on the occasion i do read poetry, it's good to know the contents of this one gives justification to a rather working title.
the end of the stanzas seem somewhat tired.
"when i escaped the chamber of mirrors" - this seems rather as-a-matter-of-fact, as if it were something one does every other day, though i know you used carnival previously. Using 'chamber of mirrors' perhaps in a more ethereal situation, or perhaps approaching it a little differently, would give the idea a little believability.
The fourth was kind of over-worded, as if you've got too much to say about something, and poetry should be relatively intricate through being simple and quaint, if you use it well. Sometimes less is more.
Overall, it seemed a little scattered, but a good piece. I don't write poetry anymore, but from what I remember of doing it, I'm guessing you wrote this quickly.
"but I see now that my eyes are the most honest part of my body." this was good. it's better to work on a piece you like by taking a good line you like in it, and figuring out where you were when you wrote it, because quite often it leads one off into improving something that is still in the position to be.
"Meanwhile everyone wants to breathe and nobody can; and many say, 'We will breathe later.' And most of them don’t die because they are already dead." -- Graffiti of the events of May, Paris '68
your poems are so different from each other. it didn't used to be this way...they used to be like, all together they told a story like that time you put all those grant poems together.
i liked this poem, it seemed a little melancholy to me, but it was still enjoyable and not cliche. i didn't get this line though:
I liked the poem. It's very honest; it looks very closely at past misconceptions and details change over a period of time.
One line struck me as having slightly mixed imagery:
"contour to my otherwise bland existence."
Contour creates images of three-dimensions in my mind (as opposed to 2D) whereas bland seems more like an absence of colour. The two don't seem to fit quite perfectly. That's just a very minor point though.
Great poem.
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.
I like the word "meloncholy" to describe this poem. I think this is my favorite of yours that I've read. It's real, and has a sort of pretty honesty to it. It's honest, but not blunt and unattractive.
"And I am a writer
writer of fiction
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones...
Let me go if you don't love me" ~The Decembrists "Engine Driver"
What kinda boy are you?
I actually sort of understood this more than any of your other strange poems...
Jesus...
"When I escaped from the chamber of mirrors,
breathed in fresh air and heard the sounds
of summer, I woke up, and I noticed
that I have changed so much since two years ago,
when suicidal journals were the rage and
girlfriends in august meant class."
That reigns ture in my case, only replace girlfriend with boyfriend.
Exellent job Brad... it's sad to think one day, you'll die before me... *randomess belongs in the random fourm thank you...*
I liked it and agree that it is a very honest poem. This was my favorite part:For so long
I have been trapped in
the carnival of unhappy endings, riding
the tears-go-round and noting that it hasn’t rained
in some time. So when I tasted the first drops of
melodrama I learned to like the way
they splashed against my words and added
contour to my otherwise bland existence.
Good job!
Quarrels would not last long if the fault were only on one side.
--La Rochedoucauld
"An unexamined life is not worth living..."
---Socraties
