Topic: Poetry Corner

[Spencer B]

Sneaky? I have no idea what you're talking about... <.<

[CrazyKatie]

Sneaky? I have no idea what you're talking about... <.<

Aw look at the innocent little cherub... hang on are those horns?

[Spencer B]

Aw look at the innocent little cherub... hang on are those horns?

._.

I'm not innocent. Just tactful and care-free.

[CrazyKatie]

   ...   hmmm

[Spencer B]

   ...   hmmm

That's very creepy.

[CrazyKatie]

I do my best
 
  I like this smiley

[Spencer B]

I do my best
 
  I like this smiley

It's weird is what is?

[CrazyKatie]

It looks like my daddy when he is being obstinate or purposefully infuriating.

[sazak97]

Got lots offour stuff for you:
There is no such thing as a truly random number,
just cause your screwed doesnt mean you need to stop,
if humans can connect their minds then we would all be lessened will ascending the stairs to glory,
nature did not intend us to leave or duties but plaesure us with the spoils of thought,
if others look down upon you dig down to china,
randomness is a way to evoke ones emotions in a way they cant do,
All of these are by Adam Payne(me)

[CrazyKatie]

I wrote this almost two years ago when I learned that one of my very best friends was leaving at the end of the semester. I was so mad at him.

Scream

Fury full
Head back
Hands clenched
Standing tall
Broken sanity
Starved for vengeance
Spirit unbroken
Mouth open
Lungs full
     Screaming into the Night

[Andrew Stockton]

Breathe

Tears unshed, and light unshown,
Barren 'scape of lightning dry.
My mind a hellish place, where demons lurk in twisted trees' shadows.
And the wind, sad, isolated, cold, harsh.Don't need four adjectives here. Feels excessive.
To see the sun a faintest dream, to feel the ambrosia simply of water,
A broken dream.
But, a melody comes running through,
Sweet, soft, and hope arises,
Deep breath, and dreams untold, sprouts again the seeds of joy.
Cloud break, parched ground softened, trees burnt long ago, scars, collapse to ash
Shining light, piercing soft clouds, feeding growth of love, hope, and joy,
And I live. I live again, or maybe finally, but...
I live!

It's obvious that you love to write. And I feel like you might best be benefited by a general overview of some issues rather than a specific, nitpicking critique of this particular piece.
First of all, don't try to hard to sound "poetic". I see this reflected in a bunch of places here, like your somewhat-archaic "scape", your frequent sentence inversions (My mind a hellish place, where demons lurk in twisted trees' shadows, etcetera) , the way you put "un" in front of words (untold, unshown, untold), and use of cliches such as shining light. Try to be honest to yourself. Don't write like you think poetry is supposed to sound, write how you feel inside your mind. Truly. If you're honest, people will believe you. This, on the other hand, sounds somewhat cheesy and unauthentic because of the "poetic" conventions that are used.

Try to personalize and contextualize the poem. Right now, you're using stock words like "shining, twisted, parched". Not that these words are bad, but you need to find your own vocabulary, words you can make your own to create your own unique voice. As for context, think about what's happening in the poem. Again, very general word usage limits my interaction with this piece. You talk about the sky, your mind, a barren landscape, but I don't have a background to place the action of this poem against. Personalize, personalize, personalize! Add some narrative energy to this!

That's enough stuff for now, I think. Try to write something from your own experience, that I can read and come away thinking "Mmmm. Tastes like Spencer B!"
Ok, that came out sounding so wrong.
But still, the point stands.

Final note: Please don't take it personally if you think this is harsh. I think you have some potential as a writer, and you have an exuberance that shines through this piece. I am honestly trying my best to help you out, and my stuff isn't the best either.
Peace, dude. I'll look forward to your next.

[Spencer B]

The best poetry, nay, the best of everything is gained from a robust mix of both new and old, creative  and cliche. Mix and match for the best fit.

Me

Of my simple mind,
Comes true thought,
And of my simple thoughts,
Come brilliance.

For anytime, for anyplace,
Where I am not myself,
Devil's reign supreme,
And hell is a tasteful place.

To know me,
Easy,
To trust me,
Easy.
As I am myself.

To challenge me,
Challenge my pride,
Suffer my ego's wrath,
And face will proved God's-strong,
Weather whirlwind of King's felt indignation...!

So words and critics sting fall short,
Where misinterpretation strikes harsh,
Stripping feathers from raptor-bird's breast,
A bird who knows what he is.

Claws sharpened, honed,
Cry of razing call,
Beak of blood-edged bone,
Flying, flashing and striking glance.

At insults borne unknown,
To this great birds pride,
To fluster a posh man's feathers,
And rage inside for time.


I understand what you're saying with your criticism, but that one you critiqued was a personal experience, set only in my mind. Also, I am only ever myself. If I ever show you a facade, show you something that is NOT me, then hell hath frozen, and heaven become hell. These are were my personal insult were drawn from. I am indignant, I am rustled, ruffled, and ready to argue, so I will just go to sleep now.

[turtlekarma]

COD -modern warfare
CODWAW
COD2
 

[Andrew Stockton]

Okay.
I'm just going to say what I'm thinking without any cushioning, because you're going to take offense in any case. Please try to keep in mind that I'm just giving you my opinion, but it's an opinion seasoned by almost a year and a half of reading, writing, and critiquing poetry almost every day.

    I accept that it was personal experience, if you say it was. But your language is so grandoise and melodramatic that it's hard to connect (this is something I was going to get to later). Frankly, compared to anything I've read in the past, your writing is very ornate. But all this decoration serves to make you look pretentious, rather than making me believe in what I'm reading and be affected by it. In this piece above me, you respond with anger and indignation. You literally compare yourself to a mighty eagle about to smite me, to a King (capital K included). This is so prideful I almost laughed out loud when I read it. One of the cardinal rules of poetry is to not let your ego get in the way of your writing. It comes off sounding petty.

    I flat-out disagree with you that poetry is best produced using a mix of creativity and cliche. Cliches make me pass over a line, a phrase, a whole piece. They are something I've seen a million times before and therefore have lost all emotional attachment to. Readers respond to cliches either with cynicism or with nothing at all. I agree that old techniques can be used to create effective poetry, but you need to know how to use them. You need to able to employ them with maturity, care, and experience. I myself try to avoid archaic forms and syntax as much as possible, because I'd look like a fool trying to put it into a poem.

Also, everything I said about personalization and contextualization still stands.

[Spencer B]

    I flat-out disagree with you that poetry is best produced using a mix of creativity and cliche. Cliches make me pass over a line, a phrase, a whole piece. They are something I've seen a million times before and therefore have lost all emotional attachment to. Readers respond to cliches either with cynicism or with nothing at all. I agree that old techniques can be used to create effective poetry, but you need to know how to use them. You need to able to employ them with maturity, care, and experience. I myself try to avoid archaic forms and syntax as much as possible, because I'd look like a fool trying to put it into a poem.

I will agree that cliche was the wrong word. Cliche means by it's nature something that is boring and trite. Perhaps tried and true is a better phrasing for what I intended.

Okay.
I'm just going to say what I'm thinking without any cushioning, because you're going to take offense in any case. Please try to keep in mind that I'm just giving you my opinion, but it's an opinion seasoned by almost a year and a half of reading, writing, and critiquing poetry almost every day.

I take offense not at what you are directly stating, but what you are unintentionally implying. If you can not understand that, then I see no reason to even continue this discussion... However, seeing as I all but stated the reason for indignation flat-out, then I must actually confront you about it.

You insulted, very bluntly, very crassly, and boorishly my pride, my ego, my sheer, pure dignity with your statement about me not being true to myself. I take great pride, Hubris, in my intentions to always do just exactly that. Look at any of my posts, and while you will find my average language is perhaps lower than when I write poetry, it is also for the sake of time. I use the words I do when I write to grant specific emphasis and context to the piece. As for personalization, has it even crossed your mind that I simply am as such; A person who likes describing specifically, with very narrow-based words, experiences and emotions?

    I accept that it was personal experience, if you say it was. But your language is so grandoise and melodramatic that it's hard to connect (this is something I was going to get to later). Frankly, compared to anything I've read in the past, your writing is very ornate. But all this decoration serves to make you look pretentious, rather than making me believe in what I'm reading and be affected by it. In this piece above me, you respond with anger and indignation. You literally compare yourself to a mighty eagle about to smite me, to a King (capital K included). This is so prideful I almost laughed out loud when I read it. One of the cardinal rules of poetry is to not let your ego get in the way of your writing. It comes off sounding petty.

My Pride is something that is very difficult to damage. My Ego, hard to truly rile. My Dignity, nigh impossible to ruffle, and yet, SOMEHOW, you have done exactly that! Throughout this response I've had to force down like bile the thought of being petty and insulting you. Throughout this post, I've had to repulse the idea of calling you out on hypocrisy of pretentiousness, on being a damned preacher, telling the masses not to sin, them fornicating with his neighbors wife every night.

One of the Cardinal rules is to not let your ego get in the way of your writing. Perhaps you should read your own words the next time you make a post!

[Andrew Stockton]

Eh. You still don't understand what I'm saying.
But I won't continue this discussion, because I don't think it benefits anyone to have a thread that consists of the two of us arguing. I hope we can interact politely, at least, in the future.
Peace.

[KyleWP]

I haven't written in quite a long while, but I'll throw up some of the bits I've done in the past. Critiques are appreciated.

Lethe

Rimes of frost in the stillborn air
Mingle with bodies all around;
Quiet tears for silent stares
Of the fallen upon these sacred grounds.

Cry alone for those now gone,
Walk the shores of eternal Lethe,
But sing requiem for those at peace.

The battle, hard and long
Always fought, and never won;
Bathed by blood, built of stone
Far from love, far from home.

Stand beside the granite slate
With flowers draped upon the silent graves
For those that sleep, lie in wait
Amidst their kin, until the end of days.

[Drew H]

Very good stuff guys...

Recently inspired by a break-up

Thought

I see you floating there
Amidst the thoughts of fear
I push you to the back of my mind
But, prominent your face may be

I think of you know
I thought of you then
I know your face
will always lay down with me

Only when your gentle voice speaks
does the reaper weep
and rejoice in thy name
for my love for you burns
however red the fire may be
but the blue season change
As you stand there without me...

[Jeremy Osborn]

  wow, that was really good Drew! I liked it

[Drew H]

wow, that was really good Drew! I liked it

Thanks, this time I think I conveyed my actual feelings about her...

Only a few weeks too late, lol.