Consciousness

[helenalovern@gmail.com]

I am weak.
I am human. I bare the gift and the burden of consciousness… 
...Of utility, logic, lucidity.

I am someone just like you
But you're nothing like anyone
We’re all new. 
Every thing.
New.

Some of it is bitter, some succulent
But it's all fresh, and ripe
Some of it kills you, torments you
Because you're human
And you're weak. 
And it is what it is, and perhaps someday it will also be killed.
Some of it makes you stronger, makes you happy
As is the cycle of everything in existence

But what makes you weak? 
It’s not death. 
Death is a door. 
It’s not pain. 
Most of those with pain 
fight it which gives them strength
Pain has many translations
Many forms and colors

Without consciousness, would we still feel pain?
Without coherence, can we still be troubled?

I can say that if I were born away
From anything humane these thoughts wouldn’t haunt me
But I, we, fight it every day
alienated 
despite being equivalent to a colony of ants

Typical wounds growing in irregular people
who are at war with their minds
who want to find themselves
and the world, and the divine
Who want to find the beauty in every horror, 
in every page of every sad story
and make peace with the fact that they must endure
whatever is to come
between now and death which for all of us is impending
and make the most of it, make it right
make change 
to better the human race 
which you fear is a failure
to life itself.

To encounter and confront these conscious coherent bearings displays strength
so what makes you weak would reside in this strength
in the moments between
where you fail to emit
the divine energy born within everything;
love.

There is an off button, and it goes off sometimes
and we remember the sufferings of the world
and we forget that suffering is part of what brings strength
the off button is our faith, our hope, our acceptance.
the off button is what makes us weak.

How can I be strong?
How can i take away someone's suffering?
How can I keep faith and hope,
How can I find acceptance
to get through?

We all have to find a way through
between the boundaries of the ugly and the beautiful,
old and new.

Acceptance is a place
of belonging, of embrace
of remark and disregard
to disassociate, to oppose
and accept.

It’s beyond religion. It’s beyond worldly fixings.
But once I get through,
I find that place,
I can be true.
I'll finally be strong.

So can you.

[71degrees]

I am weak.
I am human. I bare the gift and the burden of consciousness… 
...Of utility, logic, lucidity.

I am someone just like you
But you're nothing like anyone
We’re all new. 
Every thing.
New.

Some of it is bitter, some succulent
But it's all fresh, and ripe
Some of it kills you, torments you
Because you're human
And you're weak. 
And it is what it is, and perhaps someday it will also be killed.
Some of it makes you stronger, makes you happy
As is the cycle of everything in existence

But what makes you weak? 
It’s not death. 
Death is a door. 
It’s not pain. 
Most of those with pain 
fight it which gives them strength
Pain has many translations
Many forms and colors

Without consciousness, would we still feel pain?
Without coherence, can we still be troubled?

I can say that if I were born away
From anything humane these thoughts wouldn’t haunt me
But I, we, fight it every day
alienated 
despite being equivalent to a colony of ants

Typical wounds growing in irregular people
who are at war with their minds
who want to find themselves
and the world, and the divine
Who want to find the beauty in every horror, 
in every page of every sad story
and make peace with the fact that they must endure
whatever is to come
between now and death which for all of us is impending
and make the most of it, make it right
make change 
to better the human race 
which you fear is a failure
to life itself.

To encounter and confront these conscious coherent bearings displays strength
so what makes you weak would reside in this strength
in the moments between
where you fail to emit
the divine energy born within everything;
love.

There is an off button, and it goes off sometimes
and we remember the sufferings of the world
and we forget that suffering is part of what brings strength
the off button is our faith, our hope, our acceptance.
the off button is what makes us weak.

How can I be strong?
How can i take away someone's suffering?
How can I keep faith and hope,
How can I find acceptance
to get through?

We all have to find a way through
between the boundaries of the ugly and the beautiful,
old and new.

Acceptance is a place
of belonging, of embrace
of remark and disregard
to disassociate, to oppose
and accept.

It’s beyond religion. It’s beyond worldly fixings.
But once I get through,
I find that place,
I can be true.
I'll finally be strong.

So can you.

I do like what you're saying, but I can't find one concrete image to hang my hat on.  I don't mind first person POV either, but I don't have a clue who "you" is...and I think that might help me if I could "see" that person clearer.  Occasionally, I see images (death as a door /  an off button) but the majority of the time you are yelling abstractions at me and I can't "see" what you are talking about.  Quit telling me.  Show me.

[TonyMahoney]

I don't think that the idea is bad but I'm not impressed by the execution. This poem reads very much like a self help pamphlet on overcoming depression. Poetry is a great tool for overcoming difficulties. This seems to have been written with that idea in mind and hopefully it worked. Writing can be very cathartic. I agree with 71 degrees here. Imagery helps to draw the reader in. To inform by telling isn't nearly as interesting as showing someone a picture and letting them come to their own conclusions.

I am weak.
I am human. I bare the gift and the burden of consciousness… 
...Of utility, logic, lucidity.

I am someone just like you
But you're nothing like anyone
We’re all new. 
Every thing.
New.

Some of it is bitter, some succulent
But it's all fresh, and ripe
Some of it kills you, torments you
Because you're human
And you're weak. 
And it is what it is, and perhaps someday it will also be killed.
Some of it makes you stronger, makes you happy
As is the cycle of everything in existence

But what makes you weak? 
It’s not death. 
Death is a door. 
It’s not pain. 
Most of those with pain 
fight it which gives them strength
Pain has many translations
Many forms and colors

Without consciousness, would we still feel pain?
Without coherence, can we still be troubled?

I can say that if I were born away
From anything humane these thoughts wouldn’t haunt me
But I, we, fight it every day
alienated 
despite being equivalent to a colony of ants

Typical wounds growing in irregular people
who are at war with their minds
who want to find themselves
and the world, and the divine
Who want to find the beauty in every horror, 
in every page of every sad story
and make peace with the fact that they must endure
whatever is to come
between now and death which for all of us is impending
and make the most of it, make it right
make change 
to better the human race 
which you fear is a failure
to life itself.

To encounter and confront these conscious coherent bearings displays strength
so what makes you weak would reside in this strength
in the moments between
where you fail to emit
the divine energy born within everything;
love.

There is an off button, and it goes off sometimes
and we remember the sufferings of the world
and we forget that suffering is part of what brings strength
the off button is our faith, our hope, our acceptance.
the off button is what makes us weak.

How can I be strong?
How can i take away someone's suffering?
How can I keep faith and hope,
How can I find acceptance
to get through?

We all have to find a way through
between the boundaries of the ugly and the beautiful,
old and new.

Acceptance is a place
of belonging, of embrace
of remark and disregard
to disassociate, to oppose
and accept.

It’s beyond religion. It’s beyond worldly fixings.
But once I get through,
I find that place,
I can be true.
I'll finally be strong.

So can you.

[Erthona]

This is basically a series of ideas linked together around the the cliche of "finding oneself, or exploring the human condition". There is nothing here that has not been hashed and rehashed a thousand times before, and the presentation brings no freshness to the discussion, plus there is little that one could call poetry here as it is lacking in poetic tropes, or any rhythmic quality to give it energy to move it along. It drained energy from this reader, just to force my way to the end. Sorry, but overall, this is very sophomoric and has little to recommend itself to a reader. Possibly the writer would be better advised to try something with more structure, as there is no sense of skill or awareness of how to write unstructured, or free verse poetry. This is not just advice for this writer, but for any writer who wishes to attempt free verse, or free form poetry, if you will. One must first have a modicum of grounding in formal poetry to understand what is happening in less structured poetry, just as one must have a solid base in the study of music before one can improvise. Please to not take this as the critic attempting to be "mean" to the "writer". Most everyone it seems must learn this lesson, unless brought up with an education in formal poetry. It is very easy to read free verse and think "I can do that" when the person is actually only cognizant of about 10% of what is going on in the poem.

I do not recommend giving up, I do recommend learning about formal poetry, poetic tropes, especially metaphor, and the various devices used to impart energy to a poem. There is plenty of information on the site and many people who will help you along the way if you are willing to put in the time.

Best,

dale

[aschueler]

I wouldn't get discouraged, this is a site based on improvement. If no one finds something to say, either it's not worth saving or it's perfect. Nothing is perfect.

I found on this very website the following to be quite educational:

http://www.pigpenpoetry.com/thread-6765.html

Understanding a little of the history of free form poetry helps especially where it broke free from iambic pentameter, and why meter is where it begins.

I just cringe when I write in iambic, makes me feel like a Hallmark card, but then I'm still learning.

[Matthew McKeown]

Hi Helena,

I agree with those that have posted replies previously. I do have one recommendation for you; you may want to break this poem up into several parts. It seems like the poem starts out ok, and then it just begins to ramble on. If you were to rethink it and break it into two or three parts covering the topic in easier to digest pieces. Also you need to (as others have already pointed out) gives imagery. Just do not tell us about your pain show it to us through words. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then you must paint that picture carefully if you want anyone to read it.

Thanks, Matt