Once Come Graduation Day

[Erthona]

Once Come Graduation Day
 
Sitting in a quaint little coffee shop
while still in college; talking
of the great things, dreaming great dreams
about wonders we would one day do.
For six long years we had fought for
our hard won wisdom and now we stood,
looking from a vista to see where
the race would shortly be won!
You said, “One day soon, I will create a new form;                       
I shall call this new form the, ‘advent novel!’.
You sat tall for a short man while commanding
“single malt,” as though it were your war cry!
"I shall write two masterpieces, I will call them,
‘A farewell to . . .Materialism,’ or, ‘Corporate Greed,’
or maybe, ‘Multinationalism!’
Yes, in that genre: something of that breed,”
then retire to a monastic lifestyle, at Esalen,
as will befit may stature, as well as
my most humble nature!"
 
There was I with my pithy little poems,                                           
welding them as a rapier at men of straw,
penning them against the wall,
but CEO’s to our later dismay
were much more straw than men after all:
much too easy for targets; were they not?
So straw became sand and Everyman                                         
hated them for their financial success,
especially when there was no largess
to their employees forth coming.
When they were already so widely hated
the world needed no poet to tell them,
of their baseness and evil,
when already their anger would not be abated.  
 
I was not so ambitious as you, 
I would be content with my little book of verse,  
merely shaking the foundations of the universe.
That was all that I envisioned.                                                         
 
We were such children, so naive back then,
living off what we thought was our due,
the ever and eternal parental dole.
Now look at us two, different divisions,
but still in the same corporate role:
we're now the enemy we once claimed to hate.                                       
Even on the fast track, don’t you find it drool,
a boor? What we once defamed we now extol!
But you’ve got to stake your claim don’t you?
Like good white bread you must rise to the top.
Our little books, yours of prose, mine of verse,
never seemed to make a stir. No one appeared
to have the thirst: the revolution had already died.
I know that I cried, inside myself that day:
when my parentals* said, "get a job, no more play";
then hurtfully, "you're cut off, go fend for yourself".
I was a child no more, once come graduation day.
 
 
Erthona
 

 *the person this poem was based on often used this word to describe his parents. You may see it as trite or dated, please let me know if you do and if you think it is disruptive to the poem. Thanks.


©1999, revised 2015

[billy]

this poem was removed by the poet and replaced because i open my mouth, sorry all but you now have to reply to it
on a serious note; after a couple of reads i thought it a bit too wordy the poem spoke well enough but at times needed to be quieter.

the last three lines of the poem felt to easy, [a quick finish]. it seems i point out a lot of negative thing but most are minor with easy fixes.
i like the idea of becoming the farmers once you take charge, {animal farm} it just feels like the poem is trying to hard to be a poem. all that said it isn't as bad as i extol. the aspiration and belief belied throughout the poem are part of the human condition. i like how the poem didn't shy away from seeing and showing that all that glisters is not gold.
to the poem:

Once Come Graduation Day
 
Sitting in a quaint little coffee shop  quaint and little are too close. choose [quaint] not sure sitting holds a lot of relevance either.
while still in college; talking
of the great things, dreaming great dreams borderline cliche
about wonders we would one day do.
For six long years we had fought for
our hard won wisdom and now we stood,
looking from a vista to see where
the race would shortly be won!
You said, “One day soon, I will create a new form; you i think it were who told me to keep quotes on their own line once, i reciprocate.
I shall call this new form the, ‘advent novel!’. missing the closing quote marks.
You sat tall for a short man while commanding
“single malt,” as though it were your war cry!
"I shall write two masterpieces, I will call them,
‘A farewell to . . .Materialism,’ or, ‘Corporate Greed,’
or maybe, ‘Multinationalism!’ for me i'd like to see each set of '..' on it's own line.
Yes, in that genre: something of that breed,”
then retire to a monastic lifestyle, at Esalen, i'm not sure why but i enjoy this line, it has direction more so than any so far.
as will befit may stature, as well as [my]
my most humble nature!"
 
There was I with my pithy little poems,                                           
welding them as a rapier at men of straw, wielding
penning them against the wall, this first three lines create an ebullient image of the righteous
but CEO’s to our later dismay
were much more straw than men after all:
much too easy for targets; were they not?
So straw became sand and Everyman  three straws are breaking the camels back why a capped Everyman?                  
hated them for their financial success,
especially when there was no largess
to their employees forth coming.
When they were already so widely hated another hated
the world needed no poet to tell them,
of their baseness and evil,
when already their anger would not be abated.  
 
I was not so ambitious as you, 
I would be content with my little book of verse,  
merely shaking the foundations of the universe.
That was all that I envisioned.                                                         
 
We were such children, so naive back then,
living off what we thought was our due,
the ever and eternal parental dole.
Now look at us two, different divisions,
but still in the same corporate role:
we're now the enemy we once claimed to hate. another hate                              
Even on the fast track, don’t you find it drool,
a boor? What we once defamed we now extol!
But you’ve got to stake your claim don’t you?
Like good white bread you must rise to the top.
Our little books, yours of prose, mine of verse,
never seemed to make [made] a stir. No one appeared
to have the thirst: the revolution had already died.
I know that I cried, inside myself that day:
when my parentals* said, "get a job, no more play";
then hurtfully, "you're cut off, go fend for yourself".
I was a child no more, once come graduation day.
 
 
Erthona
 

 *the person this poem was based on often used this word to describe his parents. You may see it as trite or dated, please let me know if you do and if you think it is disruptive to the poem. Thanks.


©1999, revised 2015

[Erthona]

Thanks Billy, there might be something under there after all. I will incorporate you suggestions.

Dale

[RiverNotch]

Once more unto the breach!

Once Come Graduation Day
 
Sitting in a quaint little coffee shop
while still in college; talking I would make the semicolon a comma
of the great things, dreaming great dreams
about wonders we would one day do. And the period here a colon maybe
For six long years we had fought for
our hard won wisdom and now we stood, I can't help but feel that hard won is the wrong descriptor here, what with the fighting and the race victory metaphor already in the works.
looking from a vista to see where
the race would shortly be won!
You said, “One day soon, I will create a new form; There was a sense of rhythm from before that I feel gets lost here.                     
I shall call this new form the, ‘advent novel!’. This is missing its closing quotation marks. And "advent novel"? Really, drunk person?
You sat tall for a short man while commanding Somehow, the description here sounds too prosaic to me. I think this would be headier if you used a more vivid little jab at the guy's posture.
“single malt,” as though it were your war cry!
"I shall write two masterpieces, I will call them, I feel the break in the two ideas here would be better represented by a period. 
‘A farewell to . . .Materialism,’ or, ‘Corporate Greed,’
or maybe, ‘Multinationalism!’ Not a comment on the poem, but those titles sound like they're made for some really terrible books. xD
Yes, in that genre: something of that breed,” This sounds like a redundant line with a redundancy in it.l
then retire to a monastic lifestyle, at Esalen,
as will befit may stature, as well as
my most humble nature!" Man, the guy here is really drunk. "As will befit my stature, as well as " doesn't sound right. Rather cut straight to the, er, joke on his humility, or use his stature directly to describe his humility.


As for the general scene, though the direct dialogue is amusing to read, I would much rather see what the guy was doing for myself, and just imagine whatever he was saying. The badness of his suggested titles, as well as the sort of break from the rhythm his speech made was more detracting to me than anything.
 
There was I with my pithy little poems, This is too sudden for me, the slowness. I would rather the brisk, lively beat of the earlier stanza be maintained here. And pithy? That sounds like the wrongest of words....
welding them as a rapier at men of straw, I think you meant "wielding".
penning them against the wall, Is this a pun? And I think the break in scene here [b]would be better shown by a period. Also, these images could be better incorporated than with a simile, I think.[/b]
but CEO’s to our later dismay "To our later dismay" sounds too weak here. 
were much more straw than men after all:
much too easy for targets; were they not? I'd do a comma instead of a semicolon, here. But somehow this whole line feels unnecessary. 
So straw became sand and Everyman   
hated them for their financial success,
especially when there was no largess This rhyme sounds forced. Also, largess I am pretty sure is too big a word for this line. [b]And this whole thing feels like telling instead of showing. No specific image or real feeling transmitted to the reader. I would rather this were a personal experience regarding how the speaker and his, er, mate discovered this.[/b]
to their employees forth coming.
When they were already so widely hated This should have a comma.
the world needed no poet to tell them, This shouldn't have a comma. 
of their baseness and evil, This just sounds bad. Also, I think this doesn't need a comma, too.
when already their anger would not be abated.  Same goes for this one. Completely unnecessary, with the idea already set up before.

This stanza feels weak. I get the ideas, but they could be so much more personal, which I think is what the speaker is trying to be, here.
 
I was not so ambitious as you, 
I would be content with my little book of verse,  
merely shaking the foundations of the universe. This rhyme sounds forced.
That was all that I envisioned.                                                         
 
These four lines do seem important to keep the ideas within [b]the frame of it all, but these could all be elaborated on from within the earlier stanzas, what with the first one being exposition, so this could have been alluded to there, and the second one being something about disillusionment, which could be the main root of this. And with the word "pithy" describing the poems earlier, this feels a tad bit contradictory, too.[/b]

We were such children, so naive back then,
living off what we thought was our due,
the ever and eternal parental dole. This whole recap is unnecessary. This stanza is now on how you changed from that period of naivety and disillusionment, [b] and it would be stronger if you focused on just that. [/b]
Now look at us two, different divisions,
but still in the same corporate role:
we're now the enemy we once claimed to hate. This could be much plainer and more vivid than this currently is. And how exactly did the characters get into those corporate roles in the first place? They got disillusioned, the speaker, I imagine, lost his ambition, and then what? They became corporate, but it would be nice to know what kind of dirty capitalist they became. Nice and more evocative.
Even on the fast track, don’t you find it drool, droll....
a boor? What we once defamed we now extol! Another forced rhyme. "A boor" also doesn't sound right. And the slowing down has gotten way out of hand here.
But you’ve got to stake your claim don’t you? This just sounds awful, now. 
Like good white bread you must rise to the top. Ridiculous metaphor. 
Our little books, yours of prose, mine of verse,
never seemed to make a stir. No one appeared This could be more idiomatic, I think. Or perhaps you could have set it up so that the speaker actually wanted to be famous, used some form of nice image for that, then used that image again here? I dunno -- the characters here only said they wanted to write things, not wanted to get the fame and all that from their writey things, so this disappointment that they made not a stir doesn't feel right. And I don't remember them having published -- the speaker wrote poems, sure, but he never seems to have had anything published.
to have the thirst: the revolution had already died. This sounds cliched.
I know that I cried, inside myself that day: The comma is unnecessary. I think the plainness of the metaphor here would work if the earlier lines were more vivid: I imagine this to be nice and pointed show of the speaker's thought.
when my parentals* said, "get a job, no more play"; 
then hurtfully, "you're cut off, go fend for yourself".
I was a child no more, once come graduation day. This conclusion never had a set up. I think the theme of becoming independent from parental control by graduation is a completely different theme from wanting to do something revolutionary by poking fun at bad guys then becoming a bad guy himself. I'm pretty frustrated with this.


Overall, though, this stanza sounds like the lines for a B-movie about a guy in pretty much the same situation. Very cliched, with what few images showing up being rather weak or inappropriate.  And overall on the whole poem, however stereotypical the subject matter is, this had a pretty good beginning with its nice, sharp rhythm and its vividly funny (I mean, cliched too, sure, but style often trumps stereotype, I think), but then it got all weak and slow and muddy with the next stanza. And I just realized something: the first stanza defines the other character with what seems to be [b]a drunken speech in a coffee shop. That doesn't sound right.[/b]

[Erthona]

RiverNotch,

Good to see you around, Thanks for the in depth critique, your time to do so is much appreciated. I think you wanted a different type of humor than what this was and on what it was predicated. Certainly the attempt at humor overall failed. Part of the wordiness and overstatement which you pointed is part of this type of humor, as noted, here it failed to work. The overall goal of the poem is to point to a type of universal foible (not any particular within the poem per se) and then make sport of it: so basic satire. Punctuation and other points you have made will prove beneficial as this is a punctuational and grammatical mess. Anyway, I have not yet given it the reads through it deserves, but I will and maybe with both your and Billy's comments this might become something that I do not instantly want to file 13.

Good to see you around,

Dale