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[micpschm]

My very first attempt at poetry.

What is It?
Is it inside me, inside you, outside somewhere?
Do I need It?
Want it?
Yes, but how?
How in this insane world can you achieve It,
If you don’t even know what It looks like?

I’ve thought I had It.
I’ve felt It before,
The incredible rush of a great goal,
That first kiss,
"Man did I kill that math exam,"
But is any of that It?
What am I working toward?

Why am I working?
I stress, and stress, and stress some more.
For what?
I suppose a better question is who.
I know It’s my parents and I think It’s myself.
I don’t know who believes I’m capable of more,
But what if I’m not?

After all, I can’t find It. Wouldn’t know It if It stared me straight in the eyes.
And without It, does anyone have anything?
Ring. . . ring. . . ring.
My alarm sounds, 7 a.m., its time to study, time for class, time to learn,
Time to file in line and prove that you are worthy of everything life has to offer.
Their life. Their ideals. Their perfection.
And maybe one day It will fall in my lap.

And then again, maybe not.

[George]

You've got some really cool concepts, and it certainly evokes the feeling of confusion and uncertainty.

The questions, well, I think are a little of excessive. I would of liked to have a little more imagery, maybe create an image of what your confusion or uncertainty looks like to you.

-----------------------

I’ve thought I had It.
I’ve felt It before,
The incredible rush of a great goal,
That first kiss,
"Man did I kill that math exam,"
But is any of that It?
What am I working toward?

This line works at pinning your emotion to some physicality, but you briefly skim over it. Maybe something towards the lines of this?

The incredible rush of a great goal:
A first kiss - her soft lips embracing mine,
cherry lipstick tattoo'd on my cheek
as forever as It is temporary . . .
a cold sore - my only reminder,
But is any of this it?
What am I working toward?

You should probably change some of this, it's just a quickly drawn out example.
-----------------------

Also, be careful with your lines. Some of your lines are exceedingly long, yet others fall short.

[micpschm]

You've got some really cool concepts, and it certainly evokes the feeling of confusion and uncertainty.

The questions, well, I think are a little of excessive. I would of liked to have a little more imagery, maybe create an image of what your confusion or uncertainty looks like to you.

-----------------------

I’ve thought I had It.
I’ve felt It before,
The incredible rush of a great goal,
That first kiss,
"Man did I kill that math exam,"
But is any of that It?
What am I working toward?

This line works at pinning your emotion to some physicality, but you briefly skim over it. Maybe something towards the lines of this?

The incredible rush of a great goal:
A first kiss - her soft lips embracing mine,
cherry lipstick tattoo'd on my cheek
as forever as It is temporary . . .
a cold sore - my only reminder,
But is any of this it?
What am I working toward?

You should probably change some of this, it's just a quickly drawn out example.
-----------------------

Also, be careful with your lines. Some of your lines are exceedingly long, yet others fall short.

Thank you for the response! I agree about the questions as well, reading it back they seem like too much. Something I hadn't thought of were your comments on imagery, and I'll be sure to include more imagery in future poems/revisions. Thanks again for posting, appreciate the feedback.

[Erthona]

I would say ditto to what George said, and add that this seems to have a frenetic pace like a doctor Seuss book on speed.

Is it here,
is it there,
is it where?
Under there?
Over there, underwear,
no, that's not it.
Can I buy it,
do they sell it,
if it's real
can I tell it?

I know, it's the meaning of life, what's my purpose, is this all there is, is there an ultimate reality, gonna find myself, or find myself somebody, electric Cool-aid acid test, question. Yeah, I've been there.


Best,

Dale

[JakMak]

It's raw, and real, and if it seems frantic, it's probably because the writer feels frantic. Isn't that the point of the written art? To convey to the reader the state of the writer. The imagery isn't what was important, the writer has no time to absorb the details, too busy being pushed by the clock and expectations, and trying to sort out which expectations belong to who; why and what and who chasing him through the movement of each day... Some of the structure could use a little tweaking, great first poem, you did what a writer is suppose to do, you brought where I was, to where you are. If you feel you like this poetry/writing biz, and you wanna practice your imagery: take a day off, away from friends, girlfriends, homework, cell phones and parents. Get a notebook and pen (whatever you prefer to write with) go to the park and BREATHE. Write if you feel like writing: whatever, however. Critics always got something to say, nothings ever perfect, but keep in mind that just because someone says it, don't mean it ain't true... does't mean it is true either lol... keep searchin', whatever the answer is will wait long enough for you to breathe.

[milo]

My very first attempt at poetry.

What is It?
Is it inside me, inside you, outside somewhere?
Do I need It?
Want it?
Yes, but how?
How in this insane world can you achieve It,
If you don’t even know what It looks like?

I’ve thought I had It.
I’ve felt It before,
The incredible rush of a great goal,
That first kiss,
"Man did I kill that math exam,"
But is any of that It?
What am I working toward?

Why am I working?
I stress, and stress, and stress some more.
For what?
I suppose a better question is who.
I know It’s my parents and I think It’s myself.
I don’t know who believes I’m capable of more,
But what if I’m not?

After all, I can’t find It. Wouldn’t know It if It stared me straight in the eyes.
And without It, does anyone have anything?
Ring. . . ring. . . ring.
My alarm sounds, 7 a.m., its time to study, time for class, time to learn,
Time to file in line and prove that you are worthy of everything life has to offer.
Their life. Their ideals. Their perfection.
And maybe one day It will fall in my lap.

And then again, maybe not.

If you picked up the violin yesterday and posted your first song today would you expect it to be good? Probably not. The same thing is with poetry. This is writing, but mostly it just reads like a diary entry instead of poetry. i would like to suggest some specific areas to improve but I am having a difficult time finding any that really seem that interesting. I guess focus on structure. Read a few established (read published most likely) poems and find a few you like and try to emulate them.

Good luck!
Thanks for posting.

[Erthona]

"To convey to the reader the state of the writer."

Well no, how boring would that be.

[Son of Donne]

I feel uncertain about life just reading this. It's written well, with a lost sort of feeling that I'm sure everyone can relate to. I know I have. Coming of age myself, this is the basic backdrop for my thoughts on a daily basis. Thank you for capturing it.