Posts: 16
Threads: 3
Joined: Dec 2012
Lisa,
her name was Lisa Clement...
I could not even speak...
Transfixed,
I see her...
Soak in every detail...
She knows...
They talk, they whisper.
She smiles and plays, with the girls...
I walk on the track,
alone...
I see down,
The ground before me...
Alone it is quiet, no twisted words of spite.
they,
the boys play games...
tricks on each other.
Different, tall, Quiet, Well mannered...
teachers pet...
I care not.
I walk on the track,
Alone...
I see down,
the ground before me...
the bell Rings.
Class...
Lisa,
Sitting near...
the same room.
Girls...
Shapes...
I close my eyes...
Wonder...
What's down there..?
I am a man...
They are women,
young still...
Treated like pets.
NO.
NO.
NO!
you cannot,
you must not,
we will not allow!
Morals...
church...
I was a child...
teachings of god...
Impossible Things...
Dream...
Love,
The Garden of Eden...
Gone.
Is it..?
Why,
Why cant i have lisa...?
LISA HAVE ME!
Note...
My soul on paper...
What did i write...?
forgotten...
Sealed love letter...
On the bus Home,
Offer...
take..?
No.
Drop on lap...
Runs.
snatch up,
Run Home...
Walk..?
Cry...
All night...
God..?
Somehow,
If I just wait...
End up happily Married...
Nothing.
I care not.
God is good, and just...
I know I am good...
Reward?
Next life...?
No.
In heaven...?
Surely I wait.
Cry hard...
Lost.
I walk on the track,
alone...
I see down,
The ground before me...
Silence.
Respect,
See other girls...
Say...
Do...
Nothing.
I wait.
Lisa?
Only one.
Soul mate..?
Losing,
time...
youth...
money...
physically...
Not the man I was.
So much potential...
Lost.
Prison...
Mind...
Diversion...
What do I Want..?
Now?
Money..?
Worthless.
things..?
Small...
House..?
Cabin..?
Wait...
Die.
The above is a revision, below is what i originally posted.
Lisa
her name was Lisa *******.
I could not even speak
Transfixed
Eye see her
Soak in every detail
She knows
They talk, they whisper
She smiles and plays
with the girls
I walk in the track
alone
I see down
The ground before me
Silence
NO Evil Names
they
the boys play games
tricks on eachother
Different
tall
Quiet
Well mannered
teachers pet
I care not
i walk on the track
Alone
I see down
the ground before me
the bell Rings
Class
Lisa
Sitting near
the same room
Girls
Shapes
Close my eyes
Wonder
Whats down there?
I am a man
They are women
young still
Treated like pets
NO
NO
NO
you cannot
you must not
we will not allow
Morals
church
I was a child
teachings of god
Impossible Things
Dream
Love
Garden of Eden
Gone
is it?
Why
Why cant i have lisa
Lisa have me
Note
My soul on paper
What did i write
forgotten
Sealed love letter
ON the bus Home
Offer
take
No
Drop on lap
Runs
snatch up
Run Home
Walk?
Cry
All night
God?
Somehow
If I just wait
End up happily Married
Nothing
I care not
God is Good, and just
I know I am Good
Reward?
Next life?
No
In heaven?
Surely I wait
Cry hard
Lost
I walk on the track
alone
I see down
The ground before me
Silence
Respect
See other girls
Say
Do
Nothing
I wait
Lisa
Only one
Soul mate?
Losing
time
youth
money
physically
Not the man I was
So much potential
Lost
Prison
Mind
Diversion
What do I Want
Now
Money
Worthless
things?
Small
House
cabin?
Wait
Die
Posts: 108
Threads: 32
Joined: Dec 2012
Hello smakpopy. I had a read through this a few times. I enjoyed it. The reason being, it's like reading a story, but the format allows the reader to fill in the blanks. I have no real crits to give. A few bits I really enjoyed pointed out below
Quote:Lisa
her name was Lisa *******.
I could not even speak
Transfixed
Eye see her
Soak in every detail
She knows
They talk, they whisper
She smiles and plays
with the girls
I walk in the track
alone
I see down
The ground before me
Silence
NO Evil Names
they
the boys play gamesI really like the next few lines. It sets the picture of a group of people with extrem effortlessness. I find my self drawn into their world and thinking about what they may have been doing, or who they are, good job.
tricks on eachother
Different
tall
Quiet
Well mannered
teachers pet
I care not
i walk on the track
Alone
I see down
the ground before me
the bell Rings
Class
Lisa I love this next long part down to the letter, I think I'm reading it right. Is there some kind of reaction here could be just me reading it wrong
Sitting near
the same room
Girls
Shapes
Close my eyes
Wonder
Whats down there?
I am a man
They are women
young still
Treated like pets
NO
NO
NO
you cannot
you must not
we will not allow
Morals
church
I was a child
teachings of god
Impossible Things
Dream
Love
Garden of Eden
Gone
is it?
Why
Why cant i have lisa
Lisa have me
Note
My soul on paper
What did i write
forgotten
Sealed love letter
ON the bus Home
Offer
take
No
Drop on lap
Runs
snatch up
Run Home
Walk?
Cry
All night
God?
Somehow
If I just wait
End up happily Married
Nothing
I care not
God is Good, and just
I know I am Good
Reward?
Next life?
No
In heaven?
Surely I wait
Cry hard
Lost
I walk on the track
alone
I see down
The ground before me
Silence
Respect
See other girls
Say
Do
Nothing
I wait
Lisa
Only one
Soul mate?
Losing
time
youth
money
physically
Not the man I was
So much potential from here to the end I really like the feel that the person has settled and some what given up on his dreams. I like how it read quite fast and give the feel that after a point the life was just sucked away. All in all great job
Lost
Prison
Mind
Diversion
What do I Want
Now
Money
Worthless
things?
Small
House
cabin?
Wait
Die
Posts: 5,057
Threads: 1,075
Joined: Dec 2009
12-27-2012, 05:26 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-27-2012, 05:36 PM by billy.)
hi smakpopy, i moved the poem to mild so you can get an idea of how the feedback thing works. in the other forum it can be very heavy and often comes as a shock.
it looks like the poem is titled Lisa. always try and give the poem a title 
there are a few grammar probs, and some lines need syntax. (to be laid out in a readable way) there are lots of good lines in the poem and i found it to be very sad. the poem had a deep feeling of aloneness and need running through it. you already tried to make it tight, (of few words) watch out for anything that doesn't add something, such as even in the 3rd line, it isn't needed. finally, you use her name a lot in the poem, make the times you use the name a new stanza (non-rhymed verse) thanks for the read.
(12-27-2012, 02:51 PM)smakpopy Wrote: Lisa i'd make this line the title, no need for the ***** on the next line.
her name was Lisa *******.
I could not even speak
Transfixed
Eye see her did you mean eyes see her or I see her?
Soak in every detail
She knows
They talk, they whisper
She smiles and plays
with the girls
I walk in the track
alone
I see down
The ground before me
Silence
NO Evil Names
they
the boys play games
tricks on eachother
Different
tall
Quiet
Well mannered
teachers pet
I care not
i walk on the track
Alone
I see down
the ground before me
the bell Rings
Class
Lisa
Sitting near
the same room
Girls
Shapes
Close my eyes
Wonder
Whats down there?
I am a man
They are women
young still
Treated like pets
NO
NO
NO
you cannot
you must not
we will not allow
Morals
church
I was a child
teachings of god
Impossible Things
Dream
Love
Garden of Eden
Gone
is it?
Why
Why cant i have lisa
Lisa have me
Note
My soul on paper
What did i write
forgotten
Sealed love letter
ON the bus Home
Offer
take
No
Drop on lap
Runs
snatch up
Run Home
Walk?
Cry
All night
God?
Somehow
If I just wait
End up happily Married
Nothing
I care not
God is Good, and just
I know I am Good
Reward?
Next life?
No
In heaven?
Surely I wait
Cry hard
Lost
I walk on the track
alone
I see down
The ground before me
Silence
Respect
See other girls
Say
Do
Nothing
I wait
Lisa
Only one
Soul mate?
Losing
time
youth
money
physically
Not the man I was
So much potential
Lost
Prison
Mind
Diversion
What do I Want
Now
Money
Worthless
things?
Small
House
cabin?
Wait
Die
Posts: 16
Threads: 3
Joined: Dec 2012
I left it untitled because i would rather the reader decide what the focus is here, is it all on lisa, or is it on the speaker.
The *******, is a blotted out name, i could have left it as it was, but since it is a real persons name i was not sure it would have been appropriate in drawing attention to her that she does not want. Oftentimes in books you see a disclaimer about characters not being real people, or if they are real people the events are totally fictional, neither is the case here.
If you listen to "I could not speak" and "i could not even speak", the first one is as simple as saying "speechless" and the following line "transfixed" would make it out to be "speechless, i stood there"
The second version is better because it implies there is some reason, some powerful reason i could not speak. Saying "I could not even speak" means that not only can you not speak, you also cant perform other actions as well.
Then when i said "Eye see her", it is exactly "i see her", but it is also a play on words meaning that i see her with my eyes. The question you need to ask yourself is, "Do i see her with my heart?"
The few times i put lisa alone on a line signifies that the narrator is focused completely on the object of his affection, i did not feel the need to add witty lines before or after it that would make his love seem sappy. As far as stanzas, are you suggesting i break it up into paragraphs? If i did i could forgo the need to add commas for the reader to pause at when reading it.
At no time does the speaker actually talk to lisa, he tries to put down on paper how he feels, express what emotion he has for her on paper, but she would not even look at it or even take it and throw it away without reading it.
3 times i repeated the fact that i walked alone on the track at school, it is the only thing repeated arbitrarily, and it was done so and at points to drive home the fact that this person is very lonely. The first 2 times i said it was to open and close a scene of my normal school day.
The 3rd time i said i walked alone on the track it had a deeper meaning than simply walking alone out on a playground, at that point i had veered off the path of conformity and had no peers, i was truely alone and barring a miracle i would stay alone.
When i wrote it, i had no thought to the cadence it would be read in, i did break everything up and on handwritten paper each line is seperated by a blank line forcing you to pause as if every line is a thought, or that the whole thing is a series of disjointed thoughts stringing together to try to make sense of how this train wreck has come to be.
I had not intended to revise or edit it in any way, but i could add a comma at the end of any line i would like a reader to pause slightly when reading aloud or in their head.
The reason i posted this first poem in the serious critic forum was to totally open myself up for the harshest criticism, i would rather not begin in the new writers forum and be coddled in any way, so i dont feel i did something well or right when in fact its poor.
i did mention in another post as i introduced myself that i am a new writer, with no formal training experience or skill.
Yes i did read the rules and or suggestions about posting in others threads, and i intend to review some other poems, but i did want everyone to know before i did that i wouldnt put much stock in my words about their works.
Anyway, thanks for the remarks, and i understand you moved this to medium level to try to protect me... But does that mean overall you would rate the poem as mediocre?
If you moved it just to protect me, id rather have it back in the first forum i posted it in and risk getting blasted for ineptitude.
Posts: 108
Threads: 32
Joined: Dec 2012
When I read the line, her name was Lisa *******, I took it as, her name was Lisa, some thing. What was her last name? As if time had eroded the name from memory, and what had seemed impotant at the time was a foggy memory now.
I thought this tied in great with the end of the poem.
So there we have it, we all read things with a different mind set.
Posts: 5,057
Threads: 1,075
Joined: Dec 2009
hi smakpopy,
i don't see any effort as mediocre. to be honest i didn't see it as well crafted as it could have been, but i see lots of poems that way  .
you wrote in reply; Quote:I had not intended to revise or edit it in any way, but i could add a comma at the end of any line i would like a reader to pause slightly when reading aloud or in their head.
which makes me question moving it back to serious. mainly the feedback forums are there for us to hone the poem into the best it can be. what you describe is called showcasing. if you want to just know if it's good or bad and nothing else. then one of the non feedback forums might be better.
i will put the poem back in serious as you request in the hope you do do an edit and try to improve the poem
the name thing; even if you tell us it's a real person, i won't believe you unless it's believable, ***** doesn't make me believe it, it doesn't make thing you're trying to keep someone's anonymity either. and i'm sure if she was real and read the poem she'd know it was about her. what i'm saying is subtlety often makes it easier for a reader to believe the words or absence of them. if you use ***** as a stand in last name, why not *****/***** for the whole name. in general we don't need a poet to defend their work. usually poetry like anything creative is indefensible
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(12-27-2012, 05:26 PM)billy Wrote: hi smakpopy, i moved the poem to mild so you can get an idea of how the feedback thing works. in the other forum it can be very heavy and often comes as a shock.
it looks like the poem is titled Lisa. always try and give the poem a title
there are a few grammar probs, and some lines need syntax. (to be laid out in a readable way) there are lots of good lines in the poem and i found it to be very sad. the poem had a deep feeling of aloneness and need running through it. you already tried to make it tight, (of few words) watch out for anything that doesn't add something, such as even in the 3rd line, it isn't needed. finally, you use her name a lot in the poem, make the times you use the name a new stanza (non-rhymed verse) thanks for the read.
(12-27-2012, 02:51 PM)smakpopy Wrote: 2
Lisa i'd make this line the title, no need for the ***** on the next line.
her name was Lisa *******.
I could not even speak
Transfixed
Eye see her did you mean eyes see her or I see her?
Soak in every detail
She knows
They talk, they whisper
She smiles and plays
with the girls
I walk in the track
alone
I see down
The ground before me
Silence
NO Evil Names
they
the boys play games
tricks on eachother
Different
tall
Quiet
Well mannered
teachers pet
I care not
i walk on the track
Alone
I see down
the ground before me
the bell Rings
Class
Lisa
Sitting near
the same room
Girls
Shapes
Close my eyes
Wonder
Whats down there?
I am a man
They are women
young still
Treated like pets
NO
NO
NO
you cannot
you must not
we will not allow
Morals
church
I was a child
teachings of god
Impossible Things
Dream
Love
Garden of Eden
Gone
is it?
Why
Why cant i have lisa
Lisa have me
Note
My soul on paper
What did i write
forgotten
Sealed love letter
ON the bus Home
Offer
take
No
Drop on lap
Runs
snatch up
Run Home
Walk?
Cry
All night
God?
Somehow
If I just wait
End up happily Married
Nothing
I care not
God is Good, and just
I know I am Good
Reward?
Next life?
No
In heaven?
Surely I wait
Cry hard
Lost
I walk on the track
alone
I see down
The ground before me
Silence
Respect
See other girls
Say
Do
Nothing
I wait
Lisa
Only one
Soul mate?
Losing
time
youth
money
physically
Not the man I was
So much potential
Lost
Prison
Mind
Diversion
What do I Want
Now
Money
Worthless
things?
Small
House
cabin?
Wait
Die
Can I pre-empt my crit? I have a limited ability, and an even less desire, to interpret the peregrinations of the disconnected PERSONAL thought of posters who by their very audacity (in as good a way as you care to understand this word) wish for no criticism. OK.....once that is clear I find myself in a dilemma.......you see, the merit in this sort of piece is that it exudes something from the writer......rage, sadness, bitternes, hopelessness etc but what it does not do is CREATE anything which can be evaluated by a third person. I should now say I give up and shut up....,.but that is not constructive in any way. So....I have read the words. They mean nothing to me....why should they? They are the random thoughts of a writer who by deliberately NOT making any attempt to poeticise the work loses the right to be criticised in any framework I am aware of......and that is unarguably the intention of the writer. So be it....it is a nice list. Use the backbone which you have created with your words and write a poem around it. Flesh it out. Give me information. Show me images. Make me believe. Write me a poem. How hard can it be?
Best,
tectak
Posts: 16
Threads: 3
Joined: Dec 2012
(12-28-2012, 08:15 AM)billy Wrote: in general we don't need a poet to defend their work. usually poetry like anything creative is indefensible
I had not really intended or wanted to try explain it in detail, but since i have put it up for criticism i dont mind doing so.
Dont look at any of this as defensive, it just is.
I had grown up in an upper middle class area of white suburbia, on a hill with plenty of evergreen trees.
The gradeschool i attended was wildwood elementary, and the church i attended was celebration lutheran church.
I had only 2 or 3 friends who lived nearby, the area our house was in had nice big secluded lots with plenty of trees and space around.
Not that i didnt have neighbors i just didnt know alot of them.
Since preschool i had developed a tendancy to be upset when i was with more than one other child, at least thats what i am told.
At any rate, i was a very good boy, meaning i showed good morals, respect, and when i started the 1st grade i was astonished to find gangs of 3 or more boys going around the playground calling other kids names or doing dirty tricks on them, spitting, whatever.
It did not help that i was a head taller than most of the boys my age, not that being tall is bad, but being different was and likely is bad in the eyes of kids like that.
I was also able to absorb everything i was taught in class and regurgitate it at will, so i was the first to raise my hand, and if none of the other kids could answer a teachers question i was the one everyone turned to, to hear it.
i also had a natural talent for drawing, once i had drawn my pet cat when i was like 6 or 8 years old with pencil on paper, and by using alot of light strokes of the pencil with more defined lines at spots i was able to depict my sleeping cat as i layed a foot away infront of him. It was like a picture.
And later, i had made a valentine, i had found an anatomical picture of a heart and then drew it on the card and gave it to my mom. that was either before puberty or after i had given up on lisa, and ultimately all girls. i forget.
anyway im skipping alot but by the 3rd grade i had taken alot of notice of girls and women, i was hot for my 3rd grade teacher ms norby, but i was too good a kid to even consider it aloud. all that ended when she got married to wiederspan.
Around the same time, i had noticed the girls starting to mature, and of them all i thought lisa was the most perfect, visually anyway.
She was not skinny or fat, not tall, she had brown hair and wore her bangs a certain way in the front, and it was slightly curled, mostly straight hair but some slight twist to it where it hung down to her shoulders.
She had a southern accent, but because of the way boys and girls were kept apart if not by teachers then by peer conformity, i had little chance to speak with her.
that reminds me of the first day i went to school on the bus in kindergarten or 1st grade, i had gotten on the bus and the first spot i saw with room was like the 4th bench on the left, there was a little blond girl sitting by the window and i sat next to her.
The whole bus went oooOOOOoooo, most likely started by some of the older kids who wouldnt have it in them to even sit by a girl since they know "better".
Anyway, i started to just flat out stare by the 3rd grade and 4th grade. I would try to catch looks at lisa when she wasnt noticing, and glance away shy if she noticed while paying attention to her reactions.
The few times i tried to talk to her she got exasperated and went off with other girls on the playground, they must have been saying alot to her or about her because i was not totally hiding my interest in her.
I dont know why she never would talk with me, i guess it may have had to do with the fact i was somewhat of an outcast on the playground among the guys since i just walked around the track until the bell rang ending recess.
i would walk around it and just look at the ground a dozen feet ahead, it got to be a habit of looking down so much that i wonder if it contributed to my slight nearsightedness today.
I did one day write down how i felt about her on a note and used small tears and folds to make it look like a solid letter. Today i couldnt remember what i wrote exactly on it.
One day i tried a few times to get her to take it at school, at the end of the day on the bus home i couldnt stand it anymore and just dropped it in her lap over her shoulder from the seat behind, she got up and left it on the seat, i snatched it up and got off the bus since it was my stop, and i went home and cried hard.
From then on, i looked but didnt speak much, i went to school but didnt try hard in class, after a short time i just stopped going to church, and i started to spend more time playing video games like nintendo, computer games, reading fantasy books, watching movies and tv.
i was basically waiting, and hoping that somehow i would end up married and happy, if not with lisa then someone. But i never did anything that could even start a friendship, and since i was lumped in with the nerds, fat kids, and alternative types by jr high, i wasnt ever approached by anyone else for friendship.
I started skipping so many days in school that my senior year i was suspended during the final semester for non attendance, i didnt want the stigma of a 2nd year senior so i didnt go back, i just got a ged at a comm collage easily.
After that, i didnt do much, i stayed at home, sometimes i would get kicked out as they tried to make me work, once i was forced into going to collage or going homeless so i got a telecom degree. Once on a whim i went fishing in alaska and made alot of money quick, but other than that i just didnt work much, a handful of jobs and never more than 3 or 4 months at a time.
By the time i would have graduated from high school i didnt think much about lisa, there were other girls i adored but did and said nothing.
It may be my fear of rejection has forced me to live a life where fears are removed, i dont have to work, i dont have to worry about rent or food and i can continue doing my diversions of computer gaming movies and such.
but on the other hand i have so little. Compared to others i have nothing, and when im gone no one will remember me for long or with any great regret over my death.
In fact most people would say based on what i do, take, and give, im more of a parasite in the way i survive. Its what i do not do that really defines me.
So if as the first review talked about, this poem evokes a feeling of utter and complete loss, then i suppose in that way it is a success.
Question i got to ask myself is: Why share the writings of loss? Is it to make others feel worse? Is it to make others feel better at my expense? Does it make me feel better to let others know i have silently suffered most of my life?
Or is this just some complicated way for a virgin to fail at snaring a PUSSY to play with, that will fail?
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i think you misunderstood me when i said art is indefensible, i meant that no matter what we're told, a poem or painting etc, only works for someone if it works. if it doesn't work for someone then all the explanations in the world won't make it work, i think we normally imprint the poem in our minds and that's how we always see it despite what the poet may tell us. let's also remember that the poet may say anything he wishes truth or untruth, (and i see no reason why yours isn't or can't be truthful. ) i always try and read a poem while keeping it at arms length from the poet, the writing has to make me connect if there is to be a connection with the poet. does that make sense, i'm not sure it does but it's he only way i can explain it.
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(12-28-2012, 10:30 AM)tectak Wrote: Can I pre-empt my crit? I have a limited ability, and an even less desire, to interpret the peregrinations of the disconnected PERSONAL thought of posters who by their very audacity (in as good a way as you care to understand this word) wish for no criticism. OK.....once that is clear I find myself in a dilemma.......you see, the merit in this sort of piece is that it exudes something from the writer......rage, sadness, bitternes, hopelessness etc but what it does not do is CREATE anything which can be evaluated by a third person. I should now say I give up and shut up....,.but that is not constructive in any way. So....I have read the words. They mean nothing to me....why should they? They are the random thoughts of a writer who by deliberately NOT making any attempt to poeticise the work loses the right to be criticised in any framework I am aware of......and that is unarguably the intention of the writer. So be it....it is a nice list. Use the backbone which you have created with your words and write a poem around it. Flesh it out. Give me information. Show me images. Make me believe. Write me a poem. How hard can it be?
Best,
tectak
I could take, like you said a list, and then form more detailed scenes with imagery around each, or try.
First in this revision i have broken it up and added more punctuation so that when read it has the speed, starts, and stops i feel it should be read in, or close to it.
To expand on it, or totally rewrite it will take me a little longer, and since i have nothing but time i will do it. There is little else i feel as stongly about, since love, or a form of love is tied into this more than many other...Tragedies i have been involved in.
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great to see you trying to edit it
i'll leave some feedback later as i have to eat food
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(12-28-2012, 11:17 AM)billy Wrote: i think you misunderstood me when i said art is indefensible, i meant that no matter what we're told, a poem or painting etc, only works for someone if it works. if it doesn't work for someone then all the explanations in the world won't make it work, i think we normally imprint the poem in our minds and that's how we always see it despite what the poet may tell us. let's also remember that the poet may say anything he wishes truth or untruth, (and i see no reason why yours isn't or can't be truthful. ) i always try and read a poem while keeping it at arms length from the poet, the writing has to make me connect if there is to be a connection with the poet. does that make sense, i'm not sure it does but it's he only way i can explain it.
I understand, i have vomited out all this, but theres no shiny juicy parts in the mess to draw a reader into it personally.
Maybe if i depicted the "bully" types in some detail or action that the reader can relate to, because they remember similar things going on when they were younger.
I also do not show the deep dark humor and sarcasm that develops in the main character after he has given up on his dreams. It just quickly ends, as another reader said the life is sucked away. But the life doesnt get sucked away quickly, life more or less ends and is replaced by existence.
i will have to think on it more, if im to revise it again.
There is a scene i can add, the days after lisa rejects the letter, that hes walking around the track and sees some other boy, smaller, more finely featured, alone, weak, and someone replaces whoever lisa will end up with, as him.
And he walks up to him casually veering onto the grass, and as he gets close the boy looks at him and he quickly drives his fist into the middle of the other boys face with all the power he has in his arm, and since he is one of the 2 larger kids in the school, the other boy drops to the ground and he walks on like nothing happened.
Only later is he called to the principals office where he denies it all, and ends up getting a wooden paddle to the bare ass right there in the office with a secretary watching.
There's nothing wrong with writing a poem that's screaming to get out. But what you can do is turn it into art. If you don't read poetry, and you're not interested in poetry as art, that's fine. There's some interest to everyone's life. Unfortunately, there are so many people writing about themselves that it won't get much attention unless you have a very exceptional life. The video games and movies are not your friend if you're always isolated. You obviously have a need for recognition, or at least companionship, and it already sounds like you know what it's like to suffer rejection. If you want to write, then work at it. Do whatever you can to practice and see where it leads, but you have to put down the games and get focused. As for women, they're just as silly as you. They're just as afraid as anyone else, they're just people. If you like a girl, tell her. If you like poetry, write it. If you have problems that keep you from living a "normal" life, so what? All you have to do is accept it, make the most of it, and go for what you want regardless. Some people are born rich, and never have to work, and they get whatever they want and are well respected. You're not fucked up, the world is fucked up. I complain all the time, a writer can complain as much as he or she wants. But I always try to do what I want. If I fail, I might bitch and moan and fall apart, but that's what most people do if you look around. Most of what you see is people wearing masks, and defending themselves from their own fears. You just don't know how to make a mask for yourself, I don't either. But here I am. I got shot down by a sexy librarian earlier tonight. But here I am. And next time I go to the library, I'm going to leer at that sexy librarian all the same. I might even write a poem about it.
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Just to add some more to this. As Billy said in a way, the writter doesn't get a say in what the reader sees. So if you want us to see something you have to put it there
Just to add, I liked this because I am very visual in my mind, and I could fill in the blanks and write the images myself, which I quite enjoyed.
But I should have added, that the poem itself fails to do this.
That is my bad, and I apologise
Also to add, when I first read this I got the impression the writer was older lets say. But now I feel you maybe quite young. I hope my presumption is not offencive.
Here I don't know if you have ever read this poem, but it is one of my favorite (if by rudyard kipling)
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I am glad that no one has come out saying "thats not a poem, it doesnt even rhyme!"
One of my favorite poets was john milton, and he was reportedly blind when he dictated paradise lost. Even so, i can see that golem holding that dart, or his outline at least and some features.
I do want to, sometime, do a series of artwork on that epic poem, it has many scenes in it and alot of mythological references to populate it with.
There is a form of measure in his works, and pace, but i think he was one of the first to write poetry that didnt rhyme.
Instead of looking for sappy words that rhyme, i could look for more descriptive words to use.
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(12-28-2012, 11:18 AM)smakpopy Wrote: (12-28-2012, 10:30 AM)tectak Wrote: Can I pre-empt my crit? I have a limited ability, and an even less desire, to interpret the peregrinations of the disconnected PERSONAL thought of posters who by their very audacity (in as good a way as you care to understand this word) wish for no criticism. OK.....once that is clear I find myself in a dilemma.......you see, the merit in this sort of piece is that it exudes something from the writer......rage, sadness, bitternes, hopelessness etc but what it does not do is CREATE anything which can be evaluated by a third person. I should now say I give up and shut up....,.but that is not constructive in any way. So....I have read the words. They mean nothing to me....why should they? They are the random thoughts of a writer who by deliberately NOT making any attempt to poeticise the work loses the right to be criticised in any framework I am aware of......and that is unarguably the intention of the writer. So be it....it is a nice list. Use the backbone which you have created with your words and write a poem around it. Flesh it out. Give me information. Show me images. Make me believe. Write me a poem. How hard can it be?
Best,
tectak
I could take, like you said a list, and then form more detailed scenes with imagery around each, or try.
First in this revision i have broken it up and added more punctuation so that when read it has the speed, starts, and stops i feel it should be read in, or close to it.
To expand on it, or totally rewrite it will take me a little longer, and since i have nothing but time i will do it. There is little else i feel as stongly about, since love, or a form of love is tied into this more than many other...Tragedies i have been involved in.
Good.
tectak
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(12-28-2012, 11:04 AM)smakpopy Wrote: (12-28-2012, 08:15 AM)billy Wrote: in general we don't need a poet to defend their work. usually poetry like anything creative is indefensible
I had not really intended or wanted to try explain it in detail, but since i have put it up for criticism i dont mind doing so.
Dont look at any of this as defensive, it just is.
I had grown up in an upper middle class area of white suburbia, on a hill with plenty of evergreen trees.
The gradeschool i attended was wildwood elementary, and the church i attended was celebration lutheran church.
I had only 2 or 3 friends who lived nearby, the area our house was in had nice big secluded lots with plenty of trees and space around.
Not that i didnt have neighbors i just didnt know alot of them.
Since preschool i had developed a tendancy to be upset when i was with more than one other child, at least thats what i am told.
At any rate, i was a very good boy, meaning i showed good morals, respect, and when i started the 1st grade i was astonished to find gangs of 3 or more boys going around the playground calling other kids names or doing dirty tricks on them, spitting, whatever.
It did not help that i was a head taller than most of the boys my age, not that being tall is bad, but being different was and likely is bad in the eyes of kids like that.
I was also able to absorb everything i was taught in class and regurgitate it at will, so i was the first to raise my hand, and if none of the other kids could answer a teachers question i was the one everyone turned to, to hear it.
i also had a natural talent for drawing, once i had drawn my pet cat when i was like 6 or 8 years old with pencil on paper, and by using alot of light strokes of the pencil with more defined lines at spots i was able to depict my sleeping cat as i layed a foot away infront of him. It was like a picture.
And later, i had made a valentine, i had found an anatomical picture of a heart and then drew it on the card and gave it to my mom. that was either before puberty or after i had given up on lisa, and ultimately all girls. i forget.
anyway im skipping alot but by the 3rd grade i had taken alot of notice of girls and women, i was hot for my 3rd grade teacher ms norby, but i was too good a kid to even consider it aloud. all that ended when she got married to wiederspan.
Around the same time, i had noticed the girls starting to mature, and of them all i thought lisa was the most perfect, visually anyway.
She was not skinny or fat, not tall, she had brown hair and wore her bangs a certain way in the front, and it was slightly curled, mostly straight hair but some slight twist to it where it hung down to her shoulders.
She had a southern accent, but because of the way boys and girls were kept apart if not by teachers then by peer conformity, i had little chance to speak with her.
that reminds me of the first day i went to school on the bus in kindergarten or 1st grade, i had gotten on the bus and the first spot i saw with room was like the 4th bench on the left, there was a little blond girl sitting by the window and i sat next to her.
The whole bus went oooOOOOoooo, most likely started by some of the older kids who wouldnt have it in them to even sit by a girl since they know "better".
Anyway, i started to just flat out stare by the 3rd grade and 4th grade. I would try to catch looks at lisa when she wasnt noticing, and glance away shy if she noticed while paying attention to her reactions.
The few times i tried to talk to her she got exasperated and went off with other girls on the playground, they must have been saying alot to her or about her because i was not totally hiding my interest in her.
I dont know why she never would talk with me, i guess it may have had to do with the fact i was somewhat of an outcast on the playground among the guys since i just walked around the track until the bell rang ending recess.
i would walk around it and just look at the ground a dozen feet ahead, it got to be a habit of looking down so much that i wonder if it contributed to my slight nearsightedness today.
I did one day write down how i felt about her on a note and used small tears and folds to make it look like a solid letter. Today i couldnt remember what i wrote exactly on it.
One day i tried a few times to get her to take it at school, at the end of the day on the bus home i couldnt stand it anymore and just dropped it in her lap over her shoulder from the seat behind, she got up and left it on the seat, i snatched it up and got off the bus since it was my stop, and i went home and cried hard.
From then on, i looked but didnt speak much, i went to school but didnt try hard in class, after a short time i just stopped going to church, and i started to spend more time playing video games like nintendo, computer games, reading fantasy books, watching movies and tv.
i was basically waiting, and hoping that somehow i would end up married and happy, if not with lisa then someone. But i never did anything that could even start a friendship, and since i was lumped in with the nerds, fat kids, and alternative types by jr high, i wasnt ever approached by anyone else for friendship.
£
I started skipping so many days in school that my senior year i was suspended during the final semester for non attendance, i didnt want the stigma of a 2nd year senior so i didnt go back, i just got a ged at a comm collage easily.
After that, i didnt do much, i stayed at home, sometimes i would get kicked out as they tried to make me work, once i was forced into going to collage or going homeless so i got a telecom degree. Once on a whim i went fishing in alaska and made alot of money quick, but other than that i just didnt work much, a handful of jobs and never more than 3 or 4 months at a time.
By the time i would have graduated from high school i didnt think much about lisa, there were other girls i adored but did and said nothing.
It may be my fear of rejection has forced me to live a life where fears are removed, i dont have to work, i dont have to worry about rent or food and i can continue doing my diversions of computer gaming movies and such.
but on the other hand i have so little. Compared to others i have nothing, and when im gone no one will remember me for long or with any great regret over my death.
In fact most people would say based on what i do, take, and give, im more of a parasite in the way i survive. Its what i do not do that really defines me.
So if as the first review talked about, this poem evokes a feeling of utter and complete loss, then i suppose in that way it is a success.
Question i got to ask myself is: Why share the writings of loss? Is it to make others feel worse? Is it to make others feel better at my expense? Does it make me feel better to let others know i have silently suffered most of my life?
Or is this just some complicated way for a virgin to fail at snaring a ***** to play with, that will fail? Now that's more like it! This carries the banner of poetic endeavour into my territory. One hell of an edit! How could you bear to deconstruct this into that emaciated effort you originally posted is a mystery. You now have the advantage that truth brings to a poet. My only regret us that this will be a one- off . That's the trouble with truth.
Tighten up the punctuation, wack in a couple of debatable end ryhmes and this is commitment verse as good as it gets. Yes, yes I know the cry CYNIC will go up.....but I am making a seious point. If you want to deliver a message....why obfuscate it's meaning? I cannot ***** to ***** so please fill in the missing word in the last line.....go on, you know you want to. Please see my secretary on your way out and make your next appointment.
Well done.
tectak
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sorry i got back to this late. 1st off, great edit. you elevated the original poem by a myriad of levels. one thing i noticed are the 'tenses' i could not
transitions to i see instead of i saw
(12-27-2012, 02:51 PM)smakpopy Wrote: Lisa,
her name was Lisa Clement...
I could not even speak...
Transfixed,
I see her...
Soak in every detail...
She knows...
They talk, they whisper.
She smiles and plays, with the girls... this line stands out as being very powerful, it works on more than one level and feels to be a little resentful of more than the statement. it feels accusatory, she won't go out with me cos she's a lesbian. okay, okay, maybe not but it can be interpreted that way and that only adds to the thing.
I walk in the track, [on the track, or in the tracks]
alone...
I see down,
The ground before me...
Silence.
NO Evil Names...this and the line above do little for the poem (for me)
they,
the boys play games...
tricks on eachother. each other
Different, tall, Quiet, Well mannered...
teachers pet...
I care not.
I walk on the track,
Alone...
I see down,
the ground before me...
the bell Rings.
Class...
Lisa,
Sitting near...
the same room.
Girls...
Shapes...
I close my eyes...
Wonder...
Whats down there..? what's
I am a man...
They are women,
young still...
Treated like pets.
NO.
NO.
NO!
you cannot,
you must not,
we will not allow! now i get this part. and the next.
Morals...
church...
I was a child...
teachings of god...
Impossible Things...
Dream...
Love,
The Garden of Eden...
Gone.
Is it..?
Why,
Why cant i have lisa...?
LISA HAVE ME!
Note...
My soul on paper...
What did i write...?
forgotten...
Sealed love letter...
ON the bus Home, why ON and not on or On?
Offer...
take..?
No.
Drop on lap...
Runs.
snatch up,
Run Home...
Walk..?
Cry...
All night...
God..?
Somehow,
If I just wait...
End up happily Married...
Nothing.
I care not.
God is good, and just...
I know I am good...
Reward?
Next life...?
No.
In heaven...?
Surely I wait.
Cry hard...
Lost.
I walk on the track,
alone...
I see down,
The ground before me...
Silence.
Respect,
See other girls...
Say...
Do...
Nothing.
I wait.
Lisa?
Only one.
Soul mate..?
Losing,
time...
youth...
money...
physically...
Not the man I was.
So much potential...
Lost.
Prison...
Mind...
Diversion...
What do I Want..?
Now?
Money..?
Worthless.
things..?
Small...
House..?
Cabin..?
Wait...
Die. excellent edit. now it clear, the pain the church values, the morality or lack of it they teach us, how dirty we or it is. i think you did the first part or the poem the better service with the edit and wish you could have been a forceful in the 2nd part. but to get what have so far, from what you had is surprisingly good. i wasn't expecting the bravery of a large edit.
i wasn't a lover of the .....'s but that's just me
thanks for the effort and the read.
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(12-29-2012, 09:16 AM)billy Wrote: sorry i got back to this late. 1st off, great edit. you elevated the original poem by a myriad of levels. one thing i noticed are the 'tenses' i could not
transitions to i see instead of i saw
excellent edit. now it clear, the pain the church values, the morality or lack of it they teach us, how dirty we or it is. i think you did the first part or the poem the better service with the edit and wish you could have been a forceful in the 2nd part. but to get what have so far, from what you had is surprisingly good. i wasn't expecting the bravery of a large edit.
i wasn't a lover of the .....'s but that's just me
thanks for the effort and the read.
I fixed some of the problems you found, and i will take another look at the latter half, i may end up rewriting the whole thing to incorperate more of the larger story, or just define what i have here now.
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