07-29-2013, 10:39 PM
(07-29-2013, 06:09 PM)billy Wrote: hi vistalThanks, billy.....great sites you've referred me to!
some of the end rhymes aren't there.
and in general the poem feels very weak. the lines feel very primitive (in a bad way) i think it needs a heck of a lot of work, you need some strong images. you need to tell less and show more than what you're doing. read a few of the pds in my sig.
(07-28-2013, 11:09 AM)Vistaldust Wrote: "Pulling Roots"
I plowed and played in my home by the oaks;
how loved I was by the town and its folks.
I rooted my feet in the clay that made me,
and laid in the grass with leaves to shade me. feels like a pretty week stanza that's mainly tell and not show. some excessive verbiage
Tall I grew, like the dreams I nourished;
soon made plans which helped them to flourish., be on the look out for baggage, [to] in this line and more in others.
Watching planes painting tails in the blue-lit sky,
soon I was waving my oaks goodbye.
I traveled the world, made my name known,
though my seeds were watered with care at home.
Fame came fast, like a summer storm,
but the me inside said "goodbye" with scorn. again the verse is very weak.
Years passed by like a lonely moon;
I sat with fortune in a darkened room.
Cars and crowds made pavement sounds;
no trees for the dying in a brick-laid town.
Now I am old and the world has forgot
the splash I made when the flame was hot.
The oaks have fallen to the corporate axe.
You can never go home once you've turned your back.

