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One of my things | Author | Message |
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Shadow
Posts : 66 Join date : 2014-02-28 Age : 30 Location : Slovakia
| Subject: One of my things Sun Jul 13, 2014 7:59 am | |
| This is one of my poems written in english,I hope you guys like it to introduce it and my work as a whole a little, I have to say that I mostly deal in abstract metaphors and imagery to set up a scene from which the reader can compose and decypher his/her own meaning. This is not really a love poem, more of a poem about love. As I often write on impulse, it is not perfect and the metrics don't match up as fully as they do in my edited works (which aren't in english sadly ), so if you're a metric perfectionist, please bear with me here goes Heart of Clay 75 verses of you and me
We were lying in our bed your lips red but love a tiny thread Wolves howling, leaves letting go, settling for goodbyes below the snow
Tall electric fences still not gone, letting us weep to their menacing tone, We set foot on hopes of love, it's not down here, it's laughing from above Lonely trees crying in the fog Hitting rock-bottom harder than rock
Wings of hearts ripped from them Ace of spades asking when White feathers falling from the sky The storm is here, last chance to fly
Tigers released from their cages roaring like fire-spitting mages Lonely fish choking in the smog watching long-lost ships looking for the dock watching you and me searching for new land it's pitch-black even with the Sun in our hands
I am in the corner of your heart where the flames were bound to start gone are the golden lovers the fire took them, as it took others
Last train's gone yet the pigeon still waiting it's mouth fed but an empty heart gaping even though platforms are ghosts, someone's there, breathing a bit of bread followed by thorns, same as the banquet's host
Sick orphans caring for the blood-red rose watering it with tears running down their nose Small Bambi looking for his mother the fire took her, and it will take others
Apathy is gold when found in nuggets hope is a coat old and rugged The violin cracked and void of sound That small deer now chased by starving hounds
Watch the trees suffer and wither last love they had, even that turned bitter Wide green fields under the white thick cloud Ask the bearded man, he knows what love is all about
Same as the hunter aiming down the sight Same as the proud peacock now turning to flight Love is a strange bullet, always hits the heart Only a fool gets caught, the last one who ran was smart
One postman delivering written hearts what's the point when it's always only halves? Stars don't fall 'cause they want to be admired, they have seen all the worlds, yet now are very tired
few steel strings tell the truth whole that's the beauty, that's their goal The miner found a diamond, set in stone from which he'll sew a shining gown
All the locked doors are now open the keymaster useless and broken empty chairs sitting in a cold dark hall looking for company yet their hopes are small
The baby deer making it's first small jump the tongue of a crystal pond are the teeth of a murky swamp Witches grinning with their hungry smile for I asked them for a love-filled vial
The watchful shepherd out of sadness broke his crook that's the last mention of him in the holy book Lonely sheep now staying out of sight eyes full of fear, mouths open wide looking at each other, wool stained with guilt same as us, their trust was spilled
I am at the top from where angels fall Is someone helping from above at all? Only throwing fruit and snakes your diamond shines brighter when my feelings fade
Screeching gates shooing thieves away guarding the statue's heart of clay while we're lying in our unmade bed can you imagine all this sewn from a tiny thread?
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| | | DVAted
Posts : 5995 Join date : 2014-02-23 Age : 36 Location : in the forests of the night
Character sheet Name: DeViAted Faction: GUNners Level: 55
| Subject: Re: One of my things Sun Jul 13, 2014 9:06 am | |
| My first instinct was to tell you that an introduction isn't necessary for poems. However, in this case it was
Indeed, the imagery and metaphors are quite open to personal interpretation, but by that it makes me wonder if you've truly invested your personal perspective, your innermost feelings into it, or if you just enumerated some effective scenes.
I'm not sure how old you are, but knowing that could clear some questions I'd had of the whole piece, mostly about how much of you was to be expected in it.
Also, thanks for the warning on metric measure I was a stickler for that for years, until just recently when I felt I could also make it work with slight approximations and liberties taken to it.
Almost everything (99%) of what I write is in English because my favorite classic poets wrote in English themselves and I relate to the language much more than to my native tongue. But if I hadn't, I expect I'd still venture into a piece or two like you have, probably with much lamer results than yours
I love the subtitle btw First half seems calculated/technical but the second half is a dedication and sign of closeness so that's nice.
The images are a bit sad generally. I noticed a back and forth between balm and poison, but along the line it just broke off from honey completely and embraced darker potions.
I couldn't follow the deer's path fluently, but I assume it's a stylistic choice to interweave other scenes throughout it.
The first few stanzas make me think of an extraordinary love being denied by either distance or chance. The middle tells me of loss, and then I feel that the love died out/exhausted/faded. The last few stanzas tell me of betrayal, deceit... I guess fear is throughout the entire thing. A mention of hope but then discarding it to resignation. Overall not entirely consistent, but again, maybe you did want to touch on all different aspects and make a mosaic of them.
I am puzzled why such a depressing descriptive process when you're in bed with the one you love. In dread of goodbyes, okay, but then, you're missing the current moment of togetherness. Love hurts about as much as you've described it, but after the break-up, not when you're together. That moment should be spectacular, amazing, full of hope, purpose, satisfaction, ambition and direction. At least, that's my personal experience. When the bed is empty, sure, the whole world comes crashing and loneliness bites me in the proverbial ass. But not when she's there
Some particular verses left me puzzled like "Apathy is gold when found in nuggets" Does it say apathy is positive in small doses? And a "motherload" of it is not? If so... well, good point. If not, then, as you've said, every one interprets these in a different manner, which is just as great.
"Only a fool gets caught, the last one who ran was smart" If the fool gets caught, shouldn't the first one who runs be smart? Isn't running = getting away?
"that's the last mention of him in the holy book" What's the holy book got anything to do with it?
"your diamond shines brighter when my feelings fade" what? why?
Favorite line: "Ask the bearded man, he knows what love is all about"
Favorite verses: "White feathers falling from the sky The storm is here, last chance to fly" [...] "I am at the top from where angels fall Is someone helping from above at all?"
Favorite stanza: "One postman delivering written hearts what's the point when it's always only halves? Stars don't fall 'cause they want to be admired, they have seen all the worlds, yet now are very tired"
Overall a great piece. I love poetry I love it that someone found it in their hearts to post some here! To share I'd love to see more!
Keep up the good work! +1 |
| | | Guest Guest
| Subject: Re: One of my things Sun Jul 13, 2014 9:06 am | |
| A couple of suggestions if I may: Great use of slant rhymes and basic aabb scheme. The only thing that threw me off was how there were inconsistent deviations from the aa/bb scheme. Sometimes you included six lines! Of course there's nothing bad or wrong, but you really want to provide the reader with a concrete standard. Let us examine one of the most famous American implementer of the aa/bb scheme, Walt Whitman. If we read any of his poems, we can see that he never deviated from the number of lines per stanza that he sets for in the beginning. If he began with four lines in stanza one, then he consistently used the same amount throughout the poem. When you decide to use a simple and set scheme, you should apply it for all aspects of your poem. You clearly use the aa/bb scheme, but in some stanzas you use aa/bb/cc which may discredit your style. While your rhymes are impressively imaginative, they may be undermined by this simple fact. If you decided to utilize a free-rhyme scheme then you can afford a lot more leeway. As I've mentioned before, I find your rhymes impressive. More impressive are your lyrics. Indeed the quality of your syntax and vernacular are robust throughout the poem. However, I am a bit critical on the flow of the poem. The title is Heart of Clay, and while your words do convey the same melancholy tone as the title, I feel that sometimes the two bear no relevance. Let us examine stanza #8: - Spoiler:
- Quote :
- Apathy is gold when found in nuggets
hope is a coat old and rugged The violin cracked and void of sound That small deer now chased by starving hounds
The idea of the heart of clay (otherwise interpreted as an emotionless or apathetic person) is hard to derive from this stanza. Sure we use the word "apathy", but I'm at lost to see the connection between the title and this particular stanza. My point is that the narrative of any literary work should be in keeping with its title and/or thesis. My suggestion? Don't focus on the details when writing poetry; I implore you to look at the "bigger picture". Before you even start the rhymes, plan the scheme. Ask yourself: how many lines will I utilize per stanza? What meter will I use? What will my rhyme scheme be? There is certainly a benefit to transcribing the words as they appear in your thoughts, but a poem with a set rhyme scheme would most certainly benefit from a bit of planning. This is particularly important for the last critique that I mentioned. Poetry can be degraded into a maelstrom of meaningless rhyme schemes and random words especially if it lacks motif. My suggestion is to either always tie in the last line with the poem (like haikus) or make the entire poem one smooth flowing story. Please don't be offended by my critiques. I'm very impressed with your product. The poem is amusing, and I love how you concluded it. I sincerely hope you continue to entertain us with your amazing works. Please consider my suggestions, and I look forward to future works! Awesome job (thumbs up!) |
| | | DVAted
Posts : 5995 Join date : 2014-02-23 Age : 36 Location : in the forests of the night
Character sheet Name: DeViAted Faction: GUNners Level: 55
| Subject: Re: One of my things Sun Jul 13, 2014 10:00 am | |
| Without intending to put Yoshi on the spot, I'll respectfully disagree with his first critique.
Stanzas don't have to be consistent in line count throughout the entire poem. The Rondeau, for example, bases its entire structure on a cinquain+quatrain+sestain (5+4+6) pattern The Rondeau Prime, as well, with a septet (7 lines) and a cinquain (5 lines). Not to mention Sonnets, famous for their octave (8 lines) + sestet (6 lines) form. Sometimes the octave is taken as 2 quatrains, other times there are 2 sestets and a couplet to end the poem with a short but lasting impression
And these are just some of the patterns registered. Some of the greatest poets didn't always respect one, like E.A. Poe with "A Dream within a Dream" starting with 11 lines in one stanza and ending with 15 lines in the next (more of a strophic arrangement than a stanzic one really). Annabel Lee is even weirder: 2 sestains, 1 octave, 1 sestain, 2 octaves. No particular name to that arrangement, it's just what he felt like writing.
Poetry is weird Mathematically planned structure can sometimes constrict the flare of inspiration and then nothing comes out, it dies on the drawing board, so to speak.
I typically blurt out what I wanna put on paper, and then I revisit and revise it until it's properly formed. Sometimes I rephrase a poem word by word to improve it, years after I've finished it. Comes out with a whole different stanza set, vocabulary and metric measure, but the message remains. The images are sharpened, but it remains true to its soul, to my frame of mind when writing it. Setting a stanza structure from the start would be like putting a half dozen leashes on my neck.
Anyway, Yoshi is a great fan of the arts and I appreciate he took the time to provide feedback to this piece. Makes me wanna post mine too But I haven't cleared the publishing deal yet We'll see. |
| | | Shadow
Posts : 66 Join date : 2014-02-28 Age : 30 Location : Slovakia
| Subject: Re: One of my things Sun Jul 13, 2014 10:32 am | |
| oh wow thank you guys for the extensive feedback. now as far as my "involvement" in the message of the poem goes, in my free time I talk to a lot of people with problems, be it friends or strangers I meet sitting alone on a bench somewhere, which in turn influences the things that come out when writing, granted, this does not make for a unified and tight image when writing, but I can't help it sometimes... yeah, the apathy bit is exactly as I thought it out to be, so I guess I relayed that well with the running, yes I think I should change it to first, don't know why I picked last now that I look at it... and the holy book and diamonds is a very specific thing I had with a very specific person, which, when shown to other people will have to remain a very abstract metaphor...funny I have never shown it to all the people it's about @yoshi I agree I am deviating from the structure quite a bit, sadly I can't help myself sometimes and sometimes (I try) to create contrast points (intentional deviations) so I guess it's a mix of this and that, the regularities will improve as my writing improves in english I hope...as for some of the irregularities in this poem, some truly are intentional thank you guys for the constructive feedback, it will definitely help me improve _________________ Bonis nocet, qui malis parcet.
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