Posts: 33
Threads: 6
Joined: Aug 2017
Twin sisters rest their eyes upon a deep and darkened wood
Between them said, I fear it not, yet longer still they stood.
Within them both a voice did say, your past is both the same
To make a choice and wander now, that past will not remain.
One sister jumped and strided forth, no words or last confessions
One sister balked and strided back, content with her processions.
Fear still remained within them both, for masters they were not
Both women felt as if their choice was not their’s to be thought.
Yet, truly fate was in their hands; and feet and eyes and soul
Their active minds had drove their bodies and fate had paid their toll.
For what is life, they thought apart, but will and fear combined
One will push, the other pull, along our fettered lines.
. . .
The forest loomed above her head, no sunlight through the trees
But still she strode and laughed and sang; for still there was the breeze.
She changed her eyes to see more clear the path she had before her
Then changed the path because she wanted to; she wanted to be the forest.
At the entrance she had stayed; she gathered twigs and brambles
Fire she made, and shelter followed, her body worn and mangled.
Her mind pushed on and pulled along; the weighty, withered structure
Molding it to form anew, with hands and feet much better.
Their lives continued on as such, their powers growing stronger
As time would pass, their paths would cross and look they would in longing.
Simpler travels tempted them, together they had comfort
Too not push on is easiest, it does not precede retort.
One day they stopped -- discussed their lives -- gave in to temptation
Their stories were illusory, slowing emancipation.
But both agreed some fantasy, at this time was for better
Since drive alone cannot maintain the tolls they had collected.
Both sisters grew apart from here, their creations fully fledging
One grew the trees, one burned them down; neither thought the other wrong
Both sisters knew their ways were different, their stories understood
So bothered not they seemed to be, two masters of the wood.
I've always wanted to live in a world where it's okay to pronounce both L's in my name.
Posts: 952
Threads: 224
Joined: Aug 2016
Places where the meter is pretty consistent and catchy, others lose me, sometimes the bouncing language twists the grammar a little bit making me reread the line some times which might take away from the coherency.
(08-01-2017, 08:20 AM)fuzzyllama1 Wrote: Twin sisters rest their eyes upon a deep and darkened wood
Between them said, I fear it not, yet longer still they stood.
Within them both a voice did say, your past is both the same
To make a choice and wander now, that past will not remain.i don't understand how a past will disappear. I guess as events are added to it, changing the new past as they make different choices?
One sister jumped and strided forth, no words or last confessions
One sister balked and strided back, content with her processions.proceasions are lines of people at events? I like how you deviate from rhyme later, why not here?
Fear still remained within them both, for masters they were not
Both women felt as if their choice was not their’s to be thought.i don't get this last sentence, a thought can be allotted?
Yet, truly fate was in their hands; and feet and eyes and soul
Their active minds had drove their bodies and fate had paid their toll.
For what is life, they thought apart, but will and fear combined
One will push, the other pull, along our fettered lines. I see the image
. . .
Dig this 3 dot barrier too
The forest loomed above her head, no sunlight through the trees
But still she strode and laughed and sang; for still there was the breeze.
She changed her eyes to see more clear the path she had before her
Then changed the path because she wanted to; she wanted to be the forest.rhythm,
At the entrance she had stayed; she gathered twigs and brambles
Fire she made, and shelter followed, her body worn and mangled.
Her mind pushed on and pulled along; the weighty, withered structure
Molding it to form anew, with hands and feet much better. Better is a weak adjective, I thought stronger, but it's the next line
Their lives continued on as such, their powers growing stronger powers always growing, that would rhyme with longing kinda
As time would pass, their paths would cross and look they would in longing.
Simpler travels tempted them, together they had comfort
Too not push on is easiest, it does not precede retort.this sentence very confusing for me,
One day they stopped -- discussed their lives -- gave in to temptation
Their stories were illusory, slowing emancipation.
But both agreed some fantasy, at this time was for better
Since drive alone cannot maintain the tolls they had collected. This brings the fairy tale feel for me to real world
Both sisters grew apart from here, their creations fully fledging
One grew the trees, one burned them down; neither thought the other wrong
Both sisters knew their ways were different, their stories understood
So bothered not they seemed to be, two masters of the wood. You say they're masters, but it seems like you're just telling me now, but I'm questioning what has made them masters, or if I'm dwelling.
I like the mythical air to rhyme, there seems to be a moral in there but I havnt deciphered it. Love your fate. Maybe you can find a place to bring out this title more. Good luck!
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
Posts: 33
Threads: 6
Joined: Aug 2017
(08-02-2017, 06:51 AM)CRNDLSM Wrote: Places where the meter is pretty consistent and catchy, others lose me, sometimes the bouncing language twists the grammar a little bit making me reread the line some times which might take away from the coherency.
(08-01-2017, 08:20 AM)fuzzyllama1 Wrote: Twin sisters rest their eyes upon a deep and darkened wood
Between them said, I fear it not, yet longer still they stood.
Within them both a voice did say, your past is both the same
To make a choice and wander now, that past will not remain.i don't understand how a past will disappear. I guess as events are added to it, changing the new past as they make different choices?
One sister jumped and strided forth, no words or last confessions
One sister balked and strided back, content with her processions.proceasions are lines of people at events? I like how you deviate from rhyme later, why not here?
Fear still remained within them both, for masters they were not
Both women felt as if their choice was not their’s to be thought.i don't get this last sentence, a thought can be allotted?
Yet, truly fate was in their hands; and feet and eyes and soul
Their active minds had drove their bodies and fate had paid their toll.
For what is life, they thought apart, but will and fear combined
One will push, the other pull, along our fettered lines. I see the image
. . .
Dig this 3 dot barrier too
The forest loomed above her head, no sunlight through the trees
But still she strode and laughed and sang; for still there was the breeze.
She changed her eyes to see more clear the path she had before her
Then changed the path because she wanted to; she wanted to be the forest.rhythm,
At the entrance she had stayed; she gathered twigs and brambles
Fire she made, and shelter followed, her body worn and mangled.
Her mind pushed on and pulled along; the weighty, withered structure
Molding it to form anew, with hands and feet much better. Better is a weak adjective, I thought stronger, but it's the next line
Their lives continued on as such, their powers growing stronger powers always growing, that would rhyme with longing kinda
As time would pass, their paths would cross and look they would in longing.
Simpler travels tempted them, together they had comfort
Too not push on is easiest, it does not precede retort.this sentence very confusing for me,
One day they stopped -- discussed their lives -- gave in to temptation
Their stories were illusory, slowing emancipation.
But both agreed some fantasy, at this time was for better
Since drive alone cannot maintain the tolls they had collected. This brings the fairy tale feel for me to real world
Both sisters grew apart from here, their creations fully fledging
One grew the trees, one burned them down; neither thought the other wrong
Both sisters knew their ways were different, their stories understood
So bothered not they seemed to be, two masters of the wood. You say they're masters, but it seems like you're just telling me now, but I'm questioning what has made them masters, or if I'm dwelling.
I like the mythical air to rhyme, there seems to be a moral in there but I havnt deciphered it. Love your fate. Maybe you can find a place to bring out this title more. Good luck!
Thanks for the reply [color=#333333]CRNDLSM. This is my first poem and your feed back brings me a lot of joy. I think the "processions" word is wrong. I wanted to describe proceedings, things that came before. As if she was content with her past works. I'll look at that part more and probably revise. A lot of your restructuring advice makes sense to me, thank you for that. I think the ending is not what it needs to be. There should be some more building up to it. Like you say, I just tell you they are masters rather than the reader feeling that they are. I'll try to add another stanza or two. Perhaps that will help.
I've always wanted to live in a world where it's okay to pronounce both L's in my name.
Posts: 33
Threads: 6
Joined: Aug 2017
(08-02-2017, 06:51 AM)CRNDLSM Wrote: Places where the meter is pretty consistent and catchy, others lose me, sometimes the bouncing language twists the grammar a little bit making me reread the line some times which might take away from the coherency.
(08-01-2017, 08:20 AM)fuzzyllama1 Wrote: Twin sisters rest their eyes upon a deep and darkened wood
Between them said, I fear it not, yet longer still they stood.
Within them both a voice did say, your past is both the same
To make a choice and wander now, that past will not remain.i don't understand how a past will disappear. I guess as events are added to it, changing the new past as they make different choices?
One sister jumped and strided forth, no words or last confessions
One sister balked and strided back, content with her processions.proceasions are lines of people at events? I like how you deviate from rhyme later, why not here?
Fear still remained within them both, for masters they were not
Both women felt as if their choice was not their’s to be thought.i don't get this last sentence, a thought can be allotted?
Yet, truly fate was in their hands; and feet and eyes and soul
Their active minds had drove their bodies and fate had paid their toll.
For what is life, they thought apart, but will and fear combined
One will push, the other pull, along our fettered lines. I see the image
. . .
Dig this 3 dot barrier too
The forest loomed above her head, no sunlight through the trees
But still she strode and laughed and sang; for still there was the breeze.
She changed her eyes to see more clear the path she had before her
Then changed the path because she wanted to; she wanted to be the forest.rhythm,
At the entrance she had stayed; she gathered twigs and brambles
Fire she made, and shelter followed, her body worn and mangled.
Her mind pushed on and pulled along; the weighty, withered structure
Molding it to form anew, with hands and feet much better. Better is a weak adjective, I thought stronger, but it's the next line
Their lives continued on as such, their powers growing stronger powers always growing, that would rhyme with longing kinda
As time would pass, their paths would cross and look they would in longing.
Simpler travels tempted them, together they had comfort
Too not push on is easiest, it does not precede retort.this sentence very confusing for me,
One day they stopped -- discussed their lives -- gave in to temptation
Their stories were illusory, slowing emancipation.
But both agreed some fantasy, at this time was for better
Since drive alone cannot maintain the tolls they had collected. This brings the fairy tale feel for me to real world
Both sisters grew apart from here, their creations fully fledging
One grew the trees, one burned them down; neither thought the other wrong
Both sisters knew their ways were different, their stories understood
So bothered not they seemed to be, two masters of the wood. You say they're masters, but it seems like you're just telling me now, but I'm questioning what has made them masters, or if I'm dwelling.
I like the mythical air to rhyme, there seems to be a moral in there but I havnt deciphered it. Love your fate. Maybe you can find a place to bring out this title more. Good luck!
I revised a bit today. Added two stanzas in front of the final paragraph.
Twin sisters rest their eyes upon a deep and darkened wood
Between them said, I fear it not, yet longer still they stood.
Within them both a voice did say, your past is both the same
To make a choice and wander now, that past will not remain.
One sister jumped and strided forth, no words or last confessions
One sister balked and strided back, content with her proceedings.
Fear still remained within them both, for masters they were not
Both women felt as if the choice was not their’s to be thought.
Yet, truly fate was in their hands; and feet and eyes and soul
Their active minds had drove their bodies and fate had paid their toll.
For what is life, they thought apart, but will and fear combined
One will push, the other pull, along our fettered lines.
. . .
The forest loomed above her head, no sunlight through the trees
But still she strode and laughed and sang; for still there was the breeze.
She changed her eyes to see more clear the path she had before her
Then changed the path to be her own, her want: to be the forest.
At the entrance she had stayed; she gathered twigs and brambles
Fire she made, and shelter followed, her body worn and mangled.
Her mind pushed on and pulled along; the weighty, withered structure
Molding it to form anew, with hands and feet much fuller.
Their lives continued on as such, their power’s gain ongoing
As time would pass, their paths would cross and look they would in longing.
Simpler travels tempted them, their bond would help assist them
To not push on is easiest, the path of least resistance.
One day they stopped -- discussed their lives -- gave in to temptation
Their stories were illusory, slowing emancipation.
But both agreed some fantasy, at this time was for better
Since drive alone could not maintain the tolls they had collected.
The Forest's eyes, they searched the land, spraying and sprinkling seeds
Her touch was gentle, but weeds would grow which quickly she’d secede.
Darting forth and back to spread, stretching up to strengthen
The active sister watered trees ‘til soaked and bowed before her.
The entrance now had grand acclaim, its theatre awed the masses
Hands, feet, arms, and legs cracked the trees; Slowly, firmly grasping
Torn down twigs and broken branches, dead truth to lying arches
She stood there strong and claimed it art; her work, she claimed it passive.
Both sisters grew apart from here, their creations fully fledging
One grew the trees, one burned them down; neither thought the other wrong
Both sisters knew their ways were different, their stories understood
So bothered not they seemed to be, two masters of the wood.
I've always wanted to live in a world where it's okay to pronounce both L's in my name.
Posts: 345
Threads: 34
Joined: Feb 2017
(08-01-2017, 08:20 AM)fuzzyllama1 Wrote: Twin sisters rest their eyes upon a deep and darkened wood
Between them said, I fear it not, yet longer still they stood.
Within them both a voice did say, your past is both the same
To make a choice and wander now, that past will not remain.
One sister jumped and strided forth, no words or last confessions
One sister balked and strided back, content with her processions.
Fear still remained within them both, for masters they were not
Both women felt as if their choice was not their’s to be thought.
Yet, truly fate was in their hands; and feet and eyes and soul
Their active minds had drove their bodies and fate had paid their toll.
For what is life, they thought apart, but will and fear combined
One will push, the other pull, along our fettered lines.
. . .
The forest loomed above her head, no sunlight through the trees
But still she strode and laughed and sang; for still there was the breeze. I lost it here. I mean, I broke into tears, greatly.
She changed her eyes to see more clear the path she had before her
Then changed the path because she wanted to; she wanted to be the forest. I don't know if it's the from the distraction of tears,
but a weakening of rhyme seems to begin here.
At the entrance she had stayed; she gathered twigs and brambles
Fire she made, and shelter followed, her body worn and mangled.
Her mind pushed on and pulled along; the weighty, withered structure
Molding it to form anew, with hands and feet much better. Again, the first three lines builds a cadence, the fourth line
tuckers out.
Their lives continued on as such, their powers growing stronger
As time would pass, their paths would cross and look they would in longing. I am thrown off by the loss of rhythm.
Simpler travels tempted them, together they had comfort
Too not push on is easiest, it does not precede retort.
One day they stopped -- discussed their lives -- gave in to temptation
Their stories were illusory, slowing emancipation.
But both agreed some fantasy, at this time was for better
Since drive alone cannot maintain the tolls they had collected.
Both sisters grew apart from here, their creations fully fledging Good ending stanza.
One grew the trees, one burned them down; neither thought the other wrong
Both sisters knew their ways were different, their stories understood I like this line very much.
So bothered not they seemed to be, two masters of the wood.
hi fuzzyllama
I like your poem, it moved me, dearly.
The title was a blessing.
I had some difficulty following the meter, though.
But there was so much kindness to the poem.
It had unique gentle qualities, a goodness about it.
nibbed
there's always a better reason to love
Posts: 33
Threads: 6
Joined: Aug 2017
(08-03-2017, 04:32 AM)nibbed Wrote: (08-01-2017, 08:20 AM)fuzzyllama1 Wrote: Twin sisters rest their eyes upon a deep and darkened wood
Between them said, I fear it not, yet longer still they stood.
Within them both a voice did say, your past is both the same
To make a choice and wander now, that past will not remain.
One sister jumped and strided forth, no words or last confessions
One sister balked and strided back, content with her processions.
Fear still remained within them both, for masters they were not
Both women felt as if their choice was not their’s to be thought.
Yet, truly fate was in their hands; and feet and eyes and soul
Their active minds had drove their bodies and fate had paid their toll.
For what is life, they thought apart, but will and fear combined
One will push, the other pull, along our fettered lines.
. . .
The forest loomed above her head, no sunlight through the trees
But still she strode and laughed and sang; for still there was the breeze. I lost it here. I mean, I broke into tears, greatly.
She changed her eyes to see more clear the path she had before her
Then changed the path because she wanted to; she wanted to be the forest. I don't know if it's the from the distraction of tears,
but a weakening of rhyme seems to begin here.
At the entrance she had stayed; she gathered twigs and brambles
Fire she made, and shelter followed, her body worn and mangled.
Her mind pushed on and pulled along; the weighty, withered structure
Molding it to form anew, with hands and feet much better. Again, the first three lines builds a cadence, the fourth line
tuckers out.
Their lives continued on as such, their powers growing stronger
As time would pass, their paths would cross and look they would in longing. I am thrown off by the loss of rhythm.
Simpler travels tempted them, together they had comfort
Too not push on is easiest, it does not precede retort.
One day they stopped -- discussed their lives -- gave in to temptation
Their stories were illusory, slowing emancipation.
But both agreed some fantasy, at this time was for better
Since drive alone cannot maintain the tolls they had collected.
Both sisters grew apart from here, their creations fully fledging Good ending stanza.
One grew the trees, one burned them down; neither thought the other wrong
Both sisters knew their ways were different, their stories understood I like this line very much.
So bothered not they seemed to be, two masters of the wood.
hi fuzzyllama
I like your poem, it moved me, dearly.
The title was a blessing.
I had some difficulty following the meter, though.
But there was so much kindness to the poem.
It had unique gentle qualities, a goodness about it.
nibbed
Thank you nibbed, your praise made me genuinely smile for the first time in a while. I will definitely rework the cadence in a future edit. I will be sure to reply to you when I do. I thought it would be better to get the concepts and story fully fleshed out first, then do structural changes after. It is incredibly helpful for someone to tell me where the rhythm slips, so I appreciate that.
I've always wanted to live in a world where it's okay to pronounce both L's in my name.
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