Cannonball

[Yjack123]

This is my first posting.  I'm very eager to learn and improve.  Looking forward to your help.


Cannonball
 
 
Bobby had a single plan to leave it all to that old man.
An brand new stage; a different cast; just how long can one storm last?
 
I saw him and I turned away, I left him to his own decay.
He took to drink and losing fights and beaten dogs are known to bite.
 
And Bobby was a cannonball flying thru each shattered wall.
Not a thing would slow him down ‘til he buried in the ground.
A hunk of iron burning hot: betting on a single shot.
He knew he’d get one single fall.
Who could stop a cannonball?
Yes, who could stop a cannonball?
 
His treasure formed a tiny pile and getting to sleep could take a while.
Rumbling nights are dark and cold when you don’t believe a word you’re told.
 
Who can tell them all the cause?  They never wait for Santa Clause.
They wear a shirt to hide a bruise and walk to school in dirty shoes.
 
And Bobby was a cannonball busting thru each shattered wall.
Pure inertia made him fly, whistling through the midnight sky.
He never knew just how to be with his potential energy,
A sonic boom will sound his fall.
Who can stop a cannonball?
Yeah, who can stop a cannonball?

[rowens]

This poem makes perfect sense in how you say how can you stop a cannon ball. You can't. Well, you can. But this is figurative and literal. The poem has little effect, and much interest. Is that what you mean? All the energy of a cannon ball, and none of the sense in shooting it off? The theme of the poem seems to be rooted, and routed, in the line: He never knew just how to be with his potential energy. And that seems to be the whole fault, or flaw, with the poem. It has energy, and meaning, but no substance. Am I wrong? I wonder if you could explain. Just enough to let me know if I'm on the right track.

---

Rumbling nights are dark and cold when you don't believe a thing you're told. That line stands out to me as good. The most interesting line in the poem, because I can relate to it. Still I wonder if English is your first language, or your language at all.

[Richard]

Hey Yjack123,
I think you have a decent overall image here, of Bobby as a cannonball. However, you need to rethink some of your wording and other images. I'll go into more detail below:

This is my first posting.  I'm very eager to learn and improve.  Looking forward to your help.


Cannonball -While this title makes sense, I think it could be more creative.
 
 
Bobby had a single plan to leave it all to that old man. -I found the rhyming within the lines a bit distracting. One of my biggest suggestions would be to rewrite this poem with minimal rhyming.
An brand new stage; a different cast; just how long can one storm last? -I'm unclear of what storm you are talking about here. May be I'm missing something. It wouldn't be the first time.
 
I saw him and I turned away, I left him to his own decay. -This stanza made me curious about who the speaker may be. I think this is a point that could be explored more.
He took to drink and losing fights and beaten dogs are known to bite. -I'm unclear on why Bobby took to drinking. Again, This could be explored more.
 
And Bobby was a cannonball flying thru each shattered wall. -Personally, I would omit the "And" and start the poem here. Leave the reader wondering why Bobby is such a cannonball.
Not a thing would slow him down ‘til he buried in the ground. -I would remove this line as I think it doesn't add much.
A hunk of iron burning hot: betting on a single shot.
He knew he’d get one single fall. -I like this and the previous line. They effectively extend the metaphor of Bobby as a cannonball.
Who could stop a cannonball?
Yes, who could stop a cannonball? -I'm kind of on the fence with the repetition in these two lines. I don't know if they warrant it, but it does sound nice.
 
His treasure formed a tiny pile and getting to sleep could take a while. --What treasure? This could be explained more.
Rumbling nights are dark and cold when you don’t believe a word you’re told. -What words were lies? Again, this could be explored more.
 
Who can tell them all the cause?  They never wait for Santa Clause. -I think you're talking about children here, but it could be clearer.
They wear a shirt to hide a bruise and walk to school in dirty shoes. -I actually like this image. It just need it connected to Bobby more.
 
And Bobby was a cannonball busting thru each shattered wall. -Is the repetition of this line intentional?
Pure inertia made him fly, whistling through the midnight sky. -I like this line. It extends the cannonball metaphor again. I wonder if the midnight sky is an image worth exploring more?
He never knew just how to be with his potential energy, -How would one "be with his potential energy"? I think you should consider rewording this line because it's a bit unclear.
A sonic boom will sound his fall. -I don't know if "sonic boom" is justified here. His fall might be sadder if it was figuratively quieter.
Who can stop a cannonball?
Yeah, who can stop a cannonball? -I feel like repeating these two lines take away from their significance.

I think you have a good start here. You just need to do some editing. I look forward to seeing where you go from here.

Cheers,
Richard

[rowens]

I can hear an English accent, of someone who speaks English some way, somehow. But it's still so broken up. Do you not have any way of framing it I'm missing? Or is this just how it is? I like to get a little bit of information, it doesn't hurt to get a little bit of frame.

[Yjack123]

This poem makes perfect sense in how you say how can you stop a cannon ball. You can't. Well, you can. But this is figurative and literal. The poem has little effect, and much interest. Is that what you mean? All the energy of a cannon ball, and none of the sense in shooting it off? The theme of the poem seems to be rooted, and routed, in the line: He never knew just how to be with his potential energy. And that seems to be the whole fault, or flaw, with the poem. It has energy, and meaning, but no substance. Am I wrong? I wonder if you could explain. Just enough to let me know if I'm on the right track.

---

Rumbling nights are dark and cold when you don't believe a thing you're told. That line stands out to me as good. The most interesting line in the poem, because I can relate to it. Still I wonder if English is your first language, or your language at all.

You made me smile.  Yes, English is my first (and only) language.  

I knew "Bobby" except his name was Alfred.  An abused child who lashed out and went down in flames at a young age.  I guess if I have to explain it I didn't do a good job in the first place.

---

I can hear an English accent, of someone who speaks English some way, somehow. But it's still so broken up. Do you not have any way of framing it I'm missing? Or is this just how it is? I like to get a little bit of information, it doesn't hurt to get a little bit of frame.

Sorry, pure American.  My intent was to give snapshots and let the reader fill in the spaces.  Allowing you to put your own chosen face to Bobby; an abused child who lashed out.  I didn't want to do all the work for you.  If I missed the mark, then I did a poor job of painting.

[rowens]

You have to show some level of control, in the technical writing, in the rhythm and color, in the content. Anything can burst with energy, but the art is the control of it. The magic in the balance. This has the feel of error mixed with lack of practice. That's what comes across first and foremost. The one thing you could try before anything else is looking at the relation between the content in the rhymes, and see if it could stretch less. Try not to add a phrase or sentence just because it rhymes.

[vagabond]

This is my first posting.  I'm very eager to learn and improve.  Looking forward to your help.


Cannonball
 
 
Bobby had a single plan to leave it all to that old man.
An brand new stage; a different cast; just how long can one storm last?
 
I saw him and I turned away, I left him to his own decay.    since this is the only line where the narrator comes in and no further relation is given i would rather leave it out because it interrupts the story.
He took to drink and losing fights and beaten dogs are known to bite.  somehow this shows an adult, but the lines that follow seem to talk of a child. you might move it further below.
 
And Bobby was a cannonball flying thru each shattered wall.
Not a thing would slow him down ‘til he buried in the ground.
A hunk of iron burning hot: betting on a single shot.
He knew he’d get one single fall.
Who could stop a cannonball?
Yes, who could stop a cannonball?
 
His treasure formed a tiny pile and getting to sleep could take a while.    for rhythm (if you want): ".. and finding sleep could take a while"
Rumbling nights are dark and cold when you don’t believe a word you’re told.  hmm.. it could also make sense to write you don´t believe a word you´re told when rumbling nights are dark and cold. it would bring up images of the rumbling as batting the child in my view. 
 
Who can tell them all the cause?  They never wait for Santa Clause.   this line somehow doesn´t make sense to me.
They wear a shirt to hide a bruise and walk to school in dirty shoes.
 
And Bobby was a cannonball busting thru each shattered wall.
Pure inertia made him fly, whistling through the midnight sky.          
He never knew just how to be with his potential energy,               you might change it into "use his potential energy somehow" of course it´s hard or even impossible for an abused child to do that or say, direct it properly. i think the above line with the beaten dogs that are known to bite would fit in well after this. 
A sonic boom will sound his fall.
Who can stop a cannonball?
Yeah, who can stop a cannonball?

a good poem. i only understood the content after the explanation but then it would make it a lot plainer to explain in the poem. that´s always hard to do.

[nibbed]

Cannonball
 
 
Bobby had a single plan to leave it all to that old man.                                              Leave all of what?
An brand new stage; a different cast; just how long can one storm last?                  "A", not "An"
 
I saw him and I turned away, I left him to his own decay.                                         Decay, as in tooth or radiation? Sin?
He took to drink and losing fights and beaten dogs are known to bite.                      This line tells much about Bobby.
 
And Bobby was a cannonball flying thru each shattered wall.                                     
Not a thing would slow him down ‘til he buried in the ground.                                   This sentence seems incomplete, unless it's meant as something slangy.
A hunk of iron burning hot: betting on a single shot.                                                 -good rhyme here.
He knew he’d get one single fall.
Who could stop a cannonball?
Yes, who could stop a cannonball?                                                                            Can't a strong man with a handlebar mustache and boxer boots?
 
His treasure formed a tiny pile and getting to sleep could take a while.                        the beats in this line seem awkward, off
Rumbling nights are dark and cold when you don’t believe a word you’re told.           might sound smoother "don't believe a word you're told"
 
Who can tell them all the cause?  They never wait for Santa Clause.
They wear a shirt to hide a bruise and walk to school in dirty shoes.
 
And Bobby was a cannonball busting thru each shattered wall.
Pure inertia made him fly, whistling through the midnight sky.                                   these two lines are really good
He never knew just how to be with his potential energy,                                            I'd add "such" potential energy
A sonic boom will sound his fall.
Who can stop a cannonball?
Yeah, who can stop a cannonball?



Hi Jack, I am sorry I didn't comment sooner. I actually thought I had, perhaps I had difficulty with the format and I didn't post it. I came back to see how things were going on this poem and saw I hadn't commented, afterall. I am sorry. I like how this poem reads like a song. I thought about John Cougar Mellancamp, not sure how to spell his name, but he just came to mind. A poet in song. I have known Bobbies, too, and hope they find peace and healing.


Have a wonderful day of writing.
nibbed

[just mercedes]

This is my first posting.  I'm very eager to learn and improve.  Looking forward to your help.


Cannonball
 
 
Bobby had a single plan to leave it all to that old man.
An brand new stage; a different cast; just how long can one storm last?
 
I saw him and I turned away, I left him to his own decay.
He took to drink and losing fights and beaten dogs are known to bite.
 
And Bobby was a cannonball flying thru each shattered wall.
Not a thing would slow him down ‘til he buried in the ground.
A hunk of iron burning hot: betting on a single shot.
He knew he’d get one single fall.
Who could stop a cannonball?
Yes, who could stop a cannonball?
 
His treasure formed a tiny pile and getting to sleep could take a while.
Rumbling nights are dark and cold when you don’t believe a word you’re told.
 
Who can tell them all the cause?  They never wait for Santa Clause.
They wear a shirt to hide a bruise and walk to school in dirty shoes.
 
And Bobby was a cannonball busting thru each shattered wall.
Pure inertia made him fly, whistling through the midnight sky.
He never knew just how to be with his potential energy,
A sonic boom will sound his fall.
Who can stop a cannonball?
Yeah, who can stop a cannonball?

Hi Jack, and welcome! 

I wonder if using rhyme and fairly strict meter works best for your poem?  In some places the need for an internal rhyme weakens the thrust i.e. Who can tell them all the cause? They never wait for Santa Claus (no 'e'). Which is a pity because the next line is good.

'that old man' introduced in the first line is never explained.

I like the metaphor of 'cannonball' with its destructive energy, but was Bobby loaded, aimed and fired like a cannonball? Or was he in control of his trajectory, in a way a cannonball isn't? 

The 4th and 5th stanzas feel like a bridge in a song, and for me the poem works as lyrics - the repetition and rhythmic beat fixes in the attention of the listener.

But you describe Bobby's behaviour as 'out of control' yet used a very controlled form to do so. Which for me is another tension set up by the poem. 

erko (My parrot just walked across my keyboard and said that. Sometimes I wonder if he's an idiot-savant so I left it in). 

Thanks for posting this - I'll watch for where you take it. Good luck!