Once you see one in a dream, you start to see them everywhere
Either you wake up and have a scream, or you try to find them and they are nowhere
You might might know them or never even heard of them
You fight to ignore them but they could still lurk in minds as mayhem
You could be a star with no light but they can still sight you from afar
In my dreams I see one too, but I don’t know what to do
My imagination seems untrue, but hopefully we can all relate one or two
You could even have a fan that would want to take your hand
Your memory can be faded like sand while the other can see you on land
Without a doubt we can see them everywhere
One doesn’t know but the other one has an infinite stare
The fact that there could be one out there is a huge scare
-Alex
Yes, very well put. Dream is one of its kind seems to have access in one more then that has.
It can lurk in cause it can nudge in more then that one can.
The rhyming is dreadful. I liked the first half of the poem, because it was funny, balanced comically on the word mayhem. But then it just went on and on, getting worse.
I like the length of the lines, but the rhyming doesn't work. Well, maybe the first two lines would work if the rest wasn't so horrible.
The best thing to do would be to write out what you want to say without rhyming.
When I was at San Jose State in the 80s, my poertry class was taught by Bob Hass. (I once referred to him that way to a poet named Aaron who was aghast and said "You call him Bob?!" 'Um... yeah, that's his name.' Robert Hass, poet laureate of the United States.
Anyway, my first piece came out of some reservoir of poetry I had filled by hanging out in the library in high school instead of on a sports field, and consequently, my 'voice' was a composite of what I had read, and not mine at all. It was ... bad. Well crafted I thought, but not authentic. I thought poetry had to rhyme, be metered, be structured, etc., because I had gorged on 19th century English writers in the library and that's all I knew. (Raised in the 60s, I also had George Carlin's 'Hair' in my head and had to avoid that trap... "Fred Astaire got no hair, nor does a bear, or a chocolate eclair...")
After readig my first piece to the class, Bob said: "...try to write in your own century."
Good advice. So if I can suggest anything to help, I would say, untether yourself from your notions of what a poem should look like, and think more about what it should sound like. I know, counterintuitive, sinc eyou worked so hard on rhymed endings, but I think you are operating with your eyes and not your ears or your tongue. Poetry is music in the mouth for people who can't sing (or they'd be songwriters instead of poets). Try something that doesn't rhyme -- it's liberating, I swear, and legitimate -- and see where you end up. Look at something in the room and describe it. Simple. I say "something" because I want to see you describe ONE thing. Your poem is heavy with generalities that never quite resolve, so I want to see you talk about one concrete thing. Please. Thank you.
