Towers like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky.
A memory of packed cities
of crowds that shuffled by.

The promise of cold silence
of store fronts now laid bare.
2020 the year of the virus
of emptied streets everywhere.

Tv screens flicker blue
to the box lose your brain.
The media hypes the fear
of the novel Covid strain.

(05-06-2020, 11:55 PM)Greywolf Wrote:  Towers like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky.
A memory of packed cities
of crowds that shuffled by.

The promise of cold silence
of store fronts now laid bare.
2020 the year of the virus
of emptied streets everywhere.

Tv screens flicker blue
to the box lose your brain.
The media hypes the fear
of the novel Covid strain.

Are you new to poetry Greywolf because it seems that your poetry shows that, also I think you have a poem here it just needs some more imagery and a sense of smell, touch, I can see but I also cannot hear, interesting stuff though, this Covid-19 business is really starting to wear off though so that is some good news.
Hi,

What are some good examples of imagery, smell and touch? May I please have an example? I have searched the forum for your work and how you would write however I have only been able to find critiques.

(05-09-2020, 02:30 PM)JaggedEdge Wrote:  An example would be something concrete, I think you know what I am talking about.

Hi,

I’m not trying to be obtuse. I don’t follow...I am new.

(05-10-2020, 04:41 AM)JaggedEdge Wrote:  I have no idea how to explain "add more imagery" to you, your going to have to make them descriptive.

I understand that you have no idea as to how to explain “add more imagery” but as an individual who knows enough about poetry to critique, I thought I may get an example of how you may personally word one of the stanzas which you feel is lacking. The last time I previously made work more descriptive I was told the work was too “flowery” and to simplify. As such I’m getting the impression that good or bad poetry can be dependant on personal taste?

Here,s an example of an image. Your first line is an image ( simile)


Tower's like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky.

The second verse is just the telling of a story void of imagery, (simile or metaphor) as does the last verse.

If you had an image in each verse your poem would improve.
An image is an image, it can be as flowery or as unfollowers as you the writer make it. Beware of cliche, (of crowds that shuffled by) turn it into an image ( of sheep that shuffled by) one word can change a tell (story) to an image. If someone advise you to use more imagery, no need to call them out just google imagery in Google. We also have a some threads in the forum that can explain it, or simply ask in the discussion forum.

Greywolf Wrote:Towers like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky.
A memory of packed cities
of crowds that shuffled by.

The promise of cold silence
of store fronts now laid bare.
2020 the year of the virus
of emptied streets everywhere.

Tv screens flicker blue
to the box lose your brain.
The media hypes the fear
of the novel Covid strain.

The

(05-10-2020, 05:56 PM)billy Wrote:  Here,s an example of an image. Your first line is an image ( simile)


Tower's like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky.

The second verse is just the telling of a story void of imagery, (simile or metaphor) as does the last verse.

If you had an image in each verse your poem would improve.
An image is an image, it can be as flowery or as unfollowers as you the writer make it. Beware of cliche, (of crowds that shuffled by) turn it into an image ( of sheep that shuffled by) one word can change a tell (story) to an image. If someone advise you to use more imagery, no need to call them out just google imagery in Google. We also have a some threads in the forum that can explain it, or simply ask in the discussion forum.

Greywolf Wrote:Towers like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky.
A memory of packed cities
of crowds that shuffled by.

The promise of cold silence
of store fronts now laid bare.
2020 the year of the virus
of emptied streets everywhere.

Tv screens flicker blue
to the box lose your brain.
The media hypes the fear
of the novel Covid strain.

Hi, 

Thank you for taking the time to write this. Like I said I’m new and I didn’t think to put the question in the discussion forum. Your time spent is really appreciated. Thank you for the links. Oh hey Admin. I’m just trying to learn. I was asking questions on how to improve the work. I thought that the questions were relevant to the critique...I meant no ill intent

Towers like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky.
A memory of packed cities
of crowds that shuffled by.

I am assuming you are referring to how New York has suffered two disasters in one generation. It makes sense only after reading further, but I like it.

The promise of cold silence
of store fronts now laid bare.
2020 the year of the virus
of emptied streets everywhere.

The last two lines are plenty to set up the focus. There is no need to mention the "novel covid strain" in the last line. I think here, you could play around with what you hear instead of the bustle of city life... a single dog barking or the hiss of sewers, etc. I.e. the sounds that were masked before by life.

You could also play around with taste, such as home cooking or eating canned goods. Also, the hospital food eaten by those who are ill.

I think mentioning the media here is important for the poem. I think you are trying to say that the media dulls your senses and your intuition. It force feeds you (more on taste).

Tv screens flicker blue
to the box lose your brain.
The media hypes the fear
of the novel Covid strain.

Best of luck!

(05-06-2020, 11:55 PM)Greywolf Wrote:  Towers like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky.
A memory of packed cities
of crowds that shuffled by.

The promise of cold silence
of store fronts now laid bare.
2020 the year of the virus
of emptied streets everywhere.

Tv screens flicker blue
to the box lose your brain.
The media hypes the fear
of the novel Covid strain.

Perhaps this is what some of the other critiques here are getting at, but I'd like more feeling to it. Maybe write more from a personal perspective. How does it *feel* to have a memory of packed cities, in a now empty city? Does it evoke in you melancholy? Sadness? Fear? A sense of the surreal?

How does it feel for everything to be wrapped in a cold silence? Is it a metaphor for any other part of your life, any time you've been lonely, any time you've felt empty, drained?

Can you make a description of the effect on you of hyping the fear? Maybe describe more the sense of fear we all have, or the surreal nature of the hype, or the feeling of being immersed in non-trustwothy media, perhaps anger at the media? Perhaps a sense of danger about where it all leads?

(05-12-2020, 03:33 PM)ComposerMike Wrote:  

(05-06-2020, 11:55 PM)Greywolf Wrote:  Towers like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky.
A memory of packed cities
of crowds that shuffled by.

The promise of cold silence
of store fronts now laid bare.
2020 the year of the virus
of emptied streets everywhere.

Tv screens flicker blue
to the box lose your brain.
The media hypes the fear
of the novel Covid strain.

Perhaps this is what some of the other critiques here are getting at, but I'd like more feeling to it. Maybe write more from a personal perspective. How does it *feel* to have a memory of packed cities, in a now empty city? Does it evoke in you melancholy? Sadness? Fear? A sense of the surreal?

How does it feel for everything to be wrapped in a cold silence? Is it a metaphor for any other part of your life, any time you've been lonely, any time you've felt empty, drained?

Can you make a description of the effect on you of hyping the fear? Maybe describe more the sense of fear we all have, or the surreal nature of the hype, or the feeling of being immersed in non-trustwothy media, perhaps anger at the media? Perhaps a sense of danger about where it all leads?

Hi,

Thank you for this in-depth critique. I understand the concept of ‘show don’t tell’ in creative writing. Unfortunately it seems as though this concept is lost due to the fact that I’m new to poetry. I really like your critique and feel as though it will help me with potentially improving future work.

---

(05-10-2020, 09:17 PM)LSClanton Wrote:  Towers like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky.
A memory of packed cities
of crowds that shuffled by.

I am assuming you are referring to how New York has suffered two disasters in one generation. It makes sense only after reading further, but I like it.

The promise of cold silence
of store fronts now laid bare.
2020 the year of the virus
of emptied streets everywhere.

The last two lines are plenty to set up the focus. There is no need to mention the "novel covid strain" in the last line. I think here, you could play around with what you hear instead of the bustle of city life... a single dog barking or the hiss of sewers, etc. I.e. the sounds that were masked before by life.

You could also play around with taste, such as home cooking or eating canned goods. Also, the hospital food eaten by those who are ill. 

I think mentioning the media here is important for the poem. I think you are trying to say that the media dulls your senses and your intuition. It force feeds you (more on taste).

Tv screens flicker blue
to the box lose your brain.
The media hypes the fear
of the novel Covid strain.

Best of luck!

Hi,

Thank you for your critique. I will consider the four senses when writing and attribute this to your many helpful suggestions. I really like the idea of using taste and smell. I do appreciate your critique. I look forward to using your suggestions to improve my work. Thanks again. 

Towers like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky.
A memory of packed cities
of crowds that shuffled by.
I liked your opening stanza, particularly the image of tall city buildings being compared to broken human figures. I thought that was very creative. I didn’t think the remainder of the stanza was quite as creative, though. I thought the “…packed cities…” and “..crowds that shuffled by…’ was a little too easy, like with a little more time, something similar to your opening line could’ve been created.
The promise of cold silence
of store fronts now laid bare.
2020 the year of the virus
of emptied streets everywhere.
Again, in your second stanza, I think you start out strong with the “Promise of cold silence” but miss the opportunity to follow through with “empty streets everywhere.” Also I think there should be a comma after 2020.
Tv screens flicker blue
to the box lose your brain.
The media hypes the fear
of the novel Covid strain.
In your third stanza I found myself scratching my head at “to the box lose your brain” I wasn’t sure if it was a grammar issue, or if you missed a word somewhere, but I didn’t understand the line.

In summary I would say your poem had the potential to be stronger than I thought it was. I think you could spend a little more time trying for some more unique phrasing. You definitely have the ability as in the lines I mentioned. I think you just need to carry it through to the rest of the poem.

(05-06-2020, 11:55 PM)Greywolf Wrote:  Towers like broken fingers
reach into a slate grey sky. (Personally, I would add a comma here instead of a period. It flows better that way. This feels choppy)
A memory of packed cities
of crowds that shuffled by.

The promise of cold silence (In my personal opinion, it would sound better if you said "A promise of silence,") 
of store fronts now laid bare. (Perhaps the word 'and' would work better than "of")
2020 the year of the virus
of emptied streets everywhere. (I think it would sound better, once again, if the word 'and' was used instead of "of")

Tv screens flicker blue
to the box lose your brain. (Personally, I would rewrite that line, that's just me though. The flow sounds a bit off)
The media hypes the fear
of the novel Covid strain. (I like this bit, actually.)

Overall, it's a nice poem. I just think it needs a few touch ups.