Bushmen shadows

[Keith]

Edit 1
Where the sand ripples arid red
and time-laps clouds roar by,
white is bleached on searing blue,
the hunting grounds run dry.

Twisted sisal strung on sickle,
your package tour bow to keep,
come and sit beside our fire,
shhh, the shaman is asleep.

Hunters pose for photographs,
stolen souls can't hide their eyes,
tribes stay drunk on provided drink,
controlled by threats and lies.

The villages have all been scrubbed,
government claims their lands,
these anarchists have paid the price,
for diamonds on our hands.


Original
Where the sand ripples arid red
and the time laps sky roars by,
white is bleached on searing blue,
scorpions sink in his footsteps.

A hunters dust betrays the breeze,
over his back a lightweight bow,
twisted sisal strung on sickle,
tips dipped to drop the beast.

Once they had no boundary,
a portal to the spirit world,
sacred Elands stained in ochre,
shaman held their essence.

If only they could foresee
the future trophy kills,
gatherers spilled before capture,
Europeans with horse and powder.

Now the villages are crushed,
pressures compress their lands,
these anarchists have paid the price,
we have diamonds on our hands.

[Erthona]

Keith,

I find no real rhythm in this piece, except the last stanza, which is strongly helped along by the rhyme, but rhythmically there's just nothing to hang your hat on. It closest fits a four foot line, but even accentually it is uneven. Usually I might make a suggestion, but I can't make anything out of the first stanza, I have no idea what "and the time laps sky roars by" means.
I mean does this sentence make sense to you?

Where the sand ripples arid red and the time laps sky roars by, white is bleached on searing blue, scorpions sink in his footsteps.

I don't get how white is bleached, bleached means white.

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I suppose in stanzas 2 and 3 the description is apt for what you are describing, but then there is this sudden shift from whatever time you were suppose to be in, to the past, then to the future.

I'm assuming the last stanza means the old rules were broken, which broke the way of life, but now we have diamonds. Is that good, or bad. I have no way of knowing. Without being able to tell if this morality play ends well or poorly, it is impossible to get invested into it.
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here are the three things I see as problematic: The lack of form does nothing for the piece, in fact it takes away any energy the poem could have. There are lines that make no sense, and there is nothing in this that would cause the reader to become emotionally invested. There is actually a fourth thing, which is this seems a much bigger story than you are telling. I feel like I am reading the lyrics to the "Big Bang Theory" show, except this is lacking in rhythm, rhyme.
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I think there might be a story in this, but either you are going to have to tell a smaller part of it, or you are going to have to greatly expand the length of the poem. However, Until you can find a workable form, these others are not even a consideration.

Best,

Dale

[Keith]

Keith,

I find no real rhythm in this piece, except the last stanza, which is strongly helped along by the rhyme, but rhythmically there's just nothing to hang your hat on. It closest fits a four foot line, but even accentually it is uneven. Usually I might make a suggestion, but I can't make anything out of the first stanza, I have no idea what "and the time laps sky roars by" means.
I mean does this sentence make sense to you?

Where the sand ripples arid red and the time laps sky roars by, white is bleached on searing blue, scorpions sink in his footsteps.

I don't get how white is bleached, bleached means white.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I suppose in stanzas 2 and 3 the description is apt for what you are describing, but then there is this sudden shift from whatever time you were suppose to be in, to the past, then to the future.

I'm assuming the last stanza means the old rules were broken, which broke the way of life, but now we have diamonds. Is that good, or bad. I have no way of knowing. Without being able to tell if this morality play ends well or poorly, it is impossible to get invested into it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
here are the three things I see as problematic: The lack of form does nothing for the piece, in fact it takes away any energy the poem could have. There are lines that make no sense, and there is nothing in this that would cause the reader to become emotionally invested. There is actually a fourth thing, which is this seems a much bigger story than you are telling. I feel like I am reading the lyrics to the "Big Bang Theory" show, except this is lacking in rhythm, rhyme.
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I think there might be a story in this, but either you are going to have to tell a smaller part of it, or you are going to have to greatly expand the length of the poem. However, Until you can find a workable form, these others are not even a consideration.

Best,

Dale

Thanks for the feedback dale...much appreciated, the story is a big one and I don't seem to be able to do it justice, I have posted an edit but it's probably best to let it stew before I come back in earnest. Best Keith

PS I stand by bleached ( as in bleached by the sun) searing ( as in searing heat) Time-laps indicates things moving fast.

[Erthona]

Yes, the edit is better, the rhyme gives the poem more energy, and the 4,4,4,3 foot line stanza is much better, the very first line still needs some work, as it sets the tone, and it is out of meter. Some word choice suggestions:

Edit 1
sand ripples arid red (deleted the, "the"and "where)
where time-laps clouds roar by,(moved where to front of line, still needs another accent, time-lapse, not time-laps)
white is bleached on searing blue,
the hunting grounds run dry.

Twisted sisal strung on sickle,
your package tour bow to keep,
come and sit beside our fire,
shhh, the shaman is asleep.

Hunters pose for photographs,
stolen souls can't hide their eyes,
tribes stay drunk on provided (proffered, or furnished) drink,
controlled by threats and lies.

The villages have all been scrubbed,
government (now) claims their lands (the land),
these anarchists have paid the price, (this could use some clarity, not sure how and in what way they are "anarchists", nor who they are)
for diamonds on our hands.
__________________________________________________________

Bushmen are in Africa, Australia, and NZ. Your title is a little vague. It's hard for the reader to care about these people, when their identity is so nebulous. I think that needs to be addressed somewhere.

I realize this isn't in workshopping, but it seemed a shame to let it languish here.

Best,

Dale