Please Help - Non Erotic

[JackOffJimmy]

Can anyone help turn the following into poetry? or is it better left in prose? I'd appreciate advice either way.

Thanks,
Steve

The Race

I have had this dream many times now.

I have just arrived at an Olympic stadium. The confetti is on the ground and the balloons are drifting high in the atmosphere. The stands are mostly full but the crowd is thinning. The murmur of voices is loud as the people talk about what they have seen tonight. The incense and ashes of spent fireworks drift through the air.
As I come running out unto the track I can feel the thickness of my heart clogging my throat. With all that I am I cry out in a voice that is over run by the din of the crowd, "Let me race. I can win this one." I plead to every one and no one, "I am worthy of this prize. I can value it. I will cherish this one. I will keep it warm and safe in my house all the days of my life. I will polish it and burnish it to make it more beautiful every day. This prize is beautiful now, yet with my love and care it can be more." The tears blur my vision and the knowing doom stirs in my core. I plead, "Let me run this race. I was born to win this one contest!"

No one hears me. No one pauses to notice my pleas. I can see the prize, it blazes, seeming to call to me. I am as a bit of confetti blowing across the track.

Panic and desperation burst from within my soul as I turn to run to the podium where he who won the race stands. My throat can make no sound save the rasps for air. My mouth has gone dry from the fear in my heart. My lips tremble with the sadness knowing my race is lost.

Here I stand trying to win a race that has already run. Impossible, yet my soul bid me try. Knowing I can never win my essence must rail for there is no other prize in my world.

Does the winner care? Is he born for the prize? Can his soul ache to possess it as must I? Does he see the true value or was his a race of convenience and comfort or chance?

If ever this man who holds the prize should cast it down or treat it with neglect or despise, please dear Lisa call me to race.

Then, I will not fail to have the prize of your love.

 

[vampiredust]

I think it sounds better in prose. But if you wanted to turn into poetry then I'd recommend you run through it with a comb, keeping only the parts then would add value to the narrative and not bog it down. Focus on the detail.

Hope this helps

 

[unpredictablebijou]

I would say this is best in prose. It's got some very "poetic" phrasing; things like the phrase "burst from within my soul" but i think it's better left as a sort of "prose-poem."

I like the detail you've captured, and the dramatic language is really appropriate for a love letter (which is what I'm guessing this is, basically) and pretty creative in spots.

just one opinion
bijou

 

[Angeline]

Can anyone help turn the following into poetry? or is it better left in prose? I'd appreciate advice either way.

Thanks,
Steve

The Race

I have had this dream many times now.

I have just arrived at an Olympic stadium. The confetti is on the ground and the balloons are drifting high in the atmosphere. The stands are mostly full but the crowd is thinning. The murmur of voices is loud as the people talk about what they have seen tonight. The incense and ashes of spent fireworks drift through the air.
As I come running out unto the track I can feel the thickness of my heart clogging my throat. With all that I am I cry out in a voice that is over run by the din of the crowd, "Let me race. I can win this one." I plead to every one and no one, "I am worthy of this prize. I can value it. I will cherish this one. I will keep it warm and safe in my house all the days of my life. I will polish it and burnish it to make it more beautiful every day. This prize is beautiful now, yet with my love and care it can be more." The tears blur my vision and the knowing doom stirs in my core. I plead, "Let me run this race. I was born to win this one contest!"

No one hears me. No one pauses to notice my pleas. I can see the prize, it blazes, seeming to call to me. I am as a bit of confetti blowing across the track.

Panic and desperation burst from within my soul as I turn to run to the podium where he who won the race stands. My throat can make no sound save the rasps for air. My mouth has gone dry from the fear in my heart. My lips tremble with the sadness knowing my race is lost.

Here I stand trying to win a race that has already run. Impossible, yet my soul bid me try. Knowing I can never win my essence must rail for there is no other prize in my world.

Does the winner care? Is he born for the prize? Can his soul ache to possess it as must I? Does he see the true value or was his a race of convenience and comfort or chance?

If ever this man who holds the prize should cast it down or treat it with neglect or despise, please dear Lisa call me to race.

Then, I will not fail to have the prize of your love.

I tend to agree with the others here that this works well as poetic prose.

But.

If I were going to attempt to turn it into a poem I think I'd start by underlining the phrases that show what is happening: not the explanation but the phrases that are images (for example, "confetti on ground" "balloons drifting high" and so on). Then list those phrases in an order that makes sense to you and take a hard look at them. Are pieces missing that you want to convey? Write phrases for them and add them in the appropriate places. At that point you can decide if what you have can work as a poem, and you can start to think about line breaks and whether you have the best words to say what you want. If you get to this point and you prefer the prose, no biggie right? But if you decide you want to continue to explore making it a poem (instead of poetic prose), you'll be well on your way.

Everyone is different. I'd find that sort of exercise fun. Others might not. But you'll never know if it's to your taste unless you give it a try, eh?

 

[annaswirls]

you got some great positives in previous posts, I am jumping right in....hope you do not mind my not throwing in any cushions

why do you want to make this into a poem? just curious....





If you want to write a poem about the dream, I think you really need to boil down the experience into its essence.

Questions to ask yourself: Why is this dream important to you? So important to you that you want to share it with others. Obviously it represents another prize, love... work with that.

Why are the images you selected important to the essence of the poem? I do not see a poem in this story yet because I am not so sure you have fully figured out why it is important to you-- writing is a wonderful way to get to the reason something sticks with you--self psychoanalysis-- or maybe you have figured out the real reason why this dream "haunts" you-- the underlying meaning....the hard, sometimes painful part, is finding that seed and finding a way to plant it in the reader so it can grow....into something maybe different that what grew in you, but into something meaningful.

Good luck! Please post it here if you go for it!


ps long shot: after reading your description of the dream--the main feeling I was left with was: why does he think he deserves the prize more than the person who actually won?

I did not find an answer in there--so if you have the answer, maybe put it in... but maybe that is the point of the poem and the dream-- maybe you have self-doubt that makes you think that you do not really deserve the prize-- that would make for a very interesting poem-- wanting it really really badly is not enough. I was struck by the fact that you just showed up after the crowd was thinning, just showed up (no evidence of training or preparation) and wanted IN to the race, no you did not just want in, you wanted to WIN. something to think about. I may be totally off. Just my impression.

 

[JackOffJimmy]

Wonderful insite

First,
thank you to the four who have taken the time to reply.

Second,
I have felt I have a fair grasp of prose and imagery. I believe that completing good poetry, not the stuff that sounds like it was written by a fith grade student copying a McDonalds commerical, is a streach to my skills. Perhaps demonstrating to my friend how important her affection is to me. I believe to present a gift that is difficult to obtain conveys a much more powerful message than something that only requires a minimal effort. That is why knights have to slay dragons to win the hand of a fair maden, instead of bringing the milk in from the stable to do the same. although I suspect I have read more poetery than 90 per cent of Americans and do appreciate quality work I have had no training and will take all of your suggestions to improve this piece. Similarly I can admire a work by Da Vinci but can not begin to compose a painting any where near as well as he.

Thirdly,
where this comes from:
I have had a friend for three years now. our relation was purely platonic until six months ago. we have found that we are "soul mates. " We have not had physical relations. I know in my core she is the one person that can complete my world. She has told me the same. A complication is that her mother had several husbands & boyfriends as my friend grew up. When the mother left her teen aged daughter with her stepfather to find another man my friend swore to herself she would never be like her mother. That commitment is one I will never try to break. I desire she come to me but will not force her to do so. My friend believes she must remain in a relationship no matter how cold and dead it becomes. I have seen the man insult her and treat her as a second class. I have had plenty of other relationships through my life & this one has been like no other. We have not had relations because she is married & we want to know that if ever we should join I could trust her & he confide in me. Odd as it seems I'd rather never have sex with her with the small chance that some day we could be together & I could have faith in her & she in me than to go ahead and couplelate and never trust again. This is why I am late to the race. She married before we knew each other. I am late because I didn't know there was a race for this prize as I didn't know the prize existed. If her mate were providing complete love to my friend she would not be in need of an emotional involvement with me.

Fourth,
I have not decided if I am going to pursue her forever or if it is better to let her go and hope she finds her way back to me. Although I am leaning toward the latter and hoping to use this short as a way of communicating where I am to my friend. I am hoping the process of writing & discussing this will help me decide the best course for us. Its not as if one can go to their priest or friends or parents for advice about an emotional affair with a married woman.