I know it's super long, but give it a chance!
I don't really ever write poems, I like to write songs, though.
You might even say this isn't really a poem.. There's like no structure to it really, hah... I'm not exactly sure what to call it in that case. But hey, it is what it is... o.0
It describes my hell. Tell me what it means to you =)
---
Today...
What even is a "today"?
Today could be what has been done... if it's time for bed.
Today could be things to do... if today is still young.
Today I long for solitude, so I can simply be what I am right now.
As I sit here, my mind is drawn like a magnet to a question I've never had a harder time answering.
What am I right now?
Mostly myself, I think.... But right now, my existence is accompanied by a dimension whose description is exasperatingly elaborate and seemingly impossible to explain.
Its nature is infectiously peculiar..
It is a nature of blissful horror..
A nature quite unnatural, as it comes to be....
Right now I am something I can't accurately depict through words, yet I continue to try. Why...?
It sits here in my mind like a heated coal, insistently burning a demand to be expressed...
I can envision it in my mind quite easily, like the nostalgia a memory carries.
It's more than a vision, though. And no words can begin to construe its embodiment with justice.
It is an "idea-feeling", if you will....
A concept with vibe;
A notion with mood;
A thought with character....
This thing that is a part of me is not the essence of me. It's a completely separate aspect of something which I, myself, have given life.
A Frankenstein of sorts, you could say....
As it lies dormant, its influence is null....
However, entertain the wrong notion and you've violently jolted the monster to life armed with an influence vastly potent.
It is as if....
It's as if my being forms itself an open wound. Perhaps out of pure fear. Perhaps it was manipulation.
This mentally self-inflicted laceration acts as an open door to my 'vulnerablized' soul.
Quicker than reason could be formed, this "outside force" seeps through to the inside, via a pathway I created myself.
As it occupies a space alongside of me, I begin to feel a debilitating grip slowly tighten the circumference of my mind.
This distress leads to increasing difficultly in my ability to think rationally or put up any resistance.
Weakened, I can't help but tease myself with the idea of "Oh, how easy it would be for me.. to just give in. So much easier...
So just let it posses you..."
With that, the deception can begin to fully ensue....
Suddenly, the torment is no longer recognized.
An eerie, yet intoxicating, sense of ease ripples through my thoughts so as to distract any desire to resist.
I sigh in complete relief as my eyes dilate. There no longer exists any visible blue iris, only black pupils in empty eyes.
So now, unbeknownst to a new, now-compromised me, the very fabric of my reality is gradually warped to a will not of my own.
My essence, the 'pure' portion of me, is half-evaporated the way a vapor or mist slowly vanishes into the air.
And the remainder dissolved into this intangible form of evil.
I am obliviously conducted through distorted perception.
Blind to my own manipulation, two entities steadily blur into one.
The 'real' me can't decide how I feel about this whole thing.
I love it. I hate it.
I love to hate it, and I hate to love it.
The result is....
what I am, right now.
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Hi there -- I can't do a line-by-line on this piece as it's just not successful as a poem. That's not to say it doesn't have poetic elements, but right now it's closer to a personal essay than anything else. To turn this into a poem, you should probably take the words that are essential to convey meaning and discard the rest -- poetry is the essence of communication, not all the fat and fluff. Only you can really decide which words are the essential ones, though. Were it my poem, I'd start by stripping out the cliches, e.g. "today is still young", "drawn like a magnet". If you've heard it before, or something very similar, it's really best to get rid of it. Then take out the 'bleeding obvious', like "black pupils".
There's nothing wrong with experimenting in form and structure. Sometimes fusing forms works, sometimes not. To my mind, this really doesn't.
It could be worse
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Threads: 12
Joined: Jun 2013
Uh-oh,
I should just keep my mouth shut and things would be better. That might sum up the story of my life.
At the risk of 1) perturbing the monitor (and I suspect but don't know, owner of this site) and 2) violating the "Poems for Serious Critique" critiquing guidelines, I feel compelled to express the (poetically untrained) opinion (if an "opinion" can be "untrained") that there is something in your "offering" that resonates in a place in me that only poetry touches. I would strongly encourage you to listen to the poetry experts that guide you in this segment of this poetry forum because (I strongly believe) your words contain ideas, feelings, ... components of human essence (if you will) that can encourage, focus, maybe even guide fellow travelers on our little journey called life.
Keep writing ... and singing. Your words are Aloe for some of our souls.
Posts: 1,279
Threads: 187
Joined: Dec 2016
(07-04-2013, 07:26 PM)fim Wrote: Uh-oh,
I should just keep my mouth shut and things would be better. That might sum up the story of my life.
At the risk of 1) perturbing the monitor (and I suspect but don't know, owner of this site) and 2) violating the "Poems for Serious Critique" critiquing guidelines, I feel compelled to express the (poetically untrained) opinion (if an "opinion" can be "untrained") that there is something in your "offering" that resonates in a place in me that only poetry touches. I would strongly encourage you to listen to the poetry experts that guide you in this segment of this poetry forum because (I strongly believe) your words contain ideas, feelings, ... components of human essence (if you will) that can encourage, focus, maybe even guide fellow travelers on our little journey called life.
Keep writing ... and singing. Your words are Aloe for some of our souls.
There is nothing wrong with saying it, but it just reinforces the fact that you probably belong in the novice section of the forum. Poetry is not a /message/ that resonates with people, that is religion and philosophy.
Poets are wordsmiths. Poets are master craftsmen of words. They say the same old boring things in new and interesting way. This poem is like a birdhouse made by your niece. Yes, it can be cute and house birds. A poet makes a beautiful, intrinsic marble aviary using less words. It also houses birds, but it is a lasting work of art.
If you had read much poetry and, better yet, if you had critiqued more poetry, you would be bored out of your mind by this.
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milo wrote: "There is nothing wrong with saying it, but it just reinforces the fact that you probably belong in the novice section of the forum. Poetry is not a /message/ that resonates with people, that is religion and philosophy."
What a bloody condescending attitude!
well, Milo, who the fuck do you think you are?
sigh!
time for more beer
poof
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(07-04-2013, 09:15 PM)serge gurkski Wrote: milo wrote: "There is nothing wrong with saying it, but it just reinforces the fact that you probably belong in the novice section of the forum. Poetry is not a /message/ that resonates with people, that is religion and philosophy."
What a bloody condescending attitude!
well, Milo, who the fuck do you think you are?
sigh!
time for more beer
poof
Commenting about a 60 line poem with "it resonates with me" isn't serious critique, it is really not even novice critique. This is a work shopping forum. Telling the truth is not condescending, it is honest. We have different forums for a reason.
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This is serious critique. Restrict your comments to critiquing the poem, not attacking fellow posters/ admin
It could be worse
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(07-05-2013, 05:54 AM)Leanne Wrote: This is serious critique. Restrict your comments to critiquing the poem, not attacking fellow posters/ admin Any more of this and I shall cut short my holiday!
tectak
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(06-29-2013, 04:18 AM)djames1021 Wrote: I know it's super long, but give it a chance!
I don't really ever write poems, I like to write songs, though.
You might even say this isn't really a poem.. There's like no structure to it really, hah... I'm not exactly sure what to call it in that case. But hey, it is what it is... o.0
It describes my hell. Tell me what it means to you =)
---
Today...
What even is a "today"?
Today could be what has been done... if it's time for bed.
Today could be things to do... if today is still young.
Today I long for solitude, so I can simply be what I am right now.
I don't know how this works? why not just simply state that you feel alone?
As I sit here, my mind is drawn like a magnet to a question I've never had a harder time answering.a magnet cant be drawn to a question. You could fis this line to read better. "I sit here, my mind is drawn like a magnet to piece of steel" also is it a question if you dont have a hard time answering it?
What am I right now?
Mostly myself, I think....you should describe yourself more than just "mostly myself" we don't get it because we cant envision who you are. It would do you some good to try and envision it in words. that could be good poetry.
But right now, my existence is accompanied by a dimension whose description is exasperatingly elaborate and seemingly impossible to explain.if it is so elaborate and you know it is, then you could explain it.
Its nature is infectiously peculiar..
It is a nature of blissful horror..
A nature quite unnatural, as it comes to be....
Right now I am something I can't accurately depict through words, yet I continue to try. Why...?now the "mostly myself" line makes more sense.
It sits here in my mind like a heated coal, insistently burning a demand to be expressed...what sits here?
I can envision it in my mind quite easily, like the nostalgia a memory carries.
It's more than a vision, though. And no words can begin to construe its embodiment with justice.
It is an "idea-feeling", if you will....
A concept with vibe;
A notion with mood;
A thought with character....
This thing that is a part of me is not the essence of me. It's a completely separate aspect of something which I, myself, have given life.
A Frankenstein of sorts, you could say....
As it lies dormant, its influence is null....
However, entertain the wrong notion and you've violently jolted the monster to life armed with an influence vastly potent.
you have achieved thoughts so vague that I cant really understand what your trying to say.
It is as if....
It's as if my being forms itself an open wound. Perhaps out of pure fear. Perhaps it was manipulation.
This mentally self-inflicted laceration acts as an open door to my 'vulnerablized' soul.
Quicker than reason could be formed, this "outside force" seeps through to the inside, via a pathway I created myself.
As it occupies a space alongside of me, I begin to feel a debilitating grip slowly tighten the circumference of my mind.
This distress leads to increasing difficultly in my ability to think rationally or put up any resistance.
Weakened, I can't help but tease myself with the idea of "Oh, how easy it would be for me.. to just give in. So much easier...
So just let it posses you..."
I have yet to get an attachment to what you mean to say.
With that, the deception can begin to fully ensue....
Suddenly, the torment is no longer recognized.
An eerie, yet intoxicating, sense of ease ripples through my thoughts so as to distract any desire to resist.
I sigh in complete relief as my eyes dilate. There no longer exists any visible blue iris, only black pupils in empty eyes.
So now, unbeknownst to a new, now-compromised me, the very fabric of my reality is gradually warped to a will not of my own.
My essence, the 'pure' portion of me, is half-evaporated the way a vapor or mist slowly vanishes into the air.
And the remainder dissolved into this intangible form of evil.
I am obliviously conducted through distorted perception.
Blind to my own manipulation, two entities steadily blur into one.
The 'real' me can't decide how I feel about this whole thing.
I love it. I hate it.
I love to hate it, and I hate to love it.
The result is....
what I am, right now.
I agree with Leanne, This reads like a personal essay. I cant tell you what it means to me because it is very vague and hard to fully relate too. If it is your personal hell, you would have the emotion to convey what exactly that hell is. But, Maybe not being able to put it in words is a form of personal hell. I got from the first few lines that you wanted solitude so that you could be what you are right now. I take that as meaning that you want to actually be alone as you are in your heart or mind. I couldn't figure out much more than that. I think if you take some time and just write on paper "my thoughts are like".. and use imagery to describe your thoughts, feelings, and what your hell is, that you will be able to write poetry better than what you have done so far. You can do it if you try, What I really take home is that you want to write something meaningful to describe what you feel but, you cant find the words to do so. I tried to critique the piece but it was very difficult. Welcome to the forum, read some poetry and with time you will be able to describe that hell just as it is full of emotion and imagery.
(07-05-2013, 05:57 PM)R.C. KITCHENS Wrote: I know it's super long, but give it a chance!
I don't really ever write poems, I like to write songs, though.
You might even say this isn't really a poem.. There's like no structure to it really, hah... I'm not exactly sure what to call it in that case. But hey, it is what it is... o.0
It describes my hell. Tell me what it means to you =)
---
Today...
What even is a "today"?
Today could be what has been done... if it's time for bed.
Today could be things to do... if today is still young.
Today I long for solitude, so I can simply be what I am right now.
I don't know how this works? why not just simply state that you feel alone?
i suppose it's my way of defining what "right now" was to me, at that time. After being awake for more than a few days, "today" or "a day" begins to have a meaning unclear. what exactly is "today" if i'm up all day and all night and all the next day? it's all one thing at that point...
so today (right now) i just want to be alone so i don't have to worry about what others see me as.
why not just state that i wanted to be alone? well i guess that wouldn't be quite as descriptive as to how i felt at the time, would it?
As I sit here, my mind is drawn like a magnet to a question I've never had a harder time answering.a magnet cant be drawn to a question. You could fis this line to read better. "I sit here, my mind is drawn like a magnet to piece of steel" also is it a question if you dont have a hard time answering it?
maybe this makes no sense, but if you isolate "..my mind is drawn, like a magnet, to a question..."
my mind is drawn like a magnet. (like a magnet would be drawn to another magnet... or to steel). i just omitted it, but perhaps i shouldn't have
i think you're looking at it like, "drawn like a magnet to a question"
kind of a perception thing? like i said, maybe i'm making no sense at all here.
What am I right now?
Mostly myself, I think....you should describe yourself more than just "mostly myself" we don't get it because we cant envision who you are. It would do you some good to try and envision it in words. that could be good poetry.
that description of myself is.. pretty much the content of what follows...
But right now, my existence is accompanied by a dimension whose description is exasperatingly elaborate and seemingly impossible to explain.if it is so elaborate and you know it is, then you could explain it.
i'm not sure what that means.. you know how you can comprehend a concept in your mind, yet communicating it to another person becomes so elaborate that it's nearly impossible?
that's what i'm talking about there.. it's kind of contradictory.
i can try describe it, but i feel as though i really can't! that's why i wrote the thing! there's a lot of paradoxes.. i think that's what is intriguing about it, and kind of a general theme for the script.
Its nature is infectiously peculiar..
It is a nature of blissful horror..
A nature quite unnatural, as it comes to be....
infectiously peculiar -- a morbid curiosity
blissful horror -- paradox
nature quite unnatural -- paradox
Right now I am something I can't accurately depict through words, yet I continue to try. Why...?now the "mostly myself" line makes more sense.
It sits here in my mind like a heated coal, insistently burning a demand to be expressed...what sits here?
what sits here? my desire to attempt to depict through words what i was at the time.
I can envision it in my mind quite easily, like the nostalgia a memory carries.
It's more than a vision, though. And no words can begin to construe its embodiment with justice.
It is an "idea-feeling", if you will....
A concept with vibe;
A notion with mood;
A thought with character....
This thing that is a part of me is not the essence of me. It's a completely separate aspect of something which I, myself, have given life.
A Frankenstein of sorts, you could say....
As it lies dormant, its influence is null....
However, entertain the wrong notion and you've violently jolted the monster to life armed with an influence vastly potent.
you have achieved thoughts so vague that I cant really understand what your trying to say.
i do have a problem with that.
i suppose, to put it less cryptically, i was just saying there's an evil or dark part of me that i put into existence myself. it's like there's two of me, one being tortured by me, and one sabotaging myself. and it's like a back and forth torment of indecision.
It is as if....
It's as if my being forms itself an open wound. Perhaps out of pure fear. Perhaps it was manipulation.
This mentally self-inflicted laceration acts as an open door to my 'vulnerablized' soul.
Quicker than reason could be formed, this "outside force" seeps through to the inside, via a pathway I created myself.
As it occupies a space alongside of me, I begin to feel a debilitating grip slowly tighten the circumference of my mind.
This distress leads to increasing difficultly in my ability to think rationally or put up any resistance.
Weakened, I can't help but tease myself with the idea of "Oh, how easy it would be for me.. to just give in. So much easier...
So just let it posses you..."
I have yet to get an attachment to what you mean to say.
i guess you gotta use a little imagination... this is the only way i can find words to depict how i feel when i'm taking myself over. it's a little metaphorical. i guess it's like my though process when i abuse myself
With that, the deception can begin to fully ensue....
Suddenly, the torment is no longer recognized.
An eerie, yet intoxicating, sense of ease ripples through my thoughts so as to distract any desire to resist.
I sigh in complete relief as my eyes dilate. There no longer exists any visible blue iris, only black pupils in empty eyes.
So now, unbeknownst to a new, now-compromised me, the very fabric of my reality is gradually warped to a will not of my own.
My essence, the 'pure' portion of me, is half-evaporated the way a vapor or mist slowly vanishes into the air.
And the remainder dissolved into this intangible form of evil.
I am obliviously conducted through distorted perception.
Blind to my own manipulation, two entities steadily blur into one.
The 'real' me can't decide how I feel about this whole thing.
I love it. I hate it.
I love to hate it, and I hate to love it.
The result is....
what I am, right now.
you know how a person will cut themselves to feel better? or a drug addict will continue to use?
lotta people just say, wow what a dumbass. the solution is obvious, stop hurting yourself.
this is my way of describing what it's like to have such a hard time making the right choice to stop hurting youself.
(07-04-2013, 07:56 PM)milo Wrote: There is nothing wrong with saying it, but it just reinforces the fact that you probably belong in the novice section of the forum.
i appreciate the brutal honesty, and that's exactly why i put the poem in this section of the forum. i don't wanna hear "wow that's deep dude". cuz that's what most people come up with.
i wanna hear the parts about it that SUCK! i wanted it to be slammed with critique!
a lot of things about it, i think, are misunderstood.
i think, if you keep an open mind, you can see that it makes no sense while making perfect sense... all in one.
(07-04-2013, 07:56 PM)milo Wrote: Poetry is not a /message/ that resonates with people, that is religion and philosophy.
Tell me, then... what is "poetry"?
So... wait.. does this creative writing belong in a religious/philosophy forum?
Not sure I can agree with you on this one, there buddy.. Poetry can ABSOLUTELY be a message that resonates with people.
And sure... religion and philosophy contain messages that can resonate with people as well.
(07-04-2013, 07:56 PM)milo Wrote: This poem is like a birdhouse made by your niece. Yes, it can be cute and house birds. A poet makes a beautiful, intrinsic marble aviary using less words. It also houses birds, but it is a lasting work of art. yes, this does have a very ominous/condescending undertone to it.
(06-29-2013, 06:49 PM)Leanne Wrote: Hi there -- I can't do a line-by-line on this piece as it's just not successful as a poem. That's not to say it doesn't have poetic elements, but right now it's closer to a personal essay than anything else. To turn this into a poem, you should probably take the words that are essential to convey meaning and discard the rest -- poetry is the essence of communication, not all the fat and fluff. Only you can really decide which words are the essential ones, though. Were it my poem, I'd start by stripping out the cliches, e.g. "today is still young", "drawn like a magnet". If you've heard it before, or something very similar, it's really best to get rid of it. Then take out the 'bleeding obvious', like "black pupils".
There's nothing wrong with experimenting in form and structure. Sometimes fusing forms works, sometimes not. To my mind, this really doesn't.
I really appreciate that, and can agree with most things you've pointed out there. This is the type of criticism I was looking for. Thanks ='0
(07-04-2013, 07:26 PM)fim Wrote: Uh-oh,
I should just keep my mouth shut and things would be better. That might sum up the story of my life.
At the risk of 1) perturbing the monitor (and I suspect but don't know, owner of this site) and 2) violating the "Poems for Serious Critique" critiquing guidelines, I feel compelled to express the (poetically untrained) opinion (if an "opinion" can be "untrained") that there is something in your "offering" that resonates in a place in me that only poetry touches. I would strongly encourage you to listen to the poetry experts that guide you in this segment of this poetry forum because (I strongly believe) your words contain ideas, feelings, ... components of human essence (if you will) that can encourage, focus, maybe even guide fellow travelers on our little journey called life.
Keep writing ... and singing. Your words are Aloe for some of our souls.
very encouraging, and i'll take your advice as far as hearing out those "poetry experts", just as soon as they make themselves known.  thank you
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