Reincarnation of the poetry thread

[Vako]

Yes, the past tense of "sh*t".

[korinna5555]

Critique please.. I may be submitting this to my school for a poetry contest..

Green Man

A mighty oak rises in the middle
Of a great, ancient wood.
His gnarled arms stretch up to the sky,
Clothed in a finery of delicate greens.
His grey, wrinkled skin bears scars
From battles with the elements
Over hundreds and hundreds of years.
Deep, winding roots tunnel into dark, moist soil
Grounding the oak to his home.
Knots whirled in bark are his wise eyes,
A hole his unspeaking mouth.
He peers out in silence, always watching.
Green man, guardian.
God of the forest.

~Korinna

[DarkHeartedDemoness]

She wonders where the missing pieces went.
She wants the goddamn picture to be whole.
The laughs ring bells. The ghosts do not pay rent,
Though she lives less a life, without a soul.
The infestation brings no noxious gas,
The broken picture gathers filmy dust.
No lives are ruin'd, save hers, which does not pass.
A picture frame hangs empty with exhaust.
An empty room with ghosts of mem'ries lies,
Containing dreams of pictures not quite whole
Within a girl who laughs without her eyes
As bells laugh, ringing, calling none at all.
She wonders where the missing pieces went,
To dream a picture, perfect, whole, unbent.

[korinna5555]

I like that, DHD.

[DarkHeartedDemoness]

Thanks, korinna! As per your request, here's my critique. Don't take it too bad, I don't mean it harshly, I'm just very honest.

Originally Posted by korinna5555

Green Man

A mighty oak rises in the middle
Of a great, ancient wood.

Sounds like the beginning of a story told to small children so that they'll remember their heritage.

His gnarled arms stretch up to the sky,
Clothed in a finery of delicate greens.

For some reason, the word "finery" sticks out to me. I guess it seems strange in contrast with gnarled?

His grey, wrinkled skin bears scars
From battles with the elements

Elements is ok, but I'd like to see you replace it with a stronger word.

Over hundreds and hundreds of years.
Deep, winding roots tunnel into dark, moist soil

Good imagery

Grounding the oak to his home.
Knots whirled in bark are his wise eyes,

Go with "whorled". It's more botany-sounding, and it means the same thing for your context.

A hole his unspeaking mouth.
He peers out in silence, always watching.

A hole? C'mon, with the beautiful imagery elsewhere, I know you can do better than "a hole".

Green man, guardian.
God of the forest.

Pretty good. I had to dig on most of it for critique, although there were a couple of obvious things. The biggest things, in my opinion, are the "hole", "elements", and "whirled".

[korinna5555]

"Whirled" has been changed to "whorled".
"A hole" is now "a hollow in his trunk".
I can't think of anything besides "elements".....

[DarkHeartedDemoness]

You could make it a metaphor? Something about "by wind's relentless soldiers and rain's harsh artillery"?

[honeythorn]

Ok, I haven't written a poem of any sort since primary shcool, but I have relented today and felt compelled for some reason. This isn't anything serious, I just sort of wrote it on the spur of the moment so to speak. It doesn't have a name.




Bitter sunlight dappled and slashed,
In a serial killer aftermath,
Pale-necked blossoms call for the hot blade's kiss.

The sparrow wings whine,
To the tune of the reaper's scythe,
And the slash-necked blooms shall meet,
In a deadly boneyard tryst.

So pour me a cup of sharpened bitter sun,
And taste the dust of the soft moth wings ,
Like needles upon the tongue,
Whilst the skeleton flowers serenade us as they sing.


Any good? or just shit? I don't make a habit of writing poetry so rythym and rhyming and all that are not something I know much about!

I also did a little illustration below it ( I wrote it in my notebook )

]


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[DarkHeartedDemoness]

Honey-- I'll crit yours if you'll crit mine. Mine's on the page before this one, near the bottom.

[Vako]

Originally Posted by honeythorn

I also did a little illustration below it ( I wrote it in my notebook )

]


.

Love the drawing, like the poem.

[KontanKarite]

I hold you in the palm of my hand, little bird, not in the grip of my fist.
The day your wings feel to take flight, I wont ask questions why.
I know the answers and have always known.
I will enjoy your company until you are gone.

[MollyMac]

Weird, but I love the cadence W^16

[raggedyanne]

a poem about fainting in P.E. (I still don't know why I fainted)

color
drained from my face and my vision
earth
risen up to meet me
light
burning my eyes as I struggle to see
hands
lifting me from my grassy resting place

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by honeythorn

Bitter sunlight dappled and slashed,
In a serial killer aftermath,
Pale-necked blossoms call for the hot blade's kiss.

The sparrow wings whine,
To the tune of the reaper's scythe,
And the slash-necked blooms shall meet,
In a deadly boneyard tryst.

So pour me a cup of sharpened bitter sun,
And taste the dust of the soft moth wings ,
Like needles upon the tongue,
Whilst the skeleton flowers serenade us as they sing.


I also did a little illustration below it ( I wrote it in my notebook )

]

I liked both! You are very creative.

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by KontanKarite

I hold you in the palm of my hand, little bird, not in the grip of my fist.
The day your wings feel to take flight, I wont ask questions why.
I know the answers and have always known.
I will enjoy your company until you are gone.

Reminiscent of haiku. Very nice image.

[MollyMac]

The truth is saying seven syllables
and choking back the rest
knowing what the eighth will bring

Christ, but it's raining. I wait for levees, wait for softer rain, and still waiting for dark and waiting for someone who I should not be waiting for, but he was the only thing worth staring down the time at a broken clock.

A drive to the Convergence
and no man-made lights
humming over the current's sing

Heaven is in the palm of a hand as Elliott would have had it, but hands are idle and in pockets. Heaven is a voice that should never give it away and a voice that they would never ask for it to hold, it should have echoed.

I cannot sit still but I shake
I cannot lay me down
I fidgeted my Heaven to dust.

Penelope would have stared over the Aegean with less faith then I at my Mississippi, but myths that know better benefit from re-telling. No one will sing this ballad unless I write it myself, and the boy at my side hums a tune no ears can hear but leaves can remember.

Undertow breaches land and levee
My blood under the water
in legend will become rust.

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by raggedyanne

a poem about fainting in P.E. (I still don't know why I fainted)

Maybe you are pregnant? Or have iron poor blood. Eat broccoli and tomatoes.
Yum!

[raggedyanne]

Not pregnant (thank god), but iron deficiant and we had just run the mile, then relays, then another mile (goddamn skinhead coach)

[raggedyanne]

Suicide-from the inside out

suicide starts from the inside out
all required is a sliver of doubt
creeps up on you in the middle of the night
me and suicide, all we do is fight
sometimes he winning
occasionaly he's not
he has Jason's eyes, but he has my thoughts
terrified I throw the blame
it bounces back always the same
depression stems from insecurity
in the end it's always me

please critique and comment

[Corpsey]

"Differences and Divisions"

There is no humanity
Without some vainity
Merely a devision
In human equality

Not a soul would like their worth
To be determined at birth
Meekly we invision
Equality on all of Earth

In cities there is none
It can never be undone
For as the poor wail
Some ridicule them in fun

A man's strength has no season
Like tyranny has no reason
Thus a man who makes a sale
Cannot judge another's treason

Yet some try to sustain
This hope, but only in vain
For humanity shall never rule
With equality as it's name

From time, one cannot hide
She is all that does divide
The pauper from the fool
The humble from those with pride

My best poem to date. I hope you like it.

[raggedyanne]

I like it. Very real. I like that you're taking the sugar-coating off the picture most people have about themselves.

[Vako]

Originally Posted by Corpsey

"Differences and Divisions"

My best poem to date. I hope you like it.

I Love it.

[HumanePain]

The sun is wrong
and the sidewalk's bright
this walk is too long
and yet your love cools me.

In gentle colors
you swaddle me
wrapped in peace
how cool I can be
in this consuming blaze.

Here or there
or nowhere
my lips remember
your gentleness
and yielding skin.

Flickering into chaos
hastening to flame
your love cools me
leaving the soul behind
without shame.

[eternalcrimson]

I love it. That gave me a nice tingle inside just reading it.

[CLV]

If suddenly you do not exist,

if suddenly you are not living,

I shall go on living.

I do not dare,

I do not dare to write it,

if you die.

I shall go on living.

Because where a man has no voice,

there, my voice.

Where blacks are beaten,

I can not be dead.

When my brothers go to jail

I shall go with them.

When victory,

not my victory

but the great victory

arrives,

even though I am mute I must speak:

I shall see it come even though I am blind.

No, forgive me.

If you are not living,

if you, beloved, my love,

if you

have died,

all the leaves will fall on my breast,

it will rain upon my soul night and day,

the snow will burn my heart,

I shall walk with cold and fire and death and snow,

my feet will want to march toward where you sleep,

but

I shall go on living,

because you wanted me to be, above all things,

untamable,

and, love, because you know that I am not just one man

but all men.