play melancholy

We sit along blackened brick walls,
playing old records
while broken guitar strings—
[play melancholy]
husky voices singing
into whisky bottles.

As we sit
speaking only
in parables,
tracing our secrets
[whimsical]
In the air with
smoldering cigarettes.

........Even as

We sink ever deeper into
refrain.

[Indifference.]

For this moment
we are more than willing
to abandon our birthrights—
sacrifice our inheritance
and give up our
piece of eternity.

It's gorgeous, but these ending three lines through a lot of odd information at us very quickly. Overwhelming and somewhat confusing. The imagery is astounding, though.

Yeah, the last three lines are slightly confusing because you describe what seems to be hobos (maybe?) and suddenly with the word "birthright" we're thrown into a more civilized world, which is slightly jarring.

Hi Cameron,


Welcome to the forums! I'm sure you've found your way around by now, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask.


As for the poem, I am left thirsting for something more visceral. Granted, I am not without my own proclivities, but I hope this deters your -- for lack of a better word -- blithe use of language. Sophomoric musings are fine, but it's the ink on the page at the end of the day that makes you a poet.

Frankly, this is a disaster--it seems like somebody took a leaf-blower and mangled what might be a nice poem.

Your first stanza, riddled as it is, contributes nothing significant to the poem. Whenever you speak in such few words, it is important that each word build upon the previous. That, obviously, is not happening there. Revise it, or else scratch it.

The second stanza opens well, but after "in parables," you suffer two fatal flaws: (1) you never refer again to this "parable" tongue, and (2) you enter cliche-country. Perhaps a connection between parables and vapors is in order--your call.

I am not certain what off-setting and italicizing the "even as" accomplishes towards conveying a message to the reader.

The bracketed word "lackadaisical" does not belong. Neither, for that matter, does "water". Remember, you started out with reference to sound (first stanza), then you introduced the voice as ephemeral, vaporized (second stanza), but the third stanza comes out of left-field. Either I am not clever enough to catch your meaning, or you need to seriously think about the structure of this piece. I suggest you seriously consider the latter.

The last stanza, however, is where you botch the trainwreck. "my darling" is jarring--it is not clear that this is a love poem, or a poem with necessarily affectionate overtures running through it, from any point before this. You can not introduce the main idea in the last stanza. Further, it is a very difficult technique to master to switch from personal, first-person tense to an impersonal voice (especially when the im-persons have not been identified). "he" shows up without cue, but, apparently, with birthright--inheritance and eternity, even!--, which is nonsensical.

I do not mean to offend, but this is lacking any cogency or cleverness. It has promise, but everything has potential to be beautiful.


All the best,
Brad

Can't you people ever just say whether you liked it or not, and point out grammar or spelling mistakes. Must you slaughter?

I liked the imagery. Twas good.

It was really good. I liked the words in the brackets, they flowed nicely.

the only thing that, seemed kind-of-not-up-to-par was 'playing old records', it seemed kind of cliched. Although, I know that you need it for the rest of the poem to make sense. So, I don't know.