Music Saves Lives
#1
I requested poetry topics on Reddit one day and someone suggested "music saves lives, and this is what I wrote for them.

P.S. I Primarily write Spoken-Word, so this is kinda meant to be read aloud.
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I have this friend named Jeremy,
He loves music,
he eats and breathes and sees in music,
he has these big old headphones
held together with duct tape and hope,
the bass is broken in them and every once in a while the static gets too big and too bold and it breaks through and fills your ears with its intrusive brain breaking heart shaking random rhythms,
anyway Jeremy takes the train a lot
we live in Chicago so we use trains to get anywhere,
like the veins in you body the trains carry you from where you were to where you are going and they keep the city alive,
and Jeremy likes to listen to music during his commutes,
because he is the kind of guy who is really afraid of confrontation, just like me, and he hates talking to strangers, because he has trouble empathizing with people, and when someone tells him about a problem they had, he cant really feel sorry, and that can often make people mad at him and he hates having people get mad at him because again, he has problems with empathy,
and hes standing on the platform, and hes been feeling bad lately,
he's been having issues with his dad,
Jeremy's always finding issues with his dad,
his dad hits the bottle too much
his dad hits the clubs too much
his dad hits his mom too much
His dad hits him too much
and the evening before Jeremy stood on the platform,
Jeremy lay in his bed,
he had finished his homework late because before he started i had called him and we had gone to the movies,
and as he lay in his bed he heard the familiar sound of a dull roar reaching his ears from downstairs and a thump and a crash
and he lay still, hating,
and he lay his caution aside as he sprinted for the stairs,
he stumbled on the landing but no human force could stop him,
he ran up behind his life-giving, love-taking father
and he pulled at his clothes
and tried his best to stop him from hurting his mom who he could still remember as loving him once,
his father looked up disoriented and reached for the only weapon in reach, the very bottle that started this mess,
he flung the wasted casket at his son and it shattered on his face,
leaving cuts on his cheeks, and a gash in his neck, and a slice in his ear,
Jeremy ran into the street with no shoes on and he bolted to his car,
it had rained earlier so a grinding could be heard as a result of his feet hitting the asphalt,
his father was too lazy to pursue him,
Jeremy sped to the E.R. because he wasn't stupid,
they patched him up
and by the time they were done a glimmer of sun could be seen on the horizon and he walked to the train station and put on his headphones,
he stared at the tracks,
he knew what he had come to the station to do but he had never been the bravest person,
and he just had a hard time picturing himself jumping in front of a train,
he clenched his fist and he could feel the rancid ball in his throat where the hate built up and the tears got caught,
and then a song came on his iPod
it was one of those songs written by like Regina Spektor, or Kate Nash, or some other pretentious artist
and it was one of those songs that you hear every now and then and you can remember the first time you heard it,
and Jeremy remembered that this was the song that made him love music,
then he thought that he loved music,
and that shocked him,
because recently all he had been feeling was hate,
and he sighed
and he smiled
and he got on the train
and he came to my house
and we got high
and we played Mario cart
and he is still alive
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#2
I've tried my best to read this in a more spoken word fashion. Obviously it's difficult not hearing it, but I'll write what I think.

I have this friend named Jeremy,
He loves music, You describe his love for music pretty much all the time, I'd cut this too obvious line
he eats and breathes and sees in music,
he has these big old headphones
held together with duct tape and hope, I like this
the bass is broken in them and every once in a while the static gets too big and too bold and it breaks through and fills your ears with its intrusive brain breaking heart shaking random rhythms, I don't see a real reason for the extremely long line, you could split it up for better effect
anyway Jeremy takes the train a lot anyway...quite a weak way to start another line, it makes you sound almost like a young teen gossiping to her friend
we live in Chicago so we use trains to get anywhere, Too much explaining, not enough describing
like the veins in you body the trains carry you from where you were to where you are going and they keep the city alive, You're explaining your simile - you don't need to, the reader understands the idea they're like veins
and Jeremy likes to listen to music during his commutes,
because he is the kind of guy who is really afraid of confrontation, just like me, and he hates talking to strangers, because he has trouble empathizing with people, and when someone tells him about a problem they had, he cant really feel sorry, and that can often make people mad at him and he hates having people get mad at him because again, he has problems with empathy, The whole part above this you could describe in a much more emotional way by giving an example of his actions on the train. If he has problems with strangers, describe how he moves to another seat if someone comes to sit next to him, he cautiously gazes round the train at everyone, etc. You're sapping any imagination the reader has - they want to think for themselves, you know
and hes standing on the platform, and hes been feeling bad lately,
he's been having issues with his dad,
Jeremy's always finding issues with his dad,
his dad hits the bottle too much
his dad hits the clubs too much
his dad hits his mom too much
His dad hits him too much These four lines you could work with, I quite like them
and the evening before Jeremy stood on the platform,
Jeremy lay in his bed, It's a bit clumsy to read with the previous line
he had finished his homework late because before he started i had called him and we had gone to the movies, Do you need to include he'd gone to the movies with you? It doesn't add anything
and as he lay in his bed he heard the familiar sound of a dull roar reaching his ears from downstairs and a thump and a crash
and he lay still, hating,
and he lay his caution aside as he sprinted for the stairs,
he stumbled on the landing but no human force could stop him,
he ran up behind his life-giving, love-taking father
and he pulled at his clothes
and tried his best to stop him from hurting his mom who he could still remember as loving him once, Not bad, all the above - it has a good flow, you're not over describing or explaining things, it's good
his father looked up disoriented and reached for the only weapon in reach, the very bottle that started this mess,
he flung the wasted casket at his son and it shattered on his face,
leaving cuts on his cheeks, and a gash in his neck, and a slice in his ear,
Jeremy ran into the street with no shoes on and he bolted to his car,
it had rained earlier so a grinding could be heard as a result of his feet hitting the asphalt, More explaining again...
his father was too lazy to pursue him,
Jeremy sped to the E.R. because he wasn't stupid, No need to explain, the 'because' just could be left
they patched him up What else would they do in E.R.?
and by the time they were done a glimmer of sun could be seen on the horizon and he walked to the train station and put on his headphones, Nice
he stared at the tracks,
he knew what he had come to the station to do but he had never been the bravest person,
and he just had a hard time picturing himself jumping in front of a train,
he clenched his fist and he could feel the rancid ball in his throat where the hate built up and the tears got caught, This is alright
and then a song came on his iPod
it was one of those songs written by like Regina Spektor, or Kate Nash, or some other pretentious artist
and it was one of those songs that you hear every now and then and you can remember the first time you heard it,
and Jeremy remembered that this was the song that made him love music,
then he thought that he loved music,
and that shocked him,
because recently all he had been feeling was hate, I like all of the above, but it really is too described again - what kind of actions happened instead? What did he feel (other than hate)? What was the music like?
and he sighed
and he smiled
and he got on the train
and he came to my house
and we got high
and we played Mario cart
and he is still alive I really don't understand this ending, is it meant to be humorous? I apologise if it isn't, but it doesn't do much for me

This is far from a bad poem, it's not a bad one at all. I think the main problem is that you explain so much that isn't needed - it's like a teenage diary. It's less spoken poem and more spoken gossip. Just do some serious cutting, don't be afraid to be harsh with it, and it'll be really nice Smile
- Amy

(You wouldn't be surprised to know my parents did not christen me UnicornRainbowCake.)


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#3
this was very interesting. i appreciated this because it seemed so real, like the story really just happened exactly how you just wrote it up. the vocabulary was very simple but i think for this type of poem, that works better. i feel you could have condensed the story a little, so that you could say the same message with less line. but overall i was entertained by this.
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#4
Are you aware that you have to give feedback to others, if you want to post in the crit sections?
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#5
please leave feedback elsewhere. /mod
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