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1/1/2017 5:33:38 PM
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Hello World
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Hi, I'm new. But you knew that. Glad to join and be able to read such a huge range of writing styles. Also excited to get some feedback on my work.
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1/1/2017 5:54:42 PM
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The Good Citizen's Creed
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Weeks slip
Dreams flip
Again & again
It'll happen in ten
nine eight seven six
Good little workers pick up sticks
five four three two
Dear little baby, the next one is you
Eat your bread
Go to bed
The clock strikes ten
Again & again
We are free men
Just a' waitin' for when
that whistle gets blown
lettin' us go on home
Where we bow down our faces and give thanks at last
to our Savior, our Comrade, bless'd Iconoclast
Red little hen
You remember when
you told us we should know
that you reap what you sow
"We should have that bread too!"
We demanded of you
Yet you selfishly stood & reminded us that
Idle souls crave, while the earnest get fat
Old ways
By-gone days
We were bound by The Ten
Again & again
We are surely free now
Hen was old anyhow
Now we toil at will
In the field, in the mill
Done away with that moral delusion of old
We've evolved, we are free, we will not be controlled
Now rid from the rule of that fairy Godhead
Our new leader has graced us with Circus & Bread
Gladly we serve that new champion of ours
Who has sworn to deliver us straight to the stars
"1. Simply do as I say
2. And you mustn't to pray
3. And lay down your arms, you're now free from all harms
4. And pay me your dues
5. And allow me to choose, what's best from your head right down to your shoes
6. Give me your blood
7. And your sweat
8. And your tears, For only through I can you live out your years, hand in hand with your brother, your sister, your friend, In prosperity, lightness, and peace till the end
9. And promise to love me with all of your heart
10. Swear that, even in famine, we never shall part"
So we strap on our boots, march in line nice & straight
For our liberator, our darling, The State.
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1/1/2017 6:18:44 PM
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One of my personal favorites, but not so with PS.
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Love this. This poem is similar to how I write some of mine, lots of archaic references and imagery, gods and mythology.. Absolutely love it. I certainly wouldn't mind some feedback on some of my poetry if you ever get the chance.
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1/2/2017 8:19:48 PM
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The Good Citizen's Creed
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Thank you Doug, really appreciate the feedback!
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1/2/2017 8:31:28 PM
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Rocket Ship People - My First Ballad
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Was feeling somewhat heartbroken when I wrote this, and had also been listening to way too much DMB. I imagine some instrumentation going along with this, so please excuse the jaunty meter, I think of this ultimately as something to be sung.
Send that message
That signal so far
Is there a tower, some beam
That could speak to that distant star
A million miles
Separated
Years on that rocket
Could get anyone jaded
We looked up as kids
That glitter caught our eyes
Stole our hearts
Spun beautiful lies
How pretty those stars were
To we who didn't know better
Now to think, we can catch those dreams?
How silly
How childish of a dream that seems
Those stars and their lovely call
Telling us they weren't really that far at all
How so very pretty they were
To we, captivated, who didn't know better
Should've known better
Years on that ship
In the dark
In the cold
In those places
Where space is
So twisted and uncontrolled
So close we come
To the warmth of that distant Sun
Cast out again
In our rocket we spin
Flung into the deep and the darkness we float again
Lost and trying to find
Blink that message out to
Some other lonely mind
Not sure it will land when we're this far out
Where words fall like feathers
The silence a deafening shout
How so very pretty those stars still are
We do know better
But will still go so far
Through that crystal wall
Cold
Never ending
Straight into those glittering flames
Heart rending
Should've known better
Will never know better
What code is that beaming
That we could know better
God knows we try
Though our message lost
In that vacuum between where our signal gets tossed
about
Battered and broken
Words bridging the void just
To never be spoken
Its meaning we dance
about
We were taught so much better
Why don't we do better
Than flying alone
Should be cruising the stars together
How loud
How big
Should that signal be
Put a tower on the moon
If it'll call you to me
To visit those glittering specks we admired
Validate and make real that to which we aspired
Lost a wing?
Here take mine
May take a while, but we'll get there in time
Better late than never
Seeing wonders together
Than spinning out, fuel down low, lost to forever
There is a better
Not hard to do better
Sift through the noise
For that message to weather
The chaos, the static, the cosmic melee
So two rockets can find
One another
And play
In the glittering warmth of some star far away.
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1/2/2017 8:45:17 PM
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writers block
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Usually my writer's block comes when I try too hard to fit words into an idea or concept I have. The moment I stop trying to "fit" the words is when they start to flow. I wrote a ballad about lack of communication in love, and for hours tried so hard to fit different words/themes/myths about love into my poem. It was so forced. I stopped, took a deep breath, and envisioned what my feelings looked like, and just described what I was seeing. For me, this "envisioning" technique works every time. You just have to be OK with letting go of some expectations you might have had for how the poem would look/feel/read. Just let it flow by describing what you see in your mind's eye.
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1/3/2017 3:02:49 PM
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Rocket Ship People - My First Ballad
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Yeah it's not exactly perfect as far as having a very formal refrain, mostly the "doing/knowing/should've done" better sections act as a loose refrain. I wrote this poem as a metaphor for 2 lovers fighting and unable to communicate with each other, and all the miscommunication, distractions of daily life, stubborness, expectations acting as barriers to receiving/sending our messages in a way that can be understood. The loneliness of space, for me, illustrates the loneliness of of being physically close to someone and yet absolutely unable to communicate effectively.
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11/12/2018 5:50:47 AM
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Woman (Please critique)
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I agree with Frank on reading aloud and making sure the rhythm is on point. The poem has good rhythm in certain areas, but is a bit awkward in other areas. In my opinion, a poem should not only be consistent in the story it tells, but also consistent stylistically.
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11/12/2018 6:03:50 AM
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A Nihilisitic Pen (Would Appreciate Any Feedback)
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Frank wrote:
"A crude tool" - a nice way of describing an instrument that writes down language, but after that you lose me: "corpses of the animate" - how do the animate have corpses since they're, well, still alive?
~ Try saying it in plainer language.
~And perhaps look up the meaning of "nihilism" - not sure what you're getting at with that in the title.
I agree with Frank's first point, unless what you mean is that the animate are living corpses (somewhat tying in to the Nihilism theme, evoking images of apathetic sacks of life walking around in meaninglessness.)
I agree as well that plainer language would benefit this poem. It seems like their is a desire in this poem to get out a lot of a certain type of imagery and mood without ensuring that the words actually make any sense together. It sounds like you have a lot of feelings/perspectives that you want to convey, but simply having powerful words placed next to each other does not automatically convey anything.
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11/12/2018 6:06:36 AM
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Elle to Abe
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~ A modern/personal take on Alexander Pope's "Eloisa to Abelard"
It is thought that the following lines are a call to action from Pope for other poets to carry on in re-telling the story of Eloisa and Abelard:
~"Such if there be, who loves so long, so well;
Let him our sad, our tender story tell;
The well-sung woes will soothe my pensive ghost;
He best can paint 'em, who shall feel 'em most."
~I've definitely taken quite a few licenses in making this "re-telling" my own, but hopefully its enough to soothe that "pensive ghost".
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Enjoy..
How cryptic would I have to be to get this off my chestOne score and yet it seems like yesterday it was the bestMost simple feeling that a girl could ever come to realizeA moment and a smile, gone and lost in big, sea-colored eyesIll-fated from the start, but gotta hand it to us kidsWho tried and failed and tried again, a love that popped the lidsOff every pressurized container of some crucial expectationHand in hand we walked a path of gorgeous ruinationThrashing in the beating lightFloating through the haze at night..Swimming through the sound of a Revolver…We heard each other speak, though not a single word was utteredDo you wonder what I wonder?On the times that split in twoOne path that leads me hereAnd one that leads me straight right back to youOh yes, sometimes I wonder if the fates have just been tryin’To make you my Billy Crystal and make me your sweet Meg RyanSo long from nowSo long for nowIts fun to stay and playWith these daydreams of a time that coulda-woulda’d in charming wayStraight into my own beating heart, dancing to a tuneOh sweet melody, sweet beat and rhymeHold tight and take me to the moonYes, whisper me a promise that I still could hold the keyTo a world that never will become, where you’re still holding meSome blameless vestal never that I wasThe shackles of insipid bliss could never give me causeTo laugh or love or live or cry or screamOr give any of the signals that my life is real and not a dreamEternal storm cloud of the spotted mindYour turmoil more belov’d by me for all that you’ve divinedOf the flavors that make life all worth the livingThe painful truths and hard earned proofs, the taking and the givingAsk me once, just once, if I’d go back and change it allWould I unburn every bridge we torched or rebuild every crumbled wall?I may as well be asked if I’d sell off my precious soulIn exchange for heady smoke and glitt’ring mirrors, all that would consoleThose gasping for reprieve from all the spice and fire and life and lightIllusion, sweet illusion that what’s wrong is wrong and right is right!So know this, that I often thinkIf even a thousand miles could sinkIf even a thousand years could make me blink away the mem’riesOf some distant love that made me gaze up to the stars in wonderOf some reckless love that charged the world with tearing us asunderAnd could I ask once more if you do wonder what I wonderOr if I’m the only fool to bare in rhyme this mortal blunderOf looking back if only for vain curiosityYes, I do know better than to ask the crime to gaze on meOnce more as in those sweet immortal times that we’ve forgotIf for nothing more than that my reverie is not for naught
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