Unwritten (First post, a warm hello!)

[nightshade255]

Hey, i wrote this over a few days and have no one to show it to, so i took a look online for some sort of online dead poets society, and lo and behold! Just want to say hello and thanks in advance for giving this a read. Cheers!


Unwritten

Unwritten is this poem
Until that final verse be spoke.
Unwritten is this life
Until the punch line tells the joke.

Unwritten, just like you today
Rising to the morn.
To be written are all the things we say
Words never to be born.

When creation rises to the task
And displays its grandiose
When beauty flows from fingertips
In thickness most verbose
What void exists within this space
What once appeared morose
Uptakes humanities flowered gems
To destroy the sloths pathos
To fill it now with things unreal
New ideas which would engross
And inspire the children of our years
And rise from comatose.

Slowly now the pages turn
And written now you are
For another chapter be
Engraved in your memoir
Yet here you rise again anew
And through distant eyes afar
You will perceive the world today
Your perspective now ajar
Open up these eyes and see
Embrace new and bizarre
For life regains its will to be
At the dawning of our star.

Flowered gems, the work of man
The toil of skilled hands
Bring unto us the world we see
Contorted by commands
The passion that augments our work
The emotion which withstands
Is what drives our creative side
To take fragmented strands
And polish them with time and care
And procure art that expands
The passion of those who wish to stop
And witness our hearts demands.

And so with that, the artisan
Has dragged the pen with ink
And scrawled upon reality
The perspectives he can think
And shared these thoughts with others
So that they may join the link
Writing in what had been empty
The unwritten pushed to the brink
What purpose then is there to life
If not to share the sync
Of humanities worldviews reflected
In song and dance and drink.

But flowered gems, anew and true
And beautiful while they last
Find their beauty locked in time
When death brings them to the past
For everything is doomed to die
Lets have this truth unmasked
Only in death will we ever see
That beautiful things die fast.

And so what had been come to writ
Now falls to disarray
The dust to dust now to the wind
And blow the past away
Clean the slate and wash the board
Leave space for the next to play
To live and learn and experience
And write what comes their way
Plant flowered gems of passion now
To share until doomsday
For human heart and emotion
Can outlive deaths decay.

What was unwritten now to write
This final verse be played
This life of mine filled with such love
Only ink now could convey.




October 3rd - 2012

[billy]

Hi again nightshade255; after the first few reads i felt it was saying a lot in length but not so much in meaning. i left some feedback in the body of the poem.

Hey, i wrote this over a few days and have no one to show it to, so i took a look online for some sort of online dead poets society, and lo and behold! Just want to say hello and thanks in advance for giving this a read. Cheers!


Unwritten

Unwritten is this poem
Until that final verse be spoke.
Unwritten is this life
Until the punch line tells the joke. the opening verse feels a little weak

Unwritten, just like you today
Rising to the morn.
To be written are all the things we say to be written are is redundant and unless you write down all you say, an untruth
Words never to be born. this line feels redundant as it a given fact.

When creation rises to the task what task?
And displays its grandiose the line leaves me wondering what it means
When beauty flows from fingertips
In thickness most verbose
What void exists within this space
What once appeared morose
Uptakes humanities flowered gems
To destroy the sloths pathos sloth's
To fill it now with things unreal
New ideas which would engross
And inspire the children of our years
And rise from comatose.

Slowly now the pages turn
And written now you are
For another chapter be
Engraved in your memoir
Yet here you rise again anew
And through distant eyes afar
You will perceive the world today
Your perspective now ajar
Open up these eyes and see
Embrace new and bizarre
For life regains its will to be
At the dawning of our star.

Flowered gems, the work of man
The toil of skilled hands
Bring unto us the world we see
Contorted by commands
The passion that augments our work
The emotion which withstands
Is what drives our creative side
To take fragmented strands
And polish them with time and care
And procure art that expands
The passion of those who wish to stop
And witness our hearts demands.

And so with that, the artisan
Has dragged the pen with ink
And scrawled upon reality
The perspectives he can think
And shared these thoughts with others
So that they may join the link
Writing in what had been empty
The unwritten pushed to the brink
What purpose then is there to life
If not to share the sync
Of humanities worldviews reflected
In song and dance and drink.

But flowered gems, anew and true
And beautiful while they last
Find their beauty locked in time
When death brings them to the past
For everything is doomed to die
Lets have this truth unmasked
Only in death will we ever see
That beautiful things die fast.

And so what had been come to writ
Now falls to disarray
The dust to dust now to the wind cliche
And blow the past away
Clean the slate and wash the board cliche
Leave space for the next to play
To live and learn and experience
And write what comes their way
Plant flowered gems of passion now
To share until doomsday
For human heart and emotion
Can outlive deaths decay.

What was unwritten now to write
This final verse be played cliche
This life of mine filled with such love
Only ink now could convey.




October 3rd - 2012

because this is in the serious critique forum i have to be harsh and honest. the end rhymes work well with each other but intrinsically they fall short because the poem itself feels weak and overburdened with excessive use of large sounding words phrase that tell us little. when they do they're often cliche. (a phrase that's been said by other previously to your use.)
thanks for the read.

[Leanne]

Hi nightshade, and welcome! Serious critique doesn't necessarily mean harsh, but it's going to be more thorough than in most other places, so strap yourself in

Unwritten

Unwritten is this poem
Until that final verse be spoke.
Unwritten is this life
Until the punch line tells the joke. -- I actually like this opening. It feels quite a bit like the start of a Greek play, with the chorus setting the scene. There are a couple of problems that are fairly common missteps until you find a stronger, more confident voice, such as "be spoke" -- this is inverted syntax, which a lot of people think of as being "poetic" because it's common in classic poems, but grammar's changed a fair bit since Shakespeare's day . It's often best to try to fit the rhymes to your poem, not your poem to the rhymes, so that it seems like you're in control. For example, you could just say "is spoke" and it's more natural (despite not being perfectly great grammar!)

Unwritten, just like you today
Rising to the morn.
To be written are all the things we say
Words never to be born. -- same sort of problems here -- this is very convoluted so the reader is not quite sure exactly how to follow what you've written. We're simple creatures, remember! Make your themes complex, not your grammar

When creation rises to the task
And displays its grandiose -- grandiose what?
When beauty flows from fingertips
In thickness most verbose
What void exists within this space
What once appeared morose -- that once appeared, maybe?
Uptakes humanities flowered gems -- humanity's
To destroy the sloths pathos -- sloth's -- but what on earth are you on about? The"flowered gems" symbol might mean something personal to you, but it's very obscure without some kind of key for the reader.
To fill it now with things unreal
New ideas which would engross
And inspire the children of our years
And rise from comatose.

Slowly now the pages turn
And written now you are -- more Yodaspeak
For another chapter be
Engraved in your memoir
Yet here you rise again anew
And through distant eyes afar
You will perceive the world today
Your perspective now ajar
Open up these eyes and see
Embrace new and bizarre
For life regains its will to be
At the dawning of our star.

Flowered gems, the work of man -- again the flowered gems, but there's no real indication of what you mean -- presumably you're talking about works of art but where's the connection?
The toil of skilled hands
Bring unto us the world we see
Contorted by commands
The passion that augments our work
The emotion which withstands
Is what drives our creative side
To take fragmented strands
And polish them with time and care
And procure art that expands
The passion of those who wish to stop
And witness our hearts demands.

And so with that, the artisan
Has dragged the pen with ink
And scrawled upon reality
The perspectives he can think
And shared these thoughts with others
So that they may join the link -- I definitely understand the drive and desire to do this
Writing in what had been empty
The unwritten pushed to the brink
What purpose then is there to life
If not to share the sync
Of humanities worldviews reflected
In song and dance and drink. -- amen to that, and cheers!

But flowered gems, anew and true
And beautiful while they last
Find their beauty locked in time
When death brings them to the past
For everything is doomed to die
Lets have this truth unmasked
Only in death will we ever see
That beautiful things die fast.

And so what had been come to writ -- more convoluted grammar
Now falls to disarray
The dust to dust now to the wind
And blow the past away
Clean the slate and wash the board
Leave space for the next to play
To live and learn and experience
And write what comes their way
Plant flowered gems of passion now
To share until doomsday
For human heart and emotion
Can outlive deaths decay.

What was unwritten now to write
This final verse be played
This life of mine filled with such love
Only ink now could convey. -- this ties back to the first stanza nicely, serving as bookends.

I'd love to see you tidy this up as a kind of philosophical statement, there's certainly promise. A handy tip when you're using rhyme is to try and work in some meter as well, so that the rhymes fall where you want them to when they're spoken aloud. There are threads on meter in the Novice forum, which is handy not just for novices

[billy]

okay...i have to be honest

[Philatone]

hello night!

I think this poem works as a base for something more. poems about writing are common, so standing out can be a challenge. what could possibly strengthen this would be

a) a chosen, consistent meter. as is, the lines may last as long as they want. when working with rhymes, a meter can help deepen the effect of your words and give a stronger sense of organization/ polish.

b) standard grammar/ syntax. at times, you inverted your subjects and verbs. English prefers subjects before verbs: we want to know 'who does what' before the action hits us. using active voice over the passive (e.g., "I wrote you" vs. "you are written by me") also makes lines feel more immediate and have a more lasting impact.

starting with phrases and adverbs can potentially have a similar, lessening effect on a line (e.g.

Only in death will we ever see/ That beautiful things die fast.

could easily become "We will only see that..."). Of course, what makes this difficult to follow at times is, for metered and rhyming poems, the need to end on a rhyme. When I write in meter, I always remind myself this: never sacrifice meaning for structure. Meaning is more important than ending a line on a word that fits your rhyme scheme. If you end up twisting sentences just to get a rhyme working, it will sacrifice your piece, and your reader will know what you are up to.

c) some trimming. a few stanzas, I think, could be shortened and combined (e.g., 3 and 4) or removed (the 8th didn't add much to the piece for me).

with these points in mind, I think an edit could lift this piece higher

[nightshade255]

Hey all! I really appreciate your reviews and constructive criticism, and I've taken some of your advice to heart. Upon reading it a few more times I noticed that some of the stanzas aren't even necessary for the main idea, and so I've cut out a bit and tidied up the rest. What do you think of this revision?


Unwritten

Unwritten is this poem
Until that final verse is spoke.
Unwritten is this life
Until the punch line tells the joke.

When Creation rises to the task
And displays its grandiose
When beauty flows from fingertips
In thickness most verbose
What void exists within this space
Which once appeared morose
Uptakes the work of gifted hands
To destroy the sloth’s pathos
And fill it now with things unreal
New ideas which would engross
And inspire the children of our years
To rise from comatose.

Flowered gems, the work of man
The toil of skilled hands
Bring unto us the world we see
Contorted by commands
The passion that augments our work
The emotion which withstands
Is what drives our creative side
To take fragmented strands
And polish them with time and care
And procure art that expands
The passion of those who wish to stop
And witness our hearts demands.

And so with that, the artisan
Has dragged the pen with ink
And scrawled upon reality
The perspectives he can think
And shared these thoughts with others
So that they may join the link
Writing in what had been empty
The unwritten pushed to the brink
What purpose then is there to life
If not to share the sync
Of humanities worldviews reflected
In song and dance and drink.

But flowered gems, anew and true
And beautiful while they last
Find their beauty locked in time
When death brings them to the past
For everything is doomed to die
Lets have this truth unmasked
Only in death we will only see
That beautiful things die fast.

Look now and see what’s come to be
Will fall to disarray
The dust to dust now to the wind
And blow the past away
Clean the slate and wash the board
Leave space for the next to play
To live and learn and experience
And write what comes their way
Plant flowered gems of passion now
To share until doomsday
For human heart and emotion
Can outlive deaths decay.

What was unwritten now to write
This final verse be played
This life of mine filled with such love
Only ink now could convey.


Thanks again guys, cheers