Can't come up with the words that I want,
every ounce of creativity has left my head.
Among all the stress and anger,
I begin to write in red.
I don't feel it anymore, I guess I lost my touch.
The feelings are there but I don't know what to say.
Do I keep trying or just give up?
I doubt I'd be able to show it to you anyway.
When I put my pen to the paper,
I get nothing but a blank stare.
There's no more vision in my eyes or mind,
only hate there.
For so long I've been lost in my disbelief.
Even in a friendly face I could only see hate,
but now I understand I was my own fall.
I only wonder if it's too late.
I'm tired of looking around and seeing I'm alone,
but it'll never change with so much anger in my head.
Honestly I don't know what to do,
and until it's resolved I fear I can only write in red.
Hey guys, this is my first attempt at writing poetry and just looking for some feedback.
Red Ink
Can't come up with the words I wanted,
My creativity is stunted.
Full of stress and anger, got my mental behavior in danger,
Yell a curse at the savior.
Now I'm writing in red, hurting in my head.
Just don't know what I want said.
I don't feel it, think I lost my touch.
'Bout ready to bust.
Guess I lost trust in my own mind,
Wish there was a rewind.
Back to the days when imagination was a gold mine.
(12-29-2017, 02:08 AM)ADUnser Wrote: Can't come up with the words I wanted,
My creativity is stunted. i suggest not trying to rhyme if there is no specific form containing the rhyme scheme (maybe this judgement comes only because forced rhyme and meter is my own prime mistake when trying to shape a story)
Full of stress and anger, got my mental behavior in danger,
Yell a curse at the savior.
Now I'm writing in red, hurting in my head.
Just don't know what I want said. leave out lines like this and the two following ones .. it unneccessarily makes the poem longer and distracts from what you want to say.
I don't feel it, think I lost my touch.
'Bout ready to bust.
Guess I lost trust in my own mind,
Wish there was a rewind.
Back to the days when imagination was a gold mine. as a reader i could use an example right here
What is the problem?
When I put my pen to paper,
just get a blank stare.
No vision in my eyes or mind,
only hate there. this is a point that needs explanation
Through and through, creativity fallen to fury.
I'm starting to worry,
Thoughts are a flurry. i think those rhymes need more story
Need to find a way to keep myself sturdy.
For so long I've been lost in my disbelief.
Everyone I meet, creatin' imaginary beef.
Of course I always knew I was my own fall,
Even when I was a kid playing b-ball.
Couldn't make a friend from a teammate,
Cause I decided I would hate. there´s the hate again. i think there´s something in your poem wanting out, but it needs more definite words.
And I often ask myself if it's too late,
look around and I'm alone.
Hangin' at home with no ringin' on my phone.
So I decided to drop the act,
With myself I'm gonna make a pact.
Start living in love instead of anger, this "love" seems too much like "deus ex machina". maybe i want to believe, but fail at the moment.
And say goodbye to the bitterness inside my head, give an example where this bitterness comes from and as a reader i might relate to it.
So maybe I can stop writing in red.
it´s like you´re pregnant with a story here, but it´s not yet born.
i´m sorry if my critique wasn´t too helpful, it´s all i can offer right now, but i´d come back to look for an edit.
My biggest suggestion would be to reevaluate your rhyme scheme. For the most part, the rhyming is inconsistent, and I would recommend rewriting the poem without any rhyming. This might allow you focus more on saying what you want to express because there are times where the rhymes feel like they're intruding on the poem's meaning. I'll go into a little more detail below:
(12-29-2017, 02:08 AM)ADUnser Wrote: Hey guys, this is my first attempt at writing poetry and just looking for some feedback.
Red Ink -I like this title. I wonder if you could play around with this image more? For example, it seems like the red ink here implies anger, but it could also relate to editing/correcting one's work. May be you could play around with that double meaning. Just a thought.
Can't come up with the words I wanted, -Why "wanted" instead of "want"? The answer is because you wanted to rhyme. I would be curious to see what you would end up with if you edit the rhyming out of this piece.
My creativity is stunted.
Full of stress and anger, got my mental behavior in danger,
Yell a curse at the savior.
Now I'm writing in red, hurting in my head.
Just don't know what I want said.
I don't feel it, think I lost my touch.
'Bout ready to bust.
Guess I lost trust in my own mind,
Wish there was a rewind.
Back to the days when imagination was a gold mine.
What is the problem?
When I put my pen to paper,
just get a blank stare.
No vision in my eyes or mind,
only hate there.
Through and through, creativity fallen to fury.
I'm starting to worry,
Thoughts are a flurry.
Need to find a way to keep myself sturdy.
For so long I've been lost in my disbelief.
Everyone I meet, creatin' imaginary beef.
Of course I always knew I was my own fall,
Even when I was a kid playing b-ball.
Couldn't make a friend from a teammate,
Cause I decided I would hate.
And I often ask myself if it's too late,
look around and I'm alone.
Hangin' at home with no ringin' on my phone.
So I decided to drop the act,
With myself I'm gonna make a pact.
Start living in love instead of anger,
And say goodbye to the bitterness inside my head,
So maybe I can stop writing in red.
I hope I was helpful here, and I look forward to seeing where you go from here with this piece.
Can't come up with the words that I want,
every ounce of creativity has left my head.
Among all the stress and anger,
I begin to write in red.
I don't feel it anymore, I guess I lost my touch.
The feelings are there but I don't know what to say.
Do I keep trying or just give up?
I doubt I'd be able to show it to you anyway.
When I put my pen to the paper,
I get nothing but a blank stare.
There's no more vision in my eyes or mind,
only hate there.
For so long I've been lost in my disbelief.
Even in a friendly face I could only see hate,
but now I understand I was my own fall.
I only wonder if it's too late.
I'm tired of looking around and seeing I'm alone,
but it'll never change with so much anger in my head.
Honestly I don't know what to do,
and until it's resolved I fear I can only write in red.
Can't come up with the words that I want,
every ounce of creativity has left my head. // check the foot before 'creativity'. fix this stressed syllable in your meter and this line will read much better. Try a pyhrric.
Among all the stress and anger, // same here with metering. add 'of' between 'all the' to carry the flow better.
I begin to write in red.
I don't feel it anymore, I guess I lost my touch.
The feelings are there but I don't know what to say.
Do I keep trying or just give up?
I doubt I'd be able to show it to you anyway. // consider rephrasing this in a different way; eg "its a labyrinth you couldn't begin to fathom", or you could go for the surreal.
When I put my pen to the paper,
I get nothing but a blank stare.
There's no more vision in my eyes or mind,
only hate there.
For so long I've been lost in my disbelief.
Even in a friendly face I could only see hate, // Be more concise here
but now I understand I was my own fall.
I only wonder if it's too late. // could be posed as a question. "is it too late?" it brings the reader in better.
I'm tired of looking around and seeing I'm alone,
but it'll never change with so much anger in my head.
Honestly I don't know what to do, // not a fan of this line. Read this stanza and see if theres something better you could put here. Rephrasing might be good
and until it's resolved I fear I can only write in red. // Excellent finish.
Good little poem about writers block and being unable to express yourself (though isn't a completed poem about the subject a bit of a paradox?) Some poetry techniques, even if you don't intend to write in iambic pentameter or whatnot: This could do you a lot of good to learn. They will help you get a feel for how English flows on its mechanical level. Later, you'll begin to apply those principles to your prosody. I see a lot of potential in this, so keep at it!
Hi, ADUnser
Welcome here to this place. It is the first time I've read your poetry, but I am mighty forgetful, so I apologize if I am wrong for that. I liked what your poem was saying about writer's block. I felt it rhyme and starting to find meter in some places. I don't know if this works for you, but I used to take my hands and clap out the words to help me find proper counts of syllables/stressers in words. The title might be true (or not). I think I would like the title to be Red Ink on Blue Paper or green paper, or yellow paper, or some color, but I don't know why. Maybe not even a color, maybe a pad of paper or a roll of paper or a stack of paper or an empty paper? But it is your poem and not my own...sorry my critique is so long. It's hard to be basic when it's a poem of fine potential.
Red Ink
Can't come up with the words that I want, every ounce of creativity has left my head.
Among all the stress and anger,
I begin to write [only]
in red.
I don't feel it anymore, I guess I lost my touch. The feelings are there but I don't know what to say.
Do I keep trying or just give up?
I doubt I'd be able to show it to you anyway.
When I put my pen to the paper, I get nothing but a blank stare. [,] There's no more vision in my eyes or mind, only [just] hate [residing/wrestling/created,etc] there.
For so long I've been lost in my disbelief. Even in a friendly face I could only see hate, but now I understand I was my own fall. [,] I only wonder if it's too late.
I'm tired of looking around and seeing I'm alone, but it'll never change [,] with so much anger in my head. Honestly I don't know what to do, and until it's resolved I fear I can [so I]only write in red.
Reading it like this gives better meter.
It'll be okay, ya know. Anger turned into tears
and pity often help me get through the rough
spots in life.
