I outline a house with a roof of grey tiles
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Shadow background hills, smudge a faint sky
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names
My memory-shaded brother, and me
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof
I'll engrave memorials of where we sat
I carve an X in the dirt with an axe
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder
To the crusted, broken walls
I imagine I'll ascend the crooked steps
Stake the picture on the roof with the axe
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-white
3rd revision
I outline a house with a roof of grey tiles
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Shadow background hills, smudge a faint sky
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names
Of my memory-shaded brother, and me
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof
I'll engrave memorials of where we sat
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder
To the crusted, broken walls
I imagine I'll ascend the crooked steps,
Decide to stake the picture on the roof with the axe,
Throw my body to the ground,
Leave the house paper-white
2nd revision
I outline a house beneath grey tiles
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Shadow some background hills
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names
Me and my brother, memory-shaded
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof
I'll engrave memorials of him
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-white
1st revision
I outline a house beneath some tiles
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Rustic etching in the tree reveals two names
Brothers shadow-shade background hills
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof
I'll engrave memorials of that dead relative
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder up
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-white
original
I outline a house beneath some tile
Tree is dry, grass is scarce
Etch the tree with rustic names
Shadow-shade background hills
Maybe this is suicide. I decide on the roof
I'll engrave a vile sketch of a dead relative
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree
Draw a ladder
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-white
I'll be happy to accept any ideas for the title. I deleted my notes.
Hi B -- I've had a quick look at your notes and decided to ignore them because I really don't take direction well So, here's what you get:
(04-05-2017, 04:43 AM)burrealist Wrote: I outline a house beneath some tile -- I really want this to be "tiles". And not just "some" either -- a more descriptive adjective would be better. "Some" is a filler and it's pretty obvious it's there to hold your meter.
Tree is dry, grass is scarce -- the placement of this line makes it sound as though the tree and the grass are inside the outline of the house beneath the tile(s), so that needs some attention
Etch the tree with rustic names -- are the names rustic, or the writing itself? What would rustic names be? Alfred loves Irmagard?
Shadow-shade background hills
Maybe this is suicide. I decide on the roof -- sounds like the decision is being made on the roof, rather than the sketch -- ambiguous grammar is sometimes quite handy, but not in this case. Could be fixed with "that". That would probably bugger your self-imposed meter though -- although I'm pretty decent with meter and I'm not feeling it.
I'll engrave a vile sketch of a dead relative
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe this is quite an evocative line, I like it
Hack the tree -- just hack into it, or hack it down?
Draw a ladder
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-white -- strong ending
You're letting yourself down by leaving out articles and prepositions, presumably to follow your meter. This is something of a cardinal sin, I'm afraid. Meter should never drive a poem -- you're the poet, you drive. And while poetry doesn't have to follow the same grammatical conventions as prose, there are still some rules that make it a lot easier to communicate your meaning.
As for titles, perhaps something cutting like "etch" or "hatch".
(04-05-2017, 05:48 AM)Leanne Wrote: Hi B -- I've had a quick look at your notes and decided to ignore them because I really don't take direction well So, here's what you get:
You're letting yourself down by leaving out articles and prepositions, presumably to follow your meter. This is something of a cardinal sin, I'm afraid. Meter should never drive a poem -- you're the poet, you drive. And while poetry doesn't have to follow the same grammatical conventions as prose, there are still some rules that make it a lot easier to communicate your meaning.
As for titles, perhaps something cutting like "etch" or "hatch".
Thank you, Leanne. You actually hit the mark while ignoring my directions. That being said, I'll always value original ideas over my own.
I think breaking the meter all together is a good idea. What makes the ending stronger than the beginning is how I used adjectives and whatnot. It was fun to invent something... probably more limiting than fun. The beginning should not be limited, as you pointed out.
Etch the tree with rustic names -- are the names rustic, or the writing itself? What would rustic names be? Alfred loves Irmagard? Etch the tree with names. Rustic words, (something, something)
I don't want to bring names into the picture. I think it'll raise new questions, like who the heck are they?
Maybe this is suicide. I decide on the roof -- sounds like the decision is being made on the roof, rather than the sketch -- ambiguous grammar is sometimes quite handy, but not in this case. Could be fixed with "that". That would probably bugger your self-imposed meter though -- although I'm pretty decent with meter and I'm not feeling it. ...decide THAT on the roof, -or- ...decide on THAT roof ? I didn't understand what you meant.
(04-05-2017, 05:48 AM)Leanne Wrote: [quote='burrealist' pid='226705' dateline='1491335027']
I outline a house beneath some tile -- I really want this to be "tiles". And not just "some" either -- a more descriptive adjective would be better. "Some" is a filler and it's pretty obvious it's there to hold your meter.
"Grey" is what I chose. I was gonna try a two-syllable word, but grey seemed most fitting.
Your poem brought to memory a day I was sketching a house, too. Your poem made me cry. Thank you for sitting me at my desk. I was thinking the title of your poem might be The Distracted Architect.
I outline a house beneath grey tiles ------- Is the artist under grey tiles or is the house under grey tiles?
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Shadow some background hills
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names
Me and my brother, memory-shaded -------- names are carved into the tree?
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof -------- this is too odd
I'll engrave memorials of him
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree down -------- I imagined the tree was made into a ladder
Draw a ladder
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall -------- what sort of crusts, why ugly?
Throw my body to the ground -------- frustrated?
Leave the house paper-white -----------good golly, clever
please be blessed today.
i know it's a crummy day,
but the sun will shine soon. thank you for the opportunity
to critique your poem
(04-07-2017, 04:52 AM)nibbed Wrote: Hi burrealist.
Your poem brought to memory a day I was sketching a house, too. Your poem made me cry. Thank you for sitting me at my desk. I was thinking the title of your poem might be The Distracted Architect.
I outline a house beneath grey tiles ------- Is the artist under grey tiles or is the house under grey tiles?
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Shadow some background hills
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names
Me and my brother, memory-shaded -------- names are carved into the tree?
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof -------- this is too odd
I'll engrave memorials of him
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree down -------- I imagined the tree was made into a ladder
Draw a ladder
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall -------- what sort of crusts, why ugly?
Throw my body to the ground -------- frustrated?
Leave the house paper-white -----------good golly, clever
please be blessed today.
i know it's a crummy day,
but the sun will shine soon. thank you for the opportunity
to critique your poem
Thanks for your suggestions! I changed a few of the lines and added some details. As always, I appreciate your critique.
(04-05-2017, 04:43 AM)burrealist Wrote: I really like this, and I actually feel like I understand what you're trying to say. Your poetic voice sounds a lot like mine, I think.
I outline a house with a roof of grey tiles -I like the use of the words "outline" and "scribble" etc here, like it's something you're just kind of throwing on the paper, like it's less about art and more about the memory
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Shadow background hills, smudge a faint sky
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names-I also agree with your choice to leave the names thing vague, as it keeps with your general theme of a hazy, sort of obscure picture
My memory-shaded brother, and me-"Memory-shaded brother" is just perfect. It feels wistful and longing
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof-I actually have really strong feelings about this line, because when I read the original version this just jumped out at me. The original line said, "Maybe this is suicide. I decide on the roof..." and my first thought was, oh, that's really neat how it could go either way, whether you meant that you've decided the suicide is going to take place via the roof or that, like you went on to specify, you're drawing something else on the roof. It kind of shocked me and also drew me into the poem in a different way than the drawing imagery did. Of course, it's up to you, but basically I liked the original line here best.
I'll engrave memorials of where we sat-I love this. It makes me imagine two people sitting together on the roof made of stone, like a monument to what once was.
I carve an X in the dirt with an axe-for some reason I don't particularly like the use of the "x" sound in this so close together? I also kind of think you should try to play on opposites with this line. I said that the phrase "memory-shaded brother" really hit me as evocative and longing, and I think you could tie that feeling back in here. The use of the word "axe" is very harsh, like you're treating this memory forcefully, but I also get the feeling there are things you miss. Maybe tie in the bittersweetness there with some kind of offset to the anger of the word "axe"?
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder-Like you're creating a way out of a toxic environment.
To the crusted, broken walls
I imagine I'll ascend the crooked steps-Oh. More like you're wishing you could create a way out?
Stake the picture on the roof with the axe-like a memorial, like a gravestone
Throw my body to the ground-This goes back to what I thought about the original line, "Maybe this is suicide. I decide on the roof..."
Leave the house paper-white-like you've left blank, maybe washed clean from the poison of this place. Like maybe you've left who you were there dead. Of course I could be way off-base with all of this and just using my life to find my own meanings, which is okay because I think that is what poetry is about. All in all, I love this poem, and if you left it as is it would be great. I'm just trying to give some helpful ideas.
3rd revision
I outline a house with a roof of grey tiles
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Shadow background hills, smudge a faint sky
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names
Of my memory-shaded brother, and me
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof
I'll engrave memorials of where we sat
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder
To the crusted, broken walls
I imagine I'll ascend the crooked steps,
Decide to stake the picture on the roof with the axe,
Throw my body to the ground,
Leave the house paper-white
2nd revision
I outline a house beneath grey tiles
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Shadow some background hills
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names
Me and my brother, memory-shaded
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof
I'll engrave memorials of him
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-white
1st revision
I outline a house beneath some tiles
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Rustic etching in the tree reveals two names
Brothers shadow-shade background hills
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof
I'll engrave memorials of that dead relative
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder up
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-white
original
I outline a house beneath some tile
Tree is dry, grass is scarce
Etch the tree with rustic names
Shadow-shade background hills
Maybe this is suicide. I decide on the roof
I'll engrave a vile sketch of a dead relative
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree
Draw a ladder
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-white
I'll be happy to accept any ideas for the title. I deleted my notes.
(04-05-2017, 04:43 AM)burrealist Wrote: Hello burr,
Has this one stuck? Could be because you haven't distinguished it with a title...you let the poem down and you let yourself down.
I outline a house with a roof of grey tilesthere is another, better , word for tiles....shingles. For me, that would work.
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grassI am worried about the word "with". It is, in terms of art, unclear. You could mean that you scribbled the lawn with a tree(in the view), or, and this is not beyond you...you scribbled the lawn with(using) a tree. Hand of god and all that. Your punctuation is not helping. If you know when to use semi colons you are well advised to do so. If you do not then do not. I assume you do not. Furthermore, I detect tense anomalies ahead. This is, again, a matter of debate when critique at this level is asked for. The lack of preps and the ludicrous capitalising of every line like some deranged 18th century poet or a 21st century schoolboy does not help.
Shadow background hills, smudge a faint skySo, we have outline (verb), scribble(verb), shadow (verb), smudge(verb). I think that gives you and me quite enough to do...and it is a little tedious. You could modify the form just to keep the interest going. It reads like a depressive describing the onerous process of making a cup of tea.
Rustic etching in the tree reveals namesJust because this is poetry (hmmm) is not an excuse for writing with flagrant disregard for grammar. This is what you wrote:
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names my memory-shaded brother, and me maybe this is suicide.
The one attempt at punctuation (so do not say you were not trying) is the comma in the wrong bloody place.
My memory-shaded brother, and me
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roofSometimes a described scene is so vivid in its imagery that a cerebral cameo is created and the whole thing can be referred to as "this", without further explanation. What is "this", here? I have no idea what you mean.
I'll engrave memorials of where we sat...memorials of? I'll engrave memorials where....surely.
I carve an X in the dirt with an axeMost like this line. I like this line. It seems to mean something, say what it means and better yet, I can SEE it....notwithstanding the predicted tense shift from future to present. Disturbing and unnecessary.
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder
To the crusted, broken walls
I imagine I'll ascend the crooked stepsThe piece has exploded because you are failing to link things together. This where I most need a title. It is only a hair's breadth away from making a complete story from very little....I applaud that...but you really do need to homogenise. As it is the poem is extruding like lumpy tooth paste and globs are falling down the drain hole.
Stake the picture on the roof with the axe
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-whiteOK. Cards on the table. Unless you work on changing the "condition" of this piece...and it IS your poem...I can only say it reminds me of early video games where one had to collect useful items to complete the "task". Ladder, axe, stake, paper, steps. I know that it MEANS much more than this, so do it justice.
Best,
tectak
3rd revision
I outline a house with a roof of grey tiles
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Shadow background hills, smudge a faint sky
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names
Of my memory-shaded brother, and me
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof
I'll engrave memorials of where we sat
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder
To the crusted, broken walls
I imagine I'll ascend the crooked steps,
Decide to stake the picture on the roof with the axe,
Throw my body to the ground,
Leave the house paper-white
2nd revision
I outline a house beneath grey tiles
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Shadow some background hills
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names
Me and my brother, memory-shaded
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof
I'll engrave memorials of him
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-white
1st revision
I outline a house beneath some tiles
Scribble the lawn with a dry tree, scarce grass
Rustic etching in the tree reveals two names
Brothers shadow-shade background hills
Maybe this is suicide. I decide that on the roof
I'll engrave memorials of that dead relative
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder up
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-white
original
I outline a house beneath some tile
Tree is dry, grass is scarce
Etch the tree with rustic names
Shadow-shade background hills
Maybe this is suicide. I decide on the roof
I'll engrave a vile sketch of a dead relative
In the dirt I'll carve an X with an axe
Hack the tree
Draw a ladder
To the crusts of an ugly stone wall
Throw my body to the ground
Leave the house paper-white
I'll be happy to accept any ideas for the title. I deleted my notes.
(04-24-2017, 07:47 PM)tectak Wrote: [quote='burrealist' pid='226705' dateline='1491335027']
Hello burr,
Has this one stuck? Could be because you haven't distinguished it with a title...you let the poem down and you let yourself down. OK. Cards on the table. Unless you work on changing the "condition" of this piece...and it IS your poem...I can only say it reminds me of early video games where one had to collect useful items to complete the "task". Ladder, axe, stake, paper, steps. I know that it MEANS much more than this, so do it justice. Best,
tectak
Aye! Why is poetry so friggin difficult?
Thanks for the critique. Especially for the intensive care you gave it. It hacked into my heart and I died a little because this was one of my favorites. Ew.
In any case, I have a lot to work on now (I hate poetry).
(04-24-2017, 07:47 PM)tectak Wrote: [quote='burrealist' pid='226705' dateline='1491335027']
Hello burr,
Has this one stuck? Could be because you haven't distinguished it with a title...you let the poem down and you let yourself down. OK. Cards on the table. Unless you work on changing the "condition" of this piece...and it IS your poem...I can only say it reminds me of early video games where one had to collect useful items to complete the "task". Ladder, axe, stake, paper, steps. I know that it MEANS much more than this, so do it justice. Best,
tectak
Aye! Why is poetry so friggin difficult?
Thanks for the critique. Especially for the intensive care you gave it. It hacked into my heart and I died a little because this was one of my favorites. Ew.
In any case, I have a lot to work on now (I hate poetry).
(04-05-2017, 04:43 AM)burrealist Wrote: you let the poem down and you let yourself down. Two people have said that now. Is this a nice way of telling me I suck?
If you know when to use semi colons you are well advised to do so. If you do not then do not. I assume you do not. I didn't even attempt to use one, so I'm a bit confused by what you mean. Is it because I should have?
the ludicrous capitalising of every line like some deranged 18th century poet or a 21st century schoolboy does not help. I don't have knowledge of why capitalizing would be appropriate or inappropriate. I just thought it was a random choice.
Rustic etching in the tree reveals names my memory-shaded brother, and me maybe this is suicide. [b]The one attempt at punctuation (so do not say you were not trying) is the comma in the wrong bloody place. [/b] I agree with you here- so my revision will definitely fix this problem.
I carve an X in the dirt with an axeMost like this line. I like this line. It seems to mean something, say what it means and better yet, I can SEE it....notwithstanding the predicted tense shift from future to present. Disturbing and unnecessary. So everyone seems to like this line. I know you explained yourself, but can you tell me in unnecessary detail WHY this line is the best line? I do not understand.
Hack the tree down
Draw a ladder
To the crusted, broken walls I'm also assuming these three lines are good?
The piece has exploded because you are failing to link things together. [b]It reads like a depressive describing the onerous process of making a cup of tea.[/b] As it is the poem is extruding like lumpy tooth paste and globs are falling down the drain hole. I can only say it reminds me of early video games where one had to collect useful items to complete the "task". Ladder, axe, stake, paper, steps. What do early video games, globs of toothpaste, and a depressing rant about preparing tea have in common? I'm not riddling you, I'm genuinely asking. I'm assuming the answer is "half-assed poetry", but I'm not a poet. So what do I know? ><
This is me writing poetry:
This is people telling me why I suck at it:
So this is me after being mauled by your critiques:
Hope to hear from you soon. I really do appreciate the intensive nature of these critiques. I've reached a point where I'm absolutely lost. I honestly do not know how to improve, which is kinda sad. The best I do for now is continue with my writing, but I seriously want to understand why poetry is poetry and why "not poetry" is not poetry.
I hope you are not discouraged. Please don't think you suck at poetry. Sometimes our flow is blocked. Sometimes being a thorough critic can help.
If you are not satisfied with the poem, why not take three lines and begin again? You have several things going for you. I know I will probably get in trouble, but may I play with your words? Maybe even a poem about a discouraged poet can be found in them. I am not trying to rewrite your poem, just pointing out the wonderful words you have written.
Ascend crooked steps
to broken walls:
Smudge a faint sky
(memory is shaded
beneath grey tiles)
draw a ladder
with a tree,
throw my body
to the ground,
Paper White.
I hope you find comfort and peace today and are inspired not to give up.
janine
I hope you are not discouraged. Please don't think you suck at poetry. Discouragement becomes inspiration. I keep saying I appreciate harsh, honest critiques. Feeling discouraged will not stop me, and I appreciate your concern as well.
I know I will probably get in trouble, but may I play with your words? Maybe even a poem about a discouraged poet can be found in them. I am not trying to rewrite your poem, just pointing out the wonderful words you have written. Yes, I love seeing my work in someone else's creativity. If there could be a whole thread dedicated to rewriting other poems, that would be my favorite thread.
Ascend crooked steps
to broken walls:
Smudge a faint sky
(memory is shaded
beneath grey tiles)
draw a ladder
with a tree,
throw my body
to the ground,
Paper White.
I hope you find comfort and peace today and are inspired not to give up.
janine Thank you!
So, here's what you get:
