Edit 2


The first was never meant to live in this fast world, in these harsh times.
The wheels that scarred, the piercing scream, the life that flew to death
like Destiny, in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

Then hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell? We knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded into endless sleep.
She will not be at my party.

The price we pay for life, it seems, is by the lives of others met;
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out into years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

Edit 1
The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheels that scarred, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
like Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to deepest sleep.
She will not be at my party.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met,
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out into years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheel that turned, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
was Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent, creeping, stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the sucking draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, we could not tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to constant sleep.

'into' or 'in to' is up to you. Things change. I could come up with an argument for both that would cancel each other out.

She will not be at my party.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met,

This isn't bad. But it sounds like something you, yourself, wouldn't like. Maybe you're experimenting.

a time in joyfull summer days will stretch out in to years until

They don't still have two 'l's in "joyful" in Europe do they? I forgot how it is now.


the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh to fill a room a room with friends that still may be.

More experimenting?

Will no one come to my party?

(05-18-2013, 01:29 AM)rowens Wrote:  The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheel that turned, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
was Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent, creeping, stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the sucking draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, we could not tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to constant sleep.

'into' or 'in to' is up to you. Things change. I could come up with an argument for both that would cancel each other out.

She will not be at my party.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met,

This isn't bad. But it sounds like something you, yourself, wouldn't like. Maybe you're experimenting.

a time in joyfull summer days will stretch out in to years until

They don't still have two 'l's in "joyful" in Europe do they? I forgot how it is now.


the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh to fill a room a room with friends that still may be.

More experimenting?

Will no one come to my party?

Hi rowens. No. They don't have two ll's in joyful in Europe. They don't have joyful at all in Europe.
Best,
tectak
Thanks for the catch. Is that all there is?

There might be more. But I'd rather not change things that aren't mine. I only do that when a woman's involved.

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  I'm tenuous to comment on your work, but I will do my best to consider what you've presented

The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheel that turned, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
was Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be?
He will not be at my party. -- When you personify Destiny with a capital I think you are presenting a character that might appear in a morality play or something.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent, creeping, stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time -- This is very sad well done, however there is some disagreement eyes is plural so perhaps just add an s to testament
and to the sucking draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity. -- Your alliteration compiles into a sort of flow that is interrupted by your refrain but it also brings home the catalyst of this expression She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, we could not tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to constant sleep.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met,
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until-- into? why the space?
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;-- Maybe expand on the struck down stars, maybe
we sigh to fill a room a room with friends that still may be.-- Do you need a comma or period after the first a room?
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time. This line is beautiful. I hope I got what you were after.

(05-18-2013, 03:55 AM)Brownlie Wrote:  

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  I'm tenuous to comment on your work, but I will do my best to consider what you've presented

The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheel that turned, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
was Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be?
He will not be at my party. -- When you personify Destiny with a capital I think you are presenting a character that might appear in a morality play or something.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent, creeping, stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time -- This is very sad well done, however there is some disagreement eyes is plural so perhaps just add an s to testament
and to the sucking draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity. -- Your alliteration compiles into a sort of flow that is interrupted by your refrain but it also brings home the catalyst of this expression She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, we could not tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to constant sleep.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met,
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until-- into? why the space?
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;-- Maybe expand on the struck down stars, maybe
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.-- Do you need a comma or period after the first a room?
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time. This line is beautiful. I hope I got what you were after.

Sadly, brownlie, you did. The into/in to controversy runs on. I do not know the answer but sorry to hear you are tenuous(?).
Thanks for your continued interest and salient crit. Ooops! The double room was a wrong booking but you take a pair of rheumy eyes
Best,
tectak

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheel that turned, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
was Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent, creeping, stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the sucking draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, we could not tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to constant sleep.
She will not be at my party.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met,
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

Tec, it's not too bad. Seems a bit personal..do you really want crit?

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheel that turned, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
was Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent, creeping, stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the sucking draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, we could not tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to constant sleep.
She will not be at my party.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met,
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

This is overmodified like crazy, Tek. "Silent, creeping, stalking" - stalking means silent and creeping already.

Rheumy, runny eyes were tearful - again

sucking draw? do you really need sucking if you have draw?

gravest gravity - ok, there is some reason you are writing as inefficiently as possible here but I don't get it. elucidate so I don't think I've just lost my mind.

milo

(05-18-2013, 07:27 AM)trueenigma Wrote:  

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheel that turned, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
was Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent, creeping, stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the sucking draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, we could not tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to constant sleep.
She will not be at my party.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met,
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

Tec, it's not too bad. Seems a bit personal..do you really want crit?

Hell, true! It's better than I thought! It's just a poem! If it suceeded at all it is because of it's apparent veracity. Thanks.
Best,
tectak

Well, since it's just a poem..

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheel that turned, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death Pierced what? was never going to live, is that meant to imply a miscarriage?
was Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party. must you keep repeating the obvious? Nobodies coming, get over it

The second did not see the scythe; the silent, creeping, stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the sucking draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity. sucking draw? You are better than this, you wrote this in like five minutes
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, we could not tell, we knew no reason for the loss. we did not know, we knew no. Why not follow it up with: we had no idea?
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to constant sleep. constant sleep? Or permanent sleep?
She will not be at my party.

As[/b] if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met, we pay the price by? Or with?
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part. met/debt, due/few, the rhymes only disrupt the rhythm.
They will not be at my party .


this is why it's not too bad..
RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak Great final stanza, poignant. A poem by itself.
2013

(05-18-2013, 03:28 PM)milo Wrote:  

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheel that turned, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
was Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent, creeping, stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the sucking draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, we could not tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to constant sleep.
She will not be at my party.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met,
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

This is overmodified like crazy, Tek. "Silent, creeping, stalking" - stalking means silent and creeping already.

Rheumy, runny eyes were tearful - again

sucking draw? do you really need sucking if you have draw?

gravest gravity - ok, there is some reason you are writing as inefficiently as possible here but I don't get it. elucidate so I don't think I've just lost my mind.

milo

Hi milo,
you're a good egg. Yes. I gave in to the emotional urges in this one. Over-adjectival lines help me ( and in truth, most real people) to express their feelings by the immediacy of utterance. It is as though under the circumsrances one cannot wring enough meaning out of one word (poet) and so three or more spill out( real person).
Call it an excuse. You will, I know
Must have worked on some level looking at true's comment...but you are not losing your mind. At least, not through anything I have written!
Best,
tectak

(05-18-2013, 03:55 PM)trueenigma Wrote:  Well, since it's just a poem..

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheel that turned, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death Pierced what? was never going to live, is that meant to imply a miscarriage?
was Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party. must you keep repeating the obvious? Nobodies coming, get over it

The second did not see the scythe; the silent, creeping, stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the sucking draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity. sucking draw? You are better than this, you wrote this in like five minutes
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, we could not tell, we knew no reason for the loss. we did not know, we knew no. Why not follow it up with: we had no idea?
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to constant sleep. constant sleep? Or permanent sleep?
She will not be at my party.

As[/b] if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met, we pay the price by? Or with?
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part. met/debt, due/few, the rhymes only disrupt the rhythm.
They will not be at my party .


this is why it's not too bad..
RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak Great final stanza, poignant. A poem by itself.
2013

Hi true,
That's better!
S1 Died in a car crash. Tuning wheel, piercing scream. What more do you want? "Sucking draw" was written in like five minutes...four minutes. ..but you are right.It is what I call technically not very good. Needs changing. Will do. Do you think six minutes would do it?
The by/with thing is complicated by the inversion which I over-like. So the "by" is referring to "met by" not "pay with"....er....I think.
Now, this is totally true, the internal rhymes were not contrived. I will look at tgem again but there is a problem in trying to simplify simplicity. Good call just the same. Thanks and for all.
Best,
tectak

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  Edit 2

Who will come….?

The first was never meant to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheels that scarred, the piercing scream, the life that flew to death
like Destiny, in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

Then hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell? We knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded into endless sleep.
She will not be at my party.

The price we pay for life, it seems, is by the lives of others met;
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out into years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

Edit 1
The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheels that scarred, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
like Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to deepest sleep.
She will not be at my party.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met;
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

Ok, not a bad revision, but what the hell is the purpose of the colon in L2?. Did you not see that that was the reason for the miscarriage/abortion confusion? Was never meant to live.? Or was never meant to live in..? If you want to open it up to suggestion and be tricky, why not just use an enjambment? What are you so afraid of?

Congrats on getting with the times.

---

Really congrats, nice, modern poem. I can relate. It's becoming a word machine. I like the use of subtle sonics and rhymes to create flow. Very modern syntax too. Easy to read out loud.

Nice revision - some thoughts . . .

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  Edit 2

Who will come….? I would kill the elipsis but that is personal preference.
The first was never meant to live: in this new world, in these harsh times. the rhythm is a good enough excuse to use "this new" and "these harsh"
The wheels that scarred, the piercing scream, the life that flew to death
like Destiny, in bold pursuit of what was always going to be. I feel like "Destiny" is the wrong word here but I would be hard pressed to tell you what the right one was. "what was always going to be" is wordy and inefficient. what would be, what would always be, whatever.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity. "gravest gravity" is still not working for me.
She will not be at my party.

Then hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell? We knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded into endless sleep.
She will not be at my party.

"promised years" and "endless sleep"

The price we pay for life, it seems, is by the lives of others met;
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out into years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?

I think the edit is coming along nicely. The rhythm is good though there is still a bit of metric padding. I love the concept BTW and hope to read the finished product.

regards my friend.

milo

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  Edit 2

Who will come….?

The first was never meant to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheels that scarred, the piercing scream, the life that flew to death
like Destiny, in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

Then hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell? We knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded into endless sleep.
She will not be at my party.

The price we pay for life, it seems, is by the lives of others met;
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out into years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

Edit 1
The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheels that scarred, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
like Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to deepest sleep.
She will not be at my party.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met;
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

I will not comment on technique at this time, because I believe there are others here who can do that better than I. Regarding the substance of your poem I feel it can stretch beyond the party and explore the theme of time and aging. This sort of sounds like a soliloquy but I suppose you could say that about many other poems. There is some redundancy but the various instances where redundancy occurs add to the dramatic tone of the narrator. Perhaps you could find a way to keep the alliteration and do away with the redundancy. Any time a narrator is lamenting it is made more poignant if there are preceding events that lead to it. Think of Shylock's speech in Merchant of Venice. Take the thing alone and it is not as powerful as in the context. Poems don't necessarily have to be profound to be good they just have to sound profound (I am not saying your poem is superficial just musing on the nature of the art). Sorry for my digression I enjoy the analysis.

(05-21-2013, 09:13 AM)trueenigma Wrote:  

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  Edit 2

Who will come….?

The first was never meant to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheels that scarred, the piercing scream, the life that flew to death
like Destiny, in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

Then hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell? We knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded into endless sleep.
She will not be at my party.

The price we pay for life, it seems, is by the lives of others met;
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out into years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

Edit 1
The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheels that scarred, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
like Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to deepest sleep.
She will not be at my party.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met;
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

Ok, not a bad revision, but what the hell is the purpose of the colon in L2?. Did you not see that that was the reason for the miscarriage/abortion confusion? Was never meant to live.? Or was never meant to live in..? If you want to open it up to suggestion and be tricky, why not just use an enjambment? What are you so afraid of?

Congrats on getting with the times.

---

Really congrats, nice, modern poem. I can relate. It's becoming a word machine. I like the use of subtle sonics and rhymes to create flow. Very modern syntax too. Easy to read out loud.

L1. The L1 for you is the title. Sorry. Copying mistake.
Hmmm. I agree re. the colon. I wanted a long pause but cannot remember why! Sometimes, when I write, the speed of thinking is reflected in my printed word. Nonetheless, I should have removed the colon...it now looks decidedly odd.
Fear in writing is a strange suggestion! Writing is an arena where fear is relegated only to failure...once you accept failure as a learning process anything goes. Enjambment and I are old sparring partners. I very much enjoy the purity of internal rhyme with enjambment being the final arbitor of line break. The Ginsbergian mantra of write as you breathe is very much part of my upbringing in poetry. I once watched some South Asia indians playing their ridiculously esoteric game Kabaddi. They chant the word for as long as possible on one breath. After the game the leader representative was interviewed. He could, and did, speak in unbroken english with about 30 seconds between each breath. As he spoke, I noticed that he did not stop at natural points but quite unknowingly "enjambed" his speech. It had a wonderfully lyrical flow which I have only heard the Irish match.
I try when I try.
Best and thanks,
tectak

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(05-21-2013, 11:21 AM)Brownlie Wrote:  

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  Edit 2

Who will come….?

The first was never meant to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheels that scarred, the piercing scream, the life that flew to death
like Destiny, in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

Then hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell? We knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded into endless sleep.
She will not be at my party.

The price we pay for life, it seems, is by the lives of others met;
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out into years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

Edit 1
The first was never going to live: in this new world, in these harsh times.
The wheels that scarred, the scream that pierced, the life that flew to death
like Destiny in bold pursuit of what was always going to be.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity.
She will not be at my party.

The hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell, we knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded in to deepest sleep.
She will not be at my party.

As if the price we pay for life is by the lives of others met;
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out in to years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?
tectak
2013

I will not comment on technique at this time, because I believe there are others here who can do that better than I. Regarding the substance of your poem I feel it can stretch beyond the party and explore the theme of time and aging. This sort of sounds like a soliloquy but I suppose you could say that about many other poems. There is some redundancy but the various instances where redundancy occurs add to the dramatic tone of the narrator. Perhaps you could find a way to keep the alliteration and do away with the redundancy. Any time a narrator is lamenting it is made more poignant if there are preceding events that lead to it. Think of Shylock's speech in Merchant of Venice. Take the thing alone and it is not as powerful as in the context. Poems don't necessarily have to be profound to be good they just have to sound profound (I am not saying your poem is superficial just musing on the nature of the art). Sorry for my digression I enjoy the analysis.

Hi brownlie,
thanks and appreciation are due. Overall, this piece has emerged relatively unscathed but I hope much improved. Those who know me on this site and others know that I don't do profound....I'm shallow like that What is often mistaken for profundity, in my work and others, is lack of clarity. Some take this to heights and make lofty claims to deep-thinking which only a naked king would fathom.See what I mean?
Best,
tectak

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(05-21-2013, 10:34 AM)milo Wrote:  Nice revision - some thoughts . . .

(05-17-2013, 09:46 PM)tectak Wrote:  Edit 2

Who will come….? I would kill the elipsis but that is personal preference.
The first was never meant to live: in this new world, in these harsh times. the rhythm is a good enough excuse to use "this new" and "these harsh"
The wheels that scarred, the piercing scream, the life that flew to death
like Destiny, in bold pursuit of what was always going to be. I feel like "Destiny" is the wrong word here but I would be hard pressed to tell you what the right one was. "what was always going to be" is wordy and inefficient. what would be, what would always be, whatever.
He will not be at my party.

The second did not see the scythe; the silent touch, the stalking kill.
At once the rheumy, running eyes were tearful testament to time
and to the constant draw to earth, that pull of gravest gravity. "gravest gravity" is still not working for me.
She will not be at my party.

Then hope held firm for promised years until the third stepped off the stage.
We did not know, how could we tell? We knew no reason for the loss.
She turned to say she felt unwell and faded into endless sleep.
She will not be at my party.

"promised years" and "endless sleep"

The price we pay for life, it seems, is by the lives of others met;
a time in joyful summer days will stretch out into years until
the debt is due and called in on the few we hold, and then they part.
They will not be at my party .

RSVP becomes a wish. We look into our book and see
the crossed out names, the struck down stars;
we sigh and try to fill a room with friends that still may be.
Will no one come to my party?

I think the edit is coming along nicely. The rhythm is good though there is still a bit of metric padding. I love the concept BTW and hope to read the finished product.

regards my friend.

milo

Hi milo,
In one bound he was free. Sorry about the ellipses on L1. It is not line 1, it is the title. Copy-over error.
Gravest gravity is trite. It may have to go. Right now I am still taken with the metaphorical (and universal) pull to the grave and may take some shifting. We shall see.
Thanks as always.
Very Best,
tectak