-=SeTTle=-
on Surpass the Dream by darkhelmet10
26 Oct 2002, 11:32 PM
I'd try to learn to stand on your own two feet before you rely on someone else's.
My poem "Apples are Oranges" is an experiment intended to test the length=high score hypothesis.
you make this sound like a Margaret Mead account of aboriginal courting. Were's the love darling? Paradise indeed. Don't forget to were your seatbelt. Do you read poetry? If so, please tell me who.
First of all I'd like to say congradulations on falling in love for the first time. Your poem is young, considering the source it would be unusual if it weren't. The first rule you need to learn is, Don't tell me, show me. In other words, describe describe describe. To tell or depict. Were where you when you were scared. Lonely. HOW did she help. Literally. Don't make things up tell the truth in nauseating detail. Then you can learn how to transform it into poetry. Your poem is all skeleton. No flesh.
I don't know exactly what your talking about, but I know I like the way you say it. ' A mother is but one' that was the vision I had when I found out I was to be one. Difficult to write about. 'Did not ever prove it through" only works because I know what you're trying to say, but there has to be a better way to say it. The nine men are obscure enought o make me ignore them and move to the next idea. Planks? Suddenly I'm onboard and lost. Try again please. I want this clearer, if you can.
good imagery
i like the line that deepens every year :)
its different 8
its cute .7
cool
Dangit. Aren't any of you cultured? Crimeny... I'll bet half of you don't even know what a smeg head is.
Mental note: Red Dwarf Haikus.
"Rimmer's a smeg head
Bronze Swimming Certificate?
What a total prat."
Well, who dosn't really?
Yes, dear girl, I do have some nerve. I quite agree. And I don't doubt I'd make all my comments to your face, too. What does Christof have to do with any of this? And I'm sure Blade would never hurt me -- he'd only try to rip out my throat, bite out my vocal cords with his plastic fangs and all that. the problem is that he'd fail. Anyway, I shall be vaguely nice: I honestly think that you should not post your poetry. You are apparently too sensitive for it. I don't necessarily think you shouldn't write: but don't show it. It's not up to standards. For starters, get over your problem, with therapy or not. I do believe that writing these things has helped you a lot, 'Daniella' and 'Why?', for example. But as poetry, they are horrendous. I believe you wrote them under the full fling of the emotion, and that rarely makes for good poetry. Or, for that matter, good art. To make an analogy, when both Mozart and Tchaikovsky wrote their most celebratedly depressive and depressed works -- the 'Requiem' and the 'Symphonie Pathetique' respectively -- they were actually in very high spirits. And many of the most sunny works in existence were created during their creator's darkest days. Keep on writing these affairs of yours -- but perhaps when you are over your past you will be able to write about in a way that will not be a mind-boggling annoying stream of inanities. Get over it, then we can talk about how to fix your poems -- right now, I don't think there's any point, among other things because I can't see anything to save them, or very little, and secondly because you are apparently not mature enough to take criticism. For an example of what I mean about your poetry, go read God's Wife's poem 'No Angel Came' and then compare it to your 'Why?' The difference, and the deficiencies of your work, should be immediatedly apparent
Poor her.
Has anyone ever told you that all your poems sound the same?
Oh, and about the poem: making a silly inersion like 'with me he'll be' does not make it poetry. Especially when the rhyme scheme works without the inversion.
I do believe I have stepped onto holy ground. Who could have guessed there were so many angels in the world, and who all wrote poemes? Have these people no imagination, no capability to think of some other name? Or are they merely all so self-aggrandising that they take themselves for things above the human? Pah! And people call me pretentious.
This poem definitely is a tradegy. A great tradegy.
lots of hurting soals on this site, cheer up!!
not exactly a haiku but i guess it works...