comes out of nowhere.
Really good, sad but true. Most of those who "have" don't see what is right in front of their eyes.
I can't really give you any advice. Take Macs advice.
Maybe this poem would be better if you really knew what it was like to be a bum on the streets; But since you don't there really is no heart behind this poem, just some person writing about something they know nothing about..Oh well...Heres a 6.
That's a very good observation, Brittanyy.
However - I, for one, am taken recently with the idea of writing a poem about people born with vestigial tails. Certainly you're not saying only people born with such tails can write poems on the subject? God! How could they??!?
LOL..It depends I suppose..If you were writing a poem about having a tail then that would be fine. But if you wrote about the pain and strife of being born with a tail then that wouldn't be valid because you ( Hopefully ) don't have a tail so you wouldnt know what its like..Can you dig it?
Truthfully, I want to write a poem about myself having (or having had) a tail. Verboten?
On a related note, I guess we should be glad Shakespeare was a fairy Negro Jew merchant emperor. Otherwise, what kinds of plays would he have written? About bumming the stage-boys, most like.
I tried really hard to be a bum on the street several years ago, to get that whole authenticity thing going. I sold or put in storage everything I owned and hit the streets with a backpack, some photocopies of my pomes, and 40 Cdn dollars in my pocket.
Unfortunately I failed miserably, as over the next 11 months I earned around $14,000 U.S. dollars with my crappy pomes -- which, since I paid no rent during that time (I was continually offerred places to stay, or camped) and paid no taxes, was a reasonably decent amount of money with which to enjoy what was essentially a year-long vacation. Most embarrassing moment? I was on Telegraph avenue all decked out like a hippy selling photocopied pomes tackily signed with metallic gold ink (it increased how much money people "donated" for some stupid reason)and up walks a woman I went to university with...she was doing her doctorate at Berkeley. lol. She definitely seemed to buy into my bum on the streets disguise.
Britt I have one word for you, Lame.
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