Wall ~ wanting feedback and reviews.

[Gothickun]

Wall

Lost inside the Spiral,
swirling mist around
the path that calls to
be followed.

Falsely spoken to, led
to the Bog that swallows
all reason and all under
standing. Drowned.

God
damn
fuck it

Speculation rose inside,
assumption eating up
the midst inside the path
and the path: Lost.

Hidden by a sea of leaves,
green, or brown, or yellow.
Nonetheless the physical
is locked away from the
spiritual.

God
stands
and I.

The key, lost in the fury
of the secular, shies from
the sectarian violence of the world.
Abhor anchors the mist.

The Spiral grows and drowns the voice
and calls me forth, and pushes me.
Forward I must go, with or without
the key, the voice of Reason.

To drown in eternal confusion.

 

[Senna Jawa]

You are phrasing some (unclear) opinions and views in an irregular (messy) language. To me it's not poetry but blah-blah-blah. You will find people to which your text is poetry; especially, when they write in a similar manner, and when you consider their blah-blah to be poetry then they will possibly reciprocate (some of them). Thus you can get some mileage with this kind of texts.

Regards,

 

[Liar]

Hi Gothickun and welcome to the forum.

As harsh as Senna's feedback may sound (he's nothing if not forthright ), I urge you to consider it. You show that you have a good grip of your vocabulary and here and there you employ some innovative phrasing with good cadence, which tells me it could get really interresting in another poem.

But here I just see one abstract phrase after another, and I can't for the life of me figure out what the poem is, in fact, about. So unless confusion is the reaction you were trying to get out of your reader (in this case, me), I suggest you take a few steps back and ask yourself "how will a reader precieve this?" It's often easy to get tangled up in one's own writing, and to believe that references, metaphors and stuff written "between the lines" will be as obvious to everyone else as it is to you the writer. That is most often not the case.

Well, that's my 2c. I hope it makes sense and is somewhat useful to you. Best of luck.

 

[Gothickun]

Hi Gothickun and welcome to the forum.

As harsh as Senna's feedback may sound (he's nothing if not forthright ), I urge you to consider it. You show that you have a good grip of your vocabulary and here and there you employ some innovative phrasing with good cadence, which tells me it could get really interresting in another poem.

But here I just see one abstract phrase after another, and I can't for the life of me figure out what the poem is, in fact, about. So unless confusion is the reaction you were trying to get out of your reader (in this case, me), I suggest you take a few steps back and ask yourself "how will a reader precieve this?" It's often easy to get tangled up in one's own writing, and to believe that references, metaphors and stuff written "between the lines" will be as obvious to everyone else as it is to you the writer. That is most often not the case.

Well, that's my 2c. I hope it makes sense and is somewhat useful to you. Best of luck.

*shrugs* I asked for the criticism, I should be able to take it, right? And yes, only reason I posted this one was just for that. I keep reading this one over and over again and it makes no sense in my mind. I mean, I understand what I was trying to say, but not that I conveyed it right. I liked how I wrote it, not how I phrased it.

 

[Liar]

*shrugs* I asked for the criticism, I should be able to take it, right?

Good man. You'd be surprised how many there is who asks for it, but turn all porcupine when they get what they asked for.

 

[Angeline]

Wall

Lost inside the Spiral,
swirling mist around
the path that calls to
be followed.

Falsely spoken to, led
to the Bog that swallows
all reason and all under
standing. Drowned.

God
damn
fuck it

Speculation rose inside,
assumption eating up
the midst inside the path
and the path: Lost.

Hidden by a sea of leaves,
green, or brown, or yellow.
Nonetheless the physical
is locked away from the
spiritual.

God
stands
and I.

The key, lost in the fury
of the secular, shies from
the sectarian violence of the world.
Abhor anchors the mist.

The Spiral grows and drowns the voice
and calls me forth, and pushes me.
Forward I must go, with or without
the key, the voice of Reason.

To drown in eternal confusion.

I was gonna comment on your poem yesterday (but I was baking all day). I'm glad to see the other comments you got. They're good advice. You are good with words and you have a good sense of timing. Those are natural gifts, but you have to build on them to make poetry. Your poem deals entirely in abstractions. It could be about someone you love, war, some personal struggle, anything. The words fit grammatically, but what does it mean?

When I read a poem I am moved (if I am moved) by images that are so specific and textured I can feel them. I can put myself in the poem. When that happens I know I've read good poetry. There's nothing for me to hang onto in your poem.

I agree that the best thing to do is read a lot of poetry. When you find poems you absolutely love, ask yourself why. Write a list of the things you see working in poems you love. Think of how your experiences or fantasies, whatever, could be conveyed similarly. How can you use the strengths you see in poems you read and love in your own writing? If you continue to do that and keep reading and writing, you will get better and better at it.

 

[Gothickun]

Screw Wall, I like Star Thief better!

I think this poem is too abstract to save. I have no clue-- other than that I was listening to Tool when I wrote it-- what I was trying to say.

My abstract poem: Maybe it will mean something to someone somewhere?

I actually like this poem of mine. Any way I can make this better? (As I see it, maybe the contractions need removing, but I had no other way to make those two lines ten syllables long without using it. Man, they will be a bitch to edit!)

Star Thief

How weird this day has been, begun like a
spell. How I walk past the trees that shed a
tear, run a tad faster past the line that
separates you from us. Look at the stars!
they signal the form of everlasting
light, but look at that star! Look how it fades!
Mightily it sat out in outer space.
I took it down, kept it safe inside my
pocket. How you slept on the grass, benight
the comfort of your precious hopes and dreams.
I stole this star for me, to remember
that I still love your smile, and eyes, and I
have got to release you from my grasp. I
feel so much at ease, knowing you still love
me. But if I may please say: Let me go.
I can’t really stay, we have made our choice.

I run and run and finally come to
a stop. My left hand ablaze and in flames.
The stinging ling’ring, perpetually brings
my mem’ries singing to a heart that has
not yet left you in the past. The tree leaf,
akin to the scene I have found myself
in, lands on or near my fingertips while
my heart screams in fear that I’ve already
killed all that was green, happy and mellow.

A star that has been plucked from heaven I
hide. Shall I bring my self to gaze upon
it like a firefly captured to be set
free or covet it like a thief does a
precious gem? See it in my hand and I
hesitate, a hand from behind grabs my
arm, holds it tight and I let the star go.

“That star you hold will only burn, let it
be free, see it still in the heavens where
it belongs. Let the pain and fear wash far
away. Your light-- a star cannot match-- I
find so much more beautiful. To have a
day spent with just you and me, my wish I
say, I pray out loud to your twinkling eyes.”

And she stood there, with a smile on her face.
And she stood there, if the world didn’t matter.
And she kissed me, breathing from the joy of
giving this tattered, old star thief a kiss.

(Line 9: Benight. I know there has to be another word that can take its place, I just don't know what.)

(Line 11: Would "to remember" sound better if it said "to remind me"?)