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Old 03-07-2008, 08:09 AM #22
Sir Raph
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Adema3412 View Post
These Nights
My first reading of the poem tells me that this piece is simply about a guy, at a party, drinking with a bunch of people he doesn't know/like.

Quote:
drunk, alone
in a room full of strangers,
all becoming friends.
I am fascinated by the use of italices and punctuation in poetry. So I instantly want to focus on the first line. I think the line itself is strong, it's dense and we get an emotion/image quickly. I question the use of italics and wonder if the line is improved by it or not. The rest of the stanza is also quite dense and gives a quick, 11-word, three line setting and vibe.

Quote:
toxic smiles
of transparent patrons
teach me new names,
Another relatively strong stanza. I'm not happy with the first line. For a poem as strong as I feel this one can be, that first line is somewhat cliche'. The second and third lines are really good. These two lines are, in my opinion, the two best of the poem.

Quote:
but Iíve forgotten too much
to remember much
of anything.

It seems like yesterday, already.
I don't pull much from these last two stanzas. They don't add much to the piece for me.

So my only real complaint about the poem is that it loses steam as it ends.

Not trying to rewrite your art for you, but this is the poem that would result from editing out the parts that I personally feel are weak, relative to the rest:


drunk, alone
in a room full of strangers
all becoming friends

tranparent patrons
teach me new names


I think that either stanza by itself, or both stanzas together both act as complete poems.

Great start to a quality piece, in my opinion.
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Old 03-07-2008, 08:21 AM #23
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Quote:
Originally Posted by infamousaddict View Post
Andy Warhol's Banana
I'll tell you how I would have interpreted this piece, without the context of it being in the forum, and without the picture of the painting: I instantly interpret it, in every way, as a piece about Andy Warhol's penis. Call me Freudian, or hyper-homo-sensitive or whatever.
Did it strike anyone else in the same way?

If this is the intention, I interpret it as a love poem, in a way. An effegy + sexual attraction and it's really interesting. Honestly, if that was intended, a quick edit would make the piece worthy of publishing, in my opinion.

If this is not the intention, editing or omitting the title would lessen the effect.
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Old 03-07-2008, 08:28 AM #24
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Adema3412 View Post
You've obviously got your word economy down to a t, but I can't really seem to get into your piece, I guess it feels too disjointed. I guess I'm just in the court that poetry should either have meaning, in which case the piece itself does not need to be as unified, but if you are trying to tell a story like you are here, I feel like the piece either needs extremely strong imagery or to have a character of some kind we can connect with. I think with a story like this your subtlety gets the best of you.
I completely understand. The poem is extremely disjointed. This is not completely intentional. As you said, I was trimming every bit of fat from the poem--to the point that I guess I was sacrificing something.
I also understand why it comes off as an incomplete narrative. That was completely unintentional. Really, there are two scenes. One of the "tourist" slipping, the other of native Michigander kids weathering a storm at a bus stop.
I'll consider your comments in my next round of editing.
To try to clarify in the meantime, the poem is an anthem, I guess, a piece about being proud to be from "Icewalker country".
(I grew up in Michigan and later moved to North Carolina where the least bit of precipitation sends people flocking to the local grocer to stock up on bread and water.)
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Old 03-07-2008, 12:11 PM #25
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Lake Walk

Lake wind whips my winter beard, bows
My head, collapses my shoulders.
I pull my collar walls to guard and burrow
Deep my naked hands.
My cautious gait stiffens
& my knees knock as if to briefly huddle
Before they part
Into the cold again.
I think about how my footsteps sound below

This heaving growing drifting flexing dancing cracking wall of heavy glass

Where molecules wait in limbo. The thick
Ether fat with sleepy giants, sitting sentinel
In their gluey kingdom, unblinking, yawping
Low, listening earlessly in the glum. Satiny
Phantasms, ancient & wet, they
listen to the echo of my knocking on their
Haunted door.
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Old 03-07-2008, 01:57 PM #26
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Sir Raph View Post
After a couple readings, this piece seems to me to be a simple one.
You're certainly not--as you mentioned you disliked to do--over wordy or "tricky" in your language. I take it to be a simple monologue on the feelings the author faces while around nature.


The first stanza is the strongest to me. We get a definite image, (though I feel it's kind of cheap to capitalize "sun". The enjambment is interesting in the first two lines. The first enjamb I feel, is accidentally creative. By cutting the line at "back", you actually put the word "back" at the "back" of the line. I say accidental because you expressed that you don't like to be tricky with language, and I, for some reason, interpreted this as tricky. The single-word third line works well to set a tone and highlight the word. "Unmistakable" to me, makes me think of the author's previous relationship with the sun. Then, this "sensual" "fingers" image gives me an interesting feeling of sexual/romantic relationship. If this was intended, I think it's incongruous with the rest of the poem. The word "gleaned" in the first line makes me think of the author's back being sweat-covered. So I get a feeling of manual labor that I don't think is intended.



This is the first idea we really get that the author has mixed feelings about nature. We don't know why at this point, and I instantly am curious as to why. The single sentence lines draw my eye to this stanza at first glance, so I assume its importance. If this idea of love/fascination/misunderstanding/hate with nature is most important to the piece, then this stanza, in my opinion, deserves more attention. As it is, the only line I really take away from this stanza is "I hate". We already know the author/speaker is thinking and remembering nature/the sun. We know he loves it from the first stanza. The hate is what is interesting. I suddenly expect that the reason the author hates will be disclosed soon, and explicitely.


I think, "majesty, okay, so now he likes it again". Then, unhesitating kindness, okay. What "darkest traces" are we talking about? Okay, "ignorant eyes", so is the speaker angry because he doesn't understand nature? Then the last two lines: okay, so the speaker is angry because he can't hold this feeling for very long? I'm not sure.



Big language switch here. Shakespearian? I instantly think of that famous/cliche' line from Romeo and Juliet and think of the scene. This, I think is really the most interesting image of the poem. Romeo, outside Juliet's window, professing his love of her beauty. This connection between the "light" (on what yonder window breaks) seems to fit well with the author's profession of his solar affection (didn't mean to rhyme )
However, I'm guessing this is not intended. I'm guessing this first line is supposed to be beautiful/creative. If this is the only reason for the line, I feel it's out of place and interupts the flow of the poem.
The last two lines are confusing to me. The light resounding in absence, space? sky? What awaits, sunset? I'm not shown enough to be satisfied with any/all of the answers.
Lastly, you tend to enjamb on nouns through the poem, and then switch from time to time. I can't seem to find a pattern that stands out or improves the poem to me.

Overall, I feel confused as to what the author feels about the sun/nature, and why. And I think this is damning for a poem that seems to focus on that topic.
Interesting. This is the exact problem I have with poetry and probably why I tend to stick to prose. Your poetic analysis is pretty impeccable; I think you caught on to most of the poem's stylistic attributes. However, I think (and based on your own acknowledged confusion) missed much of what I was looking to convey because it seems that you made many conclusions based on its structure - which is completely justified. It is the fault of me and my lack of poetic ability that I am not able to use poetic devices to accenuate my poem, and even worse, in not doing so; hurt it. I suppose I really wanted to describe an experience that is universal and subjective at the same time. An experience which many have and which many feel attuned to, yet walk alway with different notions. (Essentially, I tried to create a vagueness that is tinged with my own experience but is not so strict that one's own subjective experience can't be substituted.) Nevertheless, thanks for the insight.
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Old 03-07-2008, 02:28 PM #27
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Originally Posted by Mps2216 View Post
Interesting. This is the exact problem I have with poetry and probably why I tend to stick to prose. Your poetic analysis is pretty impeccable; I think you caught on to most of the poem's stylistic attributes. However, I think (and based on your own acknowledged confusion) missed much of what I was looking to convey because it seems that you made many conclusions based on its structure - which is completely justified. It is the fault of me and my lack of poetic ability that I am not able to use poetic devices to accenuate my poem, and even worse, in not doing so; hurt it. I suppose I really wanted to describe an experience that is universal and subjective at the same time. An experience which many have and which many feel attuned to, yet walk alway with different notions. (Essentially, I tried to create a vagueness that is tinged with my own experience but is not so strict that one's own subjective experience can't be substituted.) Nevertheless, thanks for the insight.
Creating a poem, in my experience, that can be interpretted in multiple ways, is best done through imagery. Illustrate a scene or an object or an occurance, (ie: a bloody rat, a flag, a married couple at dinner, etc.) and let the reader do the interpreting. This is obviously difficult to do, as our emotions get wrapped up in it, and we expose our feelings without intending to.
You don't lack poetic ability; you (and I as well) lack practice and training. Please don't shy away from poetry just because one poem wasn't without flaws. You obviously have a feeling for beautiful images and, in my experience, that is one of the building blocks for great poetry. Also, you take criticism with grace--the trait of an artist who wishes to improve! Look forward to your next piece.
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Old 03-07-2008, 06:03 PM #28
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Originally Posted by Sir Raph View Post
I'll tell you how I would have interpreted this piece, without the context of it being in the forum, and without the picture of the painting: I instantly interpret it, in every way, as a piece about Andy Warhol's penis. Call me Freudian, or hyper-homo-sensitive or whatever.
Did it strike anyone else in the same way?

If this is the intention, I interpret it as a love poem, in a way. An effegy + sexual attraction and it's really interesting. Honestly, if that was intended, a quick edit would make the piece worthy of publishing, in my opinion.

If this is not the intention, editing or omitting the title would lessen the effect.
uh...wow I don't know whether to be happy you said it was publishable, or pissed cause you think I'm gay
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Old 03-08-2008, 12:56 AM #29
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uh...wow I don't know whether to be happy you said it was publishable, or pissed cause you think I'm gay
This is awesome.
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Old 03-08-2008, 12:01 PM #30
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A pantoum I wrote a couple of years ago for a class. I've had a number of title, but none have just stuck so I'll just give you it's current manifestation

Luna/Sol

The day breaks, bringing dawn forth
Light cascades and permeates the land.
The veil of night lifts with a divine glamour
The sun and moon, intimate and tantamount.

Light cascades and permeates the land
An unequivocal actuality shared by all.
The sun and moon, intimate and tantamount
A peace not found, only inaugurated.

An unequivocal actuality shared by all:
Sol at midday, his zenith and pinnacle
A peace, not found only inaugurated.
No obscurity, for everything is illuminated.

Sol at midday, his zenith and pinnacle
Arching across the celestial sphere.
No obscurity for everything is illuminated
As the trek across the heavens continues.

Arching across the celestial sphere,
The horizon showered auburn with haze
As the trek across the heavens continues
Slowly beginning the descent into obscurity.

The horizon showered auburn with haze,
A glistening orb, exhausting its luminescence.
Slowly beginning the descent into obscurity
A shadow traverses the earth.

A glistening orb exhausting its luminescence,
Lost in the embrace of twilight.
A shadow traverses the earth
Gripping the land with consummate admiration.

Lost in the embrace of twilight,
Measureless sparks irradiate the cosmos,
Gripping the land with consummate admiration.
Brilliance found only at nightfall.

Measureless sparks irradiate the cosmos
Accompanied by Luna’s magnificence,
Brilliance found only at nightfall
Even the most discerning eye can revere.

Accompanied by Luna’s magnificence,
The day breaks bringing dawn forth.
Even the most discerning eye can revere,
As the veil of night lifts with a divine glamour.
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Old 03-09-2008, 03:46 PM #31
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Blood-pasted cold swine
White, pinned against the black street
Forgotten, alone.

Dead hooker haikus ftw, amirite?
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Old 03-10-2008, 11:05 PM #32
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idk, i kinda like this one
i never bothered to name it
and i dont think the first line really fits with the rest of the poem, but oh well.
ill probly never get back on here, so if this is just for constructive critism and stuff, you guys could just skip it. but i just felt like posting it


There must be a glitch in the system; you were doomed to survive
Would you rather be together in death, or alone, but alive?
I guess thatís the paradox of time;
Its all death and destruction, with no rhythm or rhyme.

When you wish for death, you are given another chance
When it all seems great, its taken away.
Is it a troubled comedy, or a sweet romance?
Ill just shut my eyes, and wait for that day.

The day when my troubles will be over,
And my body lies on the floor.
When this hurting finally stops,
And I will breathe nevermore.

In the words of the wise, life is a *****,
Whose husband is death. Fool around enough,
And he will take your dying breath
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Old 03-11-2008, 01:59 PM #33
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Quote:
Originally Posted by infamousaddict View Post
uh...wow I don't know whether to be happy you said it was publishable, or pissed cause you think I'm gay
HAHA! I wasn't trying to guess your sexual identity; I was commenting on how I read the poem.

I'm sure lots of straight guys write poems about penises...

J/K, J/K
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Old 03-11-2008, 02:10 PM #34
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Originally Posted by olio View Post
Blood-pasted cold swine
White, pinned against the black street
Forgotten, alone.

Dead hooker haikus ftw, amirite?
Bloody curb tombstone
It would read: Here lies Alice,
Fantasy dumpster
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Old 03-12-2008, 10:32 AM #35
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Sestina anyone?
had to do one for poetry class.

Bleeding Out
Pulsating pain,
Extremities numbing,
Hurts when I breath,
The small piece of lead,
Slowly draining life from me,
I am bleeding out

The life is slowly leaking out
My brother beside me is in no more pain
His body is white from numbing
Its been awhile since he drew his last breath
His life finished after being hit by lead
His lifeless body slumped beside me

We held that house and bullets flew around me
We watched as one by one, our comrades were taken out
We fought through the bullets, shrapnel and pain
Our fears were numbing
Our guns took life and breath
As they spit the hot molten lead

It came from all sides, the lead
Till one lucky shot hit me
I looked down to my ribs, as blood streamed out
For this moment there was no pain
The shock and fright was numbing
I knew it was coming, my last breath

It was all over in a breath
The firing ceased, there was no more lead
I slumped over a wall, all that was left, was me
With one last attempt, I tried to pull the bullet out
I couldn’t reach it, causing more pain
I gave up, giving over to slowly numbing

My feeling came and went, now they are numbing
My lungs filled with blood, it became hard to breath
The small piece, the small piece of lead
It sits inside, cutting the vains and the rest of me
I look down, at the wound, and my life flowing out
It will soon, soon, be over, the pain

My body finished numbing
All started by a small piece of lead
Now, slowly, the lights go out
___________


a bit cliche ending, but I like it.

if you dont know what a sestina is it goes like this
123456
612345
561234
456123
345612
234561
246

each number is a the word that ends the first sentance
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Old 03-12-2008, 03:38 PM #36
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Also, Wrote these for the girl I'm thinking about dating... she liked them of course, she is about personality and her about looks....

She
She is intelligent.
She is a talker.
She is witty.
She is hilarious.
She is perfectly flawed.
She is grammatically correct.
She is right. (more times than not)
She is open.
She is a dancer.
She is playful.
She is a joker.
She is anything but the average.
She is worth the heartbreak.

Her
Her overpowering eyes
Her luscious lips
Her dazzling brows
Her soft nose
Her toned six-pack
Her slim figure
Her stunning blonde locks
Her?
Incredible.

(Toned six pack is an inside joke btw)

I wrote this staring out the window of US History watching a snow shower:

Last Snow
You never know which is the last snow
The weather decides, without letting you know
The temperature may drop, the wind may blow
The sky may lighten, the clouds could still not let go

You never know which is the last snow
So listen, to what I am telling you so
Admire every winter storm, cause you never know,
Which will be the last snow
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Old 03-13-2008, 08:15 AM #37
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Quote:
Originally Posted by infamousaddict View Post

She
Perfect example of a good skeleton for a poem. Here's the problem: it's difficult to call it poetry. Each line, for the most part, is a complete sentence. They're completely uncompressed--it's prose in verse.

Poetry is, in my (BA in Creative Writing) opinion: using the exact word to convey exactly what you're trying to convey.

Let me give you an example of how this poem can go from flattering to moving. It's all in the intensity, the depth and weight of the language.
"She is beautiful". That's prose. It's a regular, everyday statement. It could be about my wife or your mom or Jane Smith down the way. It requires no thought, and therefore, is unstimulating. Go deeper. If impressing a girl is the aim, a thinking poem, one that requires sincerity to write, is FAR more impressive.
Example:

(instead of, She is grammatically correct)
She's Jane Austin in Abercrombe

(instead of, She's beautiful)
She breathes fallen birch trees

(instead of, She is perfectly flawed)
She laughs like I hoola-hoop

I'm not saying those lines are better, but they're certainly more descriptive. You know her. Use metaphor, simile, literary tools to make the poem about her specifically. Use unique ideas and images to make the poem special to her.
No cliche' bullshiz!
No "Her voice is the beat of angel's wings" or "her skin is porcelian". Unique, new, custom tailored. Instead of making her grin; it will choke her up.

Quote:
Last Snow
You never know which is the last snow
The weather decides, without letting you know
The temperature may drop, the wind may blow
The sky may lighten, the clouds could still not let go

You never know which is the last snow
So listen, to what I am telling you so
Admire every winter storm, cause you never know,
Which will be the last snow
DOWN WITH most RHYMING POETRY! OFF WITH ITS HEAD!

This is a perfect example of how rhyme can make a poem suffer. Because you're forcing yourself to end every line with the same sound, you're forced to use words that are unexciting. You're also forced to break the rhythm of the poem to get to a part in the sentence where you can use a word that rhymes.
I'm not insulting your ability. 99.99999% of people are unable to create quality rhyming poetry. Shakespeare did it, but even he broke his rhyme scheme if the word which conveyed what he meant didn't rhyme.
A poem that both rhymes and uses dense, thoughtful and beautiful word choice is a beautiful thing indeed. But when we sacrifice beauty for rhyme, it comes off sounding like an old-timey radio commercial jingle.
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Old 03-13-2008, 10:23 AM #38
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I think rhyming poetry is very important actually... It takes twice as much skill and knowledge for the english language
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Old 03-13-2008, 11:25 AM #39
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I think rhyming poetry is very important actually... It takes twice as much skill and knowledge for the english language
When Robert Frost does it yes, for the average poet its a crutch.
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Old 03-13-2008, 02:25 PM #40
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true... I always have difficulty finding rhymes
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Old 03-14-2008, 08:04 PM #41
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and I laugh at it.
I can’t work.
am I broken?
wouldn’t surprise the folks
to find that out.
what is unsound?

too weak to sleep
I cease.
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Old 03-14-2008, 10:50 PM #42
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and I laugh at it.
I canít work.
am I broken?
wouldnít surprise the folks
to find that out.
what is unsound?

too weak to sleep
I cease.
I'm not much of a criticizer poetry wise, but this is really, really, good.
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