zodiac
replying on I could rule myself by fevriere
7 Mar 2004, 4:10 AM
I'm fine with ouvreture (or whatever.)
*grumbles* It was French.. *grumbles*
But I appreciate the "December does not close".
kinda funny
it's nice
She is not a she anyway. She is a what. A thing for others to gawk at for the rest of their miserable little existences!!!
what the hell is taking god so long.?
I mean you are too good at poetry to waste your time or talents here. I hope this finds its way into the chipper where it belongs.(the poem) I am a "part time" poet. Do I need a black and yellow label? HEY ZZINNIA!! Make warning labels besides the wing things!!!!!
There are two people referring to she in this. The syntax does not always make clear which is which.
Like lower jaw inside her upper jaw.
The first line makes less than no sense. I don't just mean in its relation to the rest of the poem, although in that department it is sorely lacking. But in a pure semantic sense as well. "I would. Die for you. r Sins I lo. Veyou All." It's like a foreign language. This poem would be a lot better without it. Stick with dirty backcountry semi-primates and their confused bits of wisdom.
ouverture should be overture - oevreture isn't either, shame.
'my lungs swell with a lipstick coloured fruit' - I do not know of any arctic purple coloured fruits. Also you lungs swell with a fruit???!
'my hips whitely overflow' - your hips overflow in a whitely manner? maybe a comma after whitely.
'metamorphosing maggot' - what does a maggot metamorphose into?
'december doesn't close' how about 'life, short and inflexible/december does not close.'
What do you mean? I see you changed the ending already. I'm sure -=Dark_Angel=- will be ecstatic. I, however, am not.
I know that p/r is not a high wire act with an acrobatic sideshow for poets, so why are you here with us jugulars? jugglers.
Odd. The conversation makes a bit more sense of it. But odd. I think I want more about the elderly couple, their interaction with her (if they were there with her, or if they just were all sitting at the same table). How old is she?
Hmm.
Well now we now what came first, the chicken or the egg? uranus.
Jumpy, and bop.
re: 'why can't those sentences stand alone, grammatically' They can, but you had "My cry is a rose my land floods..." If you're going to punctuate, you can't count on a line-end being read as a stop.
re: "I wasn't planning on an answer...that's the whole point of it..." Of course it is. And the whole point of seatbelt-extenders is to allow hideously fat people to ride safely in cars and planes, but that doesn't mean they're not stupid (the seatbelt-extenders, not the... never mind.)
Second, um, like, YEAH whatever God there is must allow terrible things to happen to good people, even on Sundays. There's not going to be a single person reading your poem for whom this isn't a pretty mundane already-thought line-of-thought. You might pride yourself then on the universality of your oh-so-cleverly-expressed sentiments, but you probably shouldn't.
Third, do you notice how practically every line in your poem ends with a comma or period (and the one that doesn't, should)? Well, don't do that anymore. In my experience, that comes from not being able to write poetry more than one line at a time (same with the AABB,) which is a complete crock of shit. Amateur hack internet poets write
'Let's go down to the Gentleman's Club.'
And that's it. They don't really have a plan to finish out the rhyme, so they start thinking of words: scrub, cub, nub, shrub, stub... Stub works, maybe. They get another line
'You pay and the ticket-man gives you a stub.'
This is like pulling teeth to read. Each line is its own clause, which means no clause can be longer than, say, ten syllables unless you're CLS or a fucking idiot. The rhythm's shot, there's practically no connection between lines, couplets, verses or anything. You've got to have a plan, and something that holds it together, like:
Let's go down to the Gentleman's Club
Where the toiletbowl always flushes,
And the girls all smell like a drain and scrub
Their cunnies with toilet brushes.
See? Unity. Interesting rhymes. A sense of each line building on the previous. Sex. Okay, despite the fact that it's about toilet brushes, can you see how that's a more structurally interesting quatrain than anything in your poem? Yes? No? More?
Stop giving me 10s for imperfect poems! I'd prefer your honest 9 for after modifications.
-operastar just became a word. So ner.
-why can't those sentences stand alone, grammatically? (This is a genuine question).
-damn, you're right for once
-"December doesn't close" - I am satisfied with this. It is meant to mean "December isn't the end", "December doesn't mean that life is over - winter's not finished, and after winter cometh spring".
- no comma is needed after "operastar", which I hope you know isn't a word.
- You missed a comma or something after "rose".
- "metamorphosising" should be "metamorphosing".
- "December doesn't close.)" And what the hell does that mean, anyway?
Still it's nice to find one here I like.
Sure, you're not going to hurt my feelings or anything. As I said before, I can't improve without knowing what I'm doing wrong. Oh, and I wasn't planning on an answer...that's the whole point of it...
Make this poem talk to almost anybody but God. For one thing, do you think God is going to answer you? For another, do you think He's going to answer you when you speak to Him in that tone of voice? You don't even capitalise His Holy Pronouns!
If you changed this poem so that the first line was:
"I questioned God blah blah blah blah blah," and so on, it would be a 100% improvement. Oh, and make it really rhyme if you're going to use rhyme! Oh, and find some original words to rhyme! That's a difficult thing to ask, because it means reading a bunch of poems and seeing what words they rhyme. You could start by reading all the so-called rhyming poems on this site and avoiding anything they do like the proverbial plague.
More?