My first poem I have posted in here... be nice

[blazen]

Let me know what you think in an honest constructive way....
it is the first time since I left my fiance that I have let anyone read my ramblings. The night I wrote it, I felt like a muse was within me. Thank everyone. Jason


Cloaked in a shroud of dust,
To see a world full of beauty it must.
Laying silent, ready to rise once more
Like a phoenix reborn, opening the future’s door.

The cold of loneliness has long set in
No one has seen where these eyes have been
Ronin, wondering the land, once charged to defend
Yet this Ronin yearns for someone to befriend.

Then a traveler entered the once protected domain
Bringing with her a promise of nulling the pain.
Bearing with her the keys to open a vault filled with emotion,
Should he allow her form to roam free without commotion?

The heart knowing only of dreams once torn asunder
The mind scarred from centuries of endless raging thunder.
A mind that’s vastness of knowledge knew no conceivable bounds
Trapped within by an epic irony; hearing only its echo’s sound

So it is opened, this portal to tomorrow,
Ronin secretly hoping he won’t feel any sorrow
The choice was reserved for him to make,
His heart though seemingly hers to break.

But before the vault’s tumblers would be turned by the traveler’s keys,
The Master of this long forgotten plantation once more stalked amongst the trees
Astonished by the atrocities committed under the auspice of love,
Foiled by the promises of peace and happiness in time brought by a dove.

In one swift motion the defenses that fell attackers in times before,
Were called back to the ramparts for battle once more.
The traveler, once veiled in white tranquility turned from friend to foe,
Now bled with a crimson red blood only appreciated by the circling crow.

Akin to the thrashing akula swimming single mindedly up stream in vain,
If, but for just a moment or two of reprieve from the mental anguish and pain.
Because the traveler’s invaders razed the once fertile plains and streams,
They strangled the once vivid and vibrant life full of dreams.

After the battle had ended, and Ronin knew his sacred duty of Seppuku
He realized that the one final act of an obsidian blade was one he couldn’t do
Ronin was faced with preserving his honor by death with a hand-forged blade,
Or living in disgrace knowing he hadn’t the resolve to follow the promises he had made.

So dishonor would be the course set for the day
Determined by actions or inactions Ronin refused to play.
What honor or purpose is left when your master has died?
Alas, forced to roam the land, resigned; forced to utter a muted sigh.

So Ronin left the moral shackles behind, and ascended to another plane
A plane where time and space were but one, and warriors of old held new fame.
Old forgotten warriors, like Ronin, were given a second chance at their song
To set things right, things that once in their life went somehow, someway wrong

The lone Ronin, seeking to stem the war before the battle ensued
Trying to reconcile all the new information that now he knew.
Ronin recalled his heart was hers to breaks, but somehow calming to remember
It was also his choice when the mind was ready to surrender

The master called out to seventeen generations of blacksmiths,
For a Masamune blade in steel thousand fold that would be no myth
He knew that the armies of his Daimyo must be called in earnest,
If any hope for mind’s survival, blades must be infused with spirits within the furnace.

Ronin rebuilt his fortress in this new realm he called his own,
The masons labored to build, they stacked mortar onto stone.
The walls of the new citadel were impregnable and secure; this new castle was indeed strong
The invaders that sacked the land before would be suicidal to do this warrior’s home wrong

The keep of this fortress, protected in concentric rings of stalwart granite blocks and stone
Posed a formidable defensive perimeter to those that sought to harm even a single sunken bone
At the edge of this pristine castle’s walls, where lands met waters, and waters to lands
One more surprise awaited the traveler and her invading bands

As her Galleons unloaded Myrmidon and their seemingly endless supply of inner fight
The defending Welch bowmen rained down arrows that forced them to hate the even the light.
Following the first wave, riders from the steppes; Cossacks poured into the battle
Sadly though the bowmen’s arrow was a one-way ticket to Cerberus, and off their horse’s saddle.

Finally the day came when Ronin emerged from his fortified throne room of kings
Hands both full with mind and heart, wearing ablative armor, the heralds did sing.
He stood tall against his one time friend which now he called foe,
Ready to cut her down in a single quick desisicive and unyeilding blow.

Reaching to his side to draw out the now ancient forged blade
Ronin drew the Chiyoda and all who stood in opposition, faded away.
Though not in life had Ronin dealt with most grievous of personal fights,
In death Ronin fulfill his sacred birth rite.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Hi, Jason, and welcome.

I'm going to give you my thoughts as they occurred, because that way you'll see how the poem impacted me.

In all honesty, my first instinct was to back-click. Before I even started reading it, I could see the structure was a disaster, and when you decide to go for rhyming couplets, structure should be simple enough that you'd be able to stick to it consistently. Instead, I could verses with syllable counts ranging from six to, what, twenty-four syllables? Seriously, in a verse like "Posed a formidable defensive perimeter to those that sought to harm even a single sunken bone", it's a wonder you can still remember what you're writing about by the time you finish the line, let alone keep focus enough to maintain cohesion throughout the poem.

Then I started reading it.

Cloaked in a shroud of dust,
To see a world full of beauty it must.

What does that mean? I still haven't been able to figure it out, even after reading it over and over. It must see a world full of beauty because it (not the world) is cloaked in a shroud of dust? It must be cloaked in a shroud of dust in order to see the world full of beauty? What is it?

Isn't a shroud, by definition, something that cloaks something else? In all writing, but especially in poetry, every word should count and push the message forward. Here, you have not words but whole strophes seemingly moving in circles and adding nothing to the message you're trying to convey.

To see a world full of beauty it must. The very first rhyme of a very, very long text, and already you fall back into Yoda-talk. It sounds so forced.

Your metaphors are all over the place:

Laying silent, ready to rise once more
Like a phoenix reborn, opening the future’s door.

(You meant lying, not laying) Phoenixes may rise, but they don't open doors. That sort of thing.

The cold of loneliness has long set in
No one has seen where these eyes have been
Ronin, wondering the land, once charged to defend
Yet this Ronin yearns for someone to befriend.

Phoenixes are reborn from fire, yet you follow that image with "the cold of loneliness", which in itself isn't a good combination, because if you're going to use cold as a metaphor for loneliness, putting it out like that simply kills the effect. Another example of words put together in a manner that is counter-productive follows immediately after. If no one has seen where those eyes have been, doesn't that mean this ronin is blind? (And you meant wandering the land, not wondering; unless he really is blind and is trying to figure out where the hell he is.)

I had to really force myself time and again to continue reading the poem from here on. I figured I would just ignore all the formal, grammatical, symbolical and logical aspects I mentioned before and try to get a grasp of the overall message. I couldn't, though. The storyline, so to speak, moves in circles, and is filled with tangents that lead nowhere. It starts on a subject, and then literally says "hold on, though, because before that there this other thing that I want to talk about", and turns into something completely different.

You need to focus. My advice would be to scratch the whole thing and ask yourself one question: what do you want to say in this poem? Forget the poetry, just answer that question in 20 words or less. Focus on that message. Then try to turn it into a poem with 14 lines or less. Keep focused. Don't ramble, have your muse surgically removed. Use concrete images. Keep your metaphors under control. If it's cold, it's not fiery. If it's a bird, it's not a fish. Forget the rhyme for now, just focus on nailing that message. Focus.

 

[ghost_girl]

Lauren,
You are my hero! You are so patient and so kind, I hope he appreciates that you did this for him.


PS, Ange, DO NOT look at his profile. ( evil clown alert)



j

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Lauren,
You are my hero! You are so patient and so kind

LOL

 

[WickedEve]

Lauren,
You are my hero! You are so patient and so kind, I hope he appreciates that you did this for him.


PS, Ange, DO NOT look at his profile. ( evil clown alert)



j

I want her for my hero, too.

blazen, I can tell you put a lot of effort into your poem.

 

[ghost_girl]

When I first came here, I tried so hard. In fact, TOO Hard.

After the first couple of months, I thought I had this poetry thing mastered, posted a poem, not unlike blazens, titles Raspberry whispers. It sucked. Really bad-ly.

I think it was WE that pointed out that I had metaphors all over the universe, but it was still a nice effort. At that point, I deleted most of my work and started over, with advice from the Poets here, like what Lauren gave blazen.

blazen- if you take the words to heart, and realize how valuable her assistance is, and that of most people here, your poem will be wonderful.
You did what I was doing, tried to put too much into something that actually requires a minimum to be it's best.

WE, you're my hero, too



anyway....

good advice comes cheap, at times, it is what you make of it that counts


peace

 

[Rumpleteazer]

hmm

holy shit
tear him a new one

 

[Angeline]

Lauren,
You are my hero! You are so patient and so kind, I hope he appreciates that you did this for him.


PS, Ange, DO NOT look at his profile. ( evil clown alert)



j

I looked. I even braved the clown alert, you silly woman.

 

[Angeline]

Let me know what you think in an honest constructive way....
it is the first time since I left my fiance that I have let anyone read my ramblings. The night I wrote it, I felt like a muse was within me. Thank everyone. Jason


Cloaked in a shroud of dust,
To see a world full of beauty it must.
Laying silent, ready to rise once more
Like a phoenix reborn, opening the future’s door.

The cold of loneliness has long set in
No one has seen where these eyes have been
Ronin, wondering the land, once charged to defend
Yet this Ronin yearns for someone to befriend.

Then a traveler entered the once protected domain
Bringing with her a promise of nulling the pain.
Bearing with her the keys to open a vault filled with emotion,
Should he allow her form to roam free without commotion?

The heart knowing only of dreams once torn asunder
The mind scarred from centuries of endless raging thunder.
A mind that’s vastness of knowledge knew no conceivable bounds
Trapped within by an epic irony; hearing only its echo’s sound

So it is opened, this portal to tomorrow,
Ronin secretly hoping he won’t feel any sorrow
The choice was reserved for him to make,
His heart though seemingly hers to break.

But before the vault’s tumblers would be turned by the traveler’s keys,
The Master of this long forgotten plantation once more stalked amongst the trees
Astonished by the atrocities committed under the auspice of love,
Foiled by the promises of peace and happiness in time brought by a dove.

In one swift motion the defenses that fell attackers in times before,
Were called back to the ramparts for battle once more.
The traveler, once veiled in white tranquility turned from friend to foe,
Now bled with a crimson red blood only appreciated by the circling crow.

Akin to the thrashing akula swimming single mindedly up stream in vain,
If, but for just a moment or two of reprieve from the mental anguish and pain.
Because the traveler’s invaders razed the once fertile plains and streams,
They strangled the once vivid and vibrant life full of dreams.

After the battle had ended, and Ronin knew his sacred duty of Seppuku
He realized that the one final act of an obsidian blade was one he couldn’t do
Ronin was faced with preserving his honor by death with a hand-forged blade,
Or living in disgrace knowing he hadn’t the resolve to follow the promises he had made.

So dishonor would be the course set for the day
Determined by actions or inactions Ronin refused to play.
What honor or purpose is left when your master has died?
Alas, forced to roam the land, resigned; forced to utter a muted sigh.

So Ronin left the moral shackles behind, and ascended to another plane
A plane where time and space were but one, and warriors of old held new fame.
Old forgotten warriors, like Ronin, were given a second chance at their song
To set things right, things that once in their life went somehow, someway wrong

The lone Ronin, seeking to stem the war before the battle ensued
Trying to reconcile all the new information that now he knew.
Ronin recalled his heart was hers to breaks, but somehow calming to remember
It was also his choice when the mind was ready to surrender

The master called out to seventeen generations of blacksmiths,
For a Masamune blade in steel thousand fold that would be no myth
He knew that the armies of his Daimyo must be called in earnest,
If any hope for mind’s survival, blades must be infused with spirits within the furnace.

Ronin rebuilt his fortress in this new realm he called his own,
The masons labored to build, they stacked mortar onto stone.
The walls of the new citadel were impregnable and secure; this new castle was indeed strong
The invaders that sacked the land before would be suicidal to do this warrior’s home wrong

The keep of this fortress, protected in concentric rings of stalwart granite blocks and stone
Posed a formidable defensive perimeter to those that sought to harm even a single sunken bone
At the edge of this pristine castle’s walls, where lands met waters, and waters to lands
One more surprise awaited the traveler and her invading bands

As her Galleons unloaded Myrmidon and their seemingly endless supply of inner fight
The defending Welch bowmen rained down arrows that forced them to hate the even the light.
Following the first wave, riders from the steppes; Cossacks poured into the battle
Sadly though the bowmen’s arrow was a one-way ticket to Cerberus, and off their horse’s saddle.

Finally the day came when Ronin emerged from his fortified throne room of kings
Hands both full with mind and heart, wearing ablative armor, the heralds did sing.
He stood tall against his one time friend which now he called foe,
Ready to cut her down in a single quick desisicive and unyeilding blow.

Reaching to his side to draw out the now ancient forged blade
Ronin drew the Chiyoda and all who stood in opposition, faded away.
Though not in life had Ronin dealt with most grievous of personal fights,
In death Ronin fulfill his sacred birth rite.

Hi and welcome to the poetry forum.

Your poem is way too long as it's currently shaped. I would break it into 3 or 4 pieces. You could number them, and the poem would be more accessible that way. As it is, especially with the jump from shorter to longer strophes, it's really hard to follow. There's nothing wrong with long poems imo. They just need to be shaped for easier digestion by your readers.

I saw many other things I might edit or delete, but I think until you address the presentation, it's hard to get into it.

 

[wildsweetone]

hi blazen and welcome to the poetry forum

i read your poem... and enjoyed the story as it unfolded.

although this poem has a lot of words, i find i have questions that i'd like answered and that involves adding more words *smile*

do you have a title for this poem?

i wonder if it might have a better appearance if each stanza were approximately the same length... i notice that later on in the poem, the lines lengthen considerably, i had no difficulty reading or understanding the story, but i've learnt that a part of poetry is how it looks visually on the page. i know that some of those longer lines could be halved, the rhyme would have to be adjusted, but i'm sure it is possible.

i have a book of Robert Frost poetry and there are some poems in there that go for pages. they have the line length in common though, all are similar length.

there is an alternative to breaking the lines to similar length, you could turn it into another form... maybe prose poetry...? (i'm still learning with this stuff, but i'm sure it would be possible).

your use of the words Ronin and Seppuku piqued my interest, thank you for that, i've looked them up and learnt more.

i wonder what set your muse off to write this poem... did you watch a particular movie or read a particular book? i'm interested and would like to know more. Samurai hold a fascination for me.

thank you for sharing your poem. i hope something i've said here is of help to you.

 

[Senna Jawa]

Hi and welcome to the poetry forum.

Your poem is way too long [...]

And to make her point stronger, Ange has reproduced the _W H O L E_ enchilada.

Regards,

 

[wildsweetone]

And to make her point stronger, Ange has reproduced the _W H O L E_ enchilada.

Regards,

can i just toss a thought for my continued learning, out here...

to my way of thinking, the story in this poem is not a 'minimalist' type of story. it is more an epic. yes?


(Hi Senna Jawa, nice to see you! i hope all is well with you and also with your speedy connection now. )

 

[Senna Jawa]

PS, Ange, DO NOT look at his profile. ( evil clown alert)

blazen = clown. You could know it without checking blazen's profile. Just learn Polish, it will do wonders to your poetry. To be pedantic, it is "błazen", where "L" is slashed "Ł" -- can you see it? It is roughly pronounced as [bwuzen] or [bwuzan], where "u" is pronounces as in "gut". I am not good at such things.

 

[Senna Jawa]

Let me know what you think in an honest constructive way....

Believe me, you don't want to hear it!

 

[ishtat]

You also need to read lots and lots of poems. All of the people above me in this thread write excellent stuff.When I started I found Angeline's work especially helpful. That is not to say the others are unhelpful but initially I found her work easier to 'tune' my mind to.

Don't feel discouraged. Occasionally try to read all of one days new poems all the way through. It'll make you feel better about your work.

 

[Angeline]

blazen = clown. You could know it without checking blazen's profile. Just learn Polish, it will do wonders to your poetry. To be pedantic, it is "błazen", where "L" is slashed "Ł" -- can you see it? It is roughly pronounced as [bwuzen] or [bwuzan], where "u" is pronounces as in "gut". I am not good at such things.

I see it. So blazen is Polish for clown? Are you sure knowing Polish will answer all my poetry questions?

You've mellowed. karmadog always said you're charming.

 

[ghost_girl]

Hi Senna!!

So good to see you around

I am married to a Polish ( of Polish heritage) man, and had no idea that word meant clown. I just remembered that Ange told me once she had somewhat a fear, or dislike of clowns. When I saw that particular one, well, it looks mean, with teeth made for gnashing, and all.

But that's me, Miss Silly... and I rather like that adjective, 'cause have been called much worse. ( but not by any one of the poets on this thread whom I admire)



julie

Blazen, I am looking forward to reading your next version of this poem, if you should decide to work on it...

and, WSO, I knew what Suppuku was, and from a Magnum PI episode, from years ago

xoxox

 

[Angeline]

Hi Senna!!

So good to see you around

I am married to a Polish ( of Polish heritage) man, and had no idea that word meant clown. I just remembered that Ange told me once she had somewhat a fear, or dislike of clowns. When I saw that particular one, well, it looks mean, with teeth made for gnashing, and all.

But that's me, Miss Silly... and I rather like that adjective, 'cause have been called much worse. ( but not by any one of the poets on this thread whom I admire)



julie

Blazen, I am looking forward to reading your next version of this poem, if you should decide to work on it...

and, WSO, I knew what Suppuku was, and from a Magnum PI episode, from years ago

xoxox

No I don't like clowns. I find them depressing and creepy. Maybe it's the serial killr connection. Or watching the Twilight Zone when I was a kid and the Outer Limits. They always had episodes with clown dolls or ventriliquist's dummies coming to life as evil beings. Gives me the jim-jams.

 

[Rumpleteazer]

still

i just thought it was wayyy to long

but hey i like short & sweet

 

[Unbridled_Passion]

All in all, I like the story that you are trying to get across here, but I have to agree with the others...the length and very long lines are distracting to the story line. Personally, I enjoy rhyming poetry if it doesn't seem forced. Hopefully, you will find some of this to be helpful to you, and you will continue to write. It can be very calming and rewarding!

 

[blazen]

Hey everyone, I really do appreciate the feedback.If anyone has any more suggestion, additions, deletions, please send them my way. This is the major poem I have penned, and I am looking for any advice. Thank you for you cander, and if anyone has anything to add/ delete or suggestion please let me now.

Thanks guys and girls- I apptriate it. TIIA