Mistake (rated R)

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The night rushed past
like words exchanged in a court.
The booze kept flowing
and I dunno what I thaught.

From my mid-day tomb
my memory lets me down;
What happened last night?
I cant help but feel that
I acted like a fuckin clown.

Draggin myself up I chuck the pills and H20
Maybe my brain will fill me in
but somehow i think it wont.
Texts keep pouring in like the vodka on the town
'Who was it?'
'Can you remember?'
I feel regret takin over, I text her askin.

No reply.

Next day and i'm back with the lads,
Now I know what i did and i'm not proud.
"Twat", "Tosser", "Think next time?"

As they say time heals.
By the next week
Its only her who stays away,
still treatin me like a freak.

Casually, I walk over and explain;
"Lifes a bitch."
"Get over it."
Last edited by Mars on Tue Sep 01, 2009 9:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Reason: Rated R for language.




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Hi Adameagle! I like this piece, although it doesn't really feel like poetry to me. The informal attitude makes it seem more like lyrics to a rap song or something, but that's just me.




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It seems almost like a rap, but hey, that's poetry for you. Your style is your own; if anyone tells you otherwise, ignore them. No two poets will ever be alike.

One problem: "thaught" is spelled "thought". I don't care too much for the cussing, but you're the poet; it's your words.

I'll look for more later!
"Neglect not the gift that is in thee, which was given thee by prophecy, with the laying on of the hands of the presbytery." Timothy 4:14 KJV




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Wow, this is such a good poem. It's seems like a rap in other's eyes but in yours it's a poem & i'll agree with you. You express emotion in the poem & i actually felt it while i read this poem.
"A writer's work is a treasure, & should'nt be ruin by another but be fix by thyself." - Elizabeth




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Hello I'm Vernon and I'll be your reviewer, now this didn't seem exactly like poetry, but nonetheless it does have poetic elements so agree with rap idea. Now, bit of advice to begin, you should only swear in a poem if it works and makes the poem more powerful.

The night rushed past
like words exchanged in a court.
The booze kept flowing
and I dunno what I thaught.

From my mid-day tomb
my memory lets me down;
What happened last night?
I cant help but feel that
I acted like a fuckin clown.


Take away fuckin' it doesn't add anything here. Not at all, it just seems to be there for the sake of it.

From here on in, you lose the beauty you had with the first part, beauty in how it's so vague. You really should have kept it on.

Draggin myself up I chuck the pills and H20
Maybe my brain will fill me in
but somehow i think it wont.
Texts keep pouring in like the vodka on the town
'Who was it?'
'Can you remember?'
I feel regret takin over, I text her askin.

No reply.

Next day and i'm back with the lads,
Now I know what i did and i'm not proud.
"Twat", "Tosser", "Think next time?"

As they say time heals.
By the next week
Its only her who stays away,
still treatin me like a freak.

Casually, I walk over and explain;
"Lifes a bitch."
"Get over it."


A general rule of thumb in poetry, is show don't tell, you tell us everything, making it seem routine, but it ain't I hope. You need to work on using your other senses at this point, throbbing headache, the smells, what you see? Let the senses you show fill in the picture somewhat, but keep it vague.

Hope this helps.
VSN
We get off to the rhythm of the trigger and destruction. Fallujah to New Orleans with impunity to kill. We are the hidden fist of the free market.
We are the ink, we are the quill.
[The Ink And The Quill (Be Afraid) - Anti-Flag]



Regret has a flavor and it tastes like the espresso I consumed at 9pm.
— SilverNight