Blue Rose Garden

[brandontoh]

Thanks for reading my poem! =)

2nd Edit:
Blue Rose Garden

Blue roses need neither water nor soil
To prosper; amidst bushes, on the walls.
Floating coy leaflets, morning dew;
Flowers, with petals of daydream hue,
Folded in divine manner
Like demure girls, wanting hugs.
Thornless treasures, flourish with hopes and dreams,
All in the blue rose garden.

Boundless, blooming roses,
Soaring above, resting below,
Glitters of sapphire, under a Sun that
Never sets. The garden, evergreen, diffuses a scent,
Youthful, passionate, brimming with life.

Until the reverie shatters.
Inspiration dries and hope thins,
Lush, astral flora, give way to cement
Gray, to stale apathy. When maturity spread
Wilting curses, when the roses all fall, buried under
Asphalt, as the garden shrinks, slowly, until it
Implodes. Death, of creativity, of the soul.
Blue roses, needing dreams and aspirations
To stay alive.


First Edit:
Blue Rose Garden

Blue roses need neither water nor soil
To prosper; amidst bushes, on the walls.
Floating coy leaflets, morning dew;
Bulbs, with petals of daydream
Hue, folded in divine manner
Like demure girls, wanting hugs. Thornless
Treasures, flourish with hopes and dreams,
All in the blue rose garden.

Boundless, blooming roses,
Soaring above, resting below,
Glitters of sapphire, under a Sun that
Never sets. The garden, evergreen, diffuses a scent,
Youthful, passionate, brimming with life.

Until the reverie shatters.
Inspiration dries and hope thins,
Lush, astral flora, give way to cement
Gray, to stale apathy. When maturity spread
Wilting curses, when the roses all fall, buried under
Asphalt, when the garden shrinks, slowly, until it
Implodes. Death, of creativity, of the soul.
Blue roses, needing dreams and aspirations
To stay alive.


Original:
Blue Rose Garden

Blue roses, needing neither water nor soil
To prosper. They grow, amidst bushes, on the walls,
In mid-air. Floating, they look prettiest. Coy leaflets, morning dew,
Accentuate the allure. Bulbs, with petals of
Daydream hue, folded in divine manner
Like demure girls, wanting hugs. Thornless
Blue roses, flourish with hopes and dreams,
All in the blue rose garden.

Boundless garden, blooming roses,
Floating around, soaring above, resting below,
Far as eyes can see, glitters of sapphire, under a Sun that
Never sets. The garden, evergreen, diffuses a scent,
Youthful, passionate, brimming with life.
Boundless garden, blooming roses,

Until the reverie shatters.
When inspiration runs dry, hope runs thin,
Lush greenery, astral flora, give way to
Cement gray, to stale apathy. When maturity spread
Wilting curses, when the roses all fall, buried under the
Asphalt, when the garden shrinks, slowly, until it
Implodes. Death, of the senses, of creativity, of the soul.
Blue roses, needing dreams and aspirations
To stay alive.

[Todd]

Hi,

I've read through this one a bit, and I like it. It feels like it could be tightened some. Blue Rose Garden as a metaphor for the well of creativity we draw from. Here are some comments and some suggested cuts for your consideration:

Thanks for reading my poem! =)

Blue Rose Garden

Blue roses, needing neither water nor soil--maybe cut the comma and go to the present tense with need
To prosper. They grow, amidst bushes, on the walls,--you may not need They grow or the inline punctuation
In mid-air. Floating, they look prettiest. Coy leaflets, morning dew,--these introductory phrases feel a bit jarring to me (nothing big, I think they work but you could equally just cut In mid-air. I think you could also cut the descriptors that aren't image "they look prettiest" Floating coy leaflets, morning dew, as it stands is lovely
Accentuate the allure. Bulbs, with petals of--again that introductory accentuate the allure could go. I would also consider pulling daydream up to end the line. It's a strong end word and hue is a strong start for the next line. It has a nice layering to it
Daydream hue, folded in divine manner--nice line
Like demure girls, wanting hugs. Thornless--again smooth phrasing, not overwritten, I love the image
Blue roses, flourish with hopes and dreams,--I would consider cutting this first instance of blue roses. I think the next line works better without the repetition
All in the blue rose garden.

Boundless garden, blooming roses, --you could possibly cut garden here as you have it on the previous line and it likely buys you little
Floating around, soaring above, resting below,--the repetition of floating around could likely be cut
Far as eyes can see, glitters of sapphire, under a Sun that--the first phrase is slightly cliche. I don't see how starting with glitters is anything but an improvement.
Never sets. The garden, evergreen, diffuses a scent,
Youthful, passionate, brimming with life.
Boundless garden, blooming roses,--again for me, and it might just be me I don't think the repetition adds much

Until the reverie shatters.
When inspiration runs dry, hope runs thin, --I like hope runs thin but the inspiration runs dry is a bit overdone and cliche. You could probably salvage it by simply cutting both "runs" and making the dry and thin plural
Lush greenery, astral flora, give way to--cutting greenery and the comma after it makes it more interesting. The to also isn't that effective of a line break. Consider pulling up cement to end the line
Cement gray, to stale apathy. When maturity spread
Wilting curses, when the roses all fall, buried under the--you could cut the at the end of this line
Asphalt, when the garden shrinks, slowly, until it
Implodes. Death, of the senses, of creativity, of the soul.
Blue roses, needing dreams and aspirations
To stay alive.

I know those are a lot of line comments to think about. I hope it's helpful.

Best,

Todd

[brandontoh]

@Todd: What is this magic?! It flows so much better now! Thanks!

[tectak]

Thanks for reading my poem! =)
This is an excellent edit. The piece was crying out for todd. I am possibly entering dangerous territory if I crit on but I must have a horticultural poke at the piece if only to prove I read it
First Edit:
[b]Blue Rose Gardenuh2

Blue roses need neither water nor soil First off, forget the gcse english convention of capitalising each line. It was never a good idea and is largely out of fashion.
To prosper; amidst bushes, on the walls. Knock off the capital on "to prosper" and it prevents the cliff fall after soil.
Floating coy leaflets, morning dew;Very nice. But why line change after "daydream" ? You lose rhythm and a "natural"rhyme, dew-hue. Horticulturally, I am a bit unsure where the misleading "bulbs" fit in. Roses with bulbs?
Bulbs, with petals of daydream
Hue, folded in divine manner
Like demure girls, wanting hugs. ThornlessThere is something experimentally gratuitous about this use of enjambment. It is neither attractive nor required. The capitals at line start emphasises the jerkiness
Treasures, flourish with hopes and dreams,
All in the blue rose garden.

Boundless, blooming roses,
Soaring above, resting below,
Glitters of sapphire, under a Sun that
Never sets. The garden, evergreen, diffuses a scent,
Youthful, passionate, brimming with life. All is opinion but you are making your own cliches in this stanza....plus some others that are well established Frankly, I am up to here with bloody roses

Until the reverie shatters.
Inspiration dries and hope thins,
Lush, astral flora, give way to cement Getting a little padded out now. You have dropped the undercarraige and are beginning final approach....don't overshoot the runway. Oh, and what is "astral" flora. Sounds like margarine of the gods. My problem but I don't get it.
Gray, to stale apathy. When maturity spread
Wilting curses, when the roses all fall, buried under
Asphalt, when the garden shrinks, slowly, until it
Implodes. Death, of creativity, of the soul. Too many whens especially in one sentence . A missed opportunity here to glide in to what is a very nice closing line.
Good linkage to the first line but a little hasty in its touchdown. The passengers may complain. Enough of this metaphor, already. You were flying
Blue roses, needing dreams and aspirations
To stay alive.


Original:
Blue Rose Garden

Blue roses, needing neither water nor soil
To prosper. They grow, amidst bushes, on the walls,
In mid-air. Floating, they look prettiest. Coy leaflets, morning dew,
Accentuate the allure. Bulbs, with petals of
Daydream hue, folded in divine manner
Like demure girls, wanting hugs. Thornless
Blue roses, flourish with hopes and dreams,
All in the blue rose garden.

Boundless garden, blooming roses,
Floating around, soaring above, resting below,
Far as eyes can see, glitters of sapphire, under a Sun that
Never sets. The garden, evergreen, diffuses a scent,
Youthful, passionate, brimming with life.
Boundless garden, blooming roses,

Until the reverie shatters.
When inspiration runs dry, hope runs thin,
Lush greenery, astral flora, give way to
Cement gray, to stale apathy. When maturity spread
Wilting curses, when the roses all fall, buried under the
Asphalt, when the garden shrinks, slowly, until it
Implodes. Death, of the senses, of creativity, of the soul.
Blue roses, needing dreams and aspirations
To stay alive.

[brandontoh]

@tectak: What is this dangerous territory you speak of? Oh, and I've edited it again. Thanks for the input. Sadly this critique isn't as funny as the others. It's weird, how it's actually possible to critique your critique.

[tectak]

@tectak: What is this dangerous territory you speak of? Oh, and I've edited it again. Thanks for the input. Sadly this critique isn't as funny as the others. It's weird, how it's actually possible to critique your critique.

Hi brand,
Yep...its been said before. Crit the Crit seems fashionable at the moment! Don't give if you can't take and don't take if you won't give is the motto!
Horticulture IS dangerous territory because I know bugger all about it....except that roses don't have bulbs, of course.
Incidentally, I know that there is a place for humour in crit but that is not my raison d'etre on this site. Comedic errors in poetry are manifest...I make'em myself.....but it is worth remembering that it is not a guillotinable offence to make errors and a serious pedant would get short shrift here. Poetry IS serious but it is mostly for pleasure....and who can argue with that?
Best,
tectak