The artist and the surgeon.

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I am not sure about this poem . . . please review
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The surgeon is the artist
and has talent with the blade.
The man with the palette
has nothing on this woman.

He holds up his paint brush
to get a perspective of something,
where as the surgeon just cuts open
and goes straight on in.

Artist they weep if a stroke
is out of place.
The surgeon, she sorts things
and gets everything in to place.

The artist thinks he is worthy
for vain for everyone to see.
Where as the surgeon just smiles
and nods at the praise.

The artist and surgeon will meet one day,
but the artist will yield as he is dying away.
His paintings may last forever more
but on the surgeons day.
He will be begging to live now,
to be kept alive to day.
'I have loved to the point of madness, which for me is the only true way to love'
~Francoise Sagan




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Points 10870
Reviews 318
Hi Retrodisco666. First things first, I'll go through and edit some technical things.

retrodisco666 wrote:The surgeon is the artist
and has talent with the blade.
The man with the palette
has nothing on this woman.


Now, this is confusing. Let me get this straight: the surgeon is a girl and the artist is a boy? The first line here is off-putting. Maybe you could clarify a bit.

retrodisco666 wrote:He holds up his paint brush
to get a perspective of something,
whereas the surgeon just cuts open
and goes straight on in.

Artists they weep if a stroke
is out of place.
The surgeon, she sorts things
and gets everything in to place.


I almost find these two stanzas unpoetical. They're just stating the differences between painters and surgeons, which, if i do say so myself, seem like odd things to compare to each other. Maybe you could work on putting some more imagery and figurative language in here.

retrodisco666 wrote:The artist thinks he is worthy
for vain for everyone to see.
Whereas the surgeon just smiles
and nods at the praise.


Huh? The second line here really confuses me.

retrodisco666 wrote:The artist and surgeon will meet one day,
but the artist will yield as he is dying away.
His paintings may last forever more
but on the surgeon's day,
He will be begging to live now,
to be kept alive today.


The last stanza of this poem was by far the best. It really made the comparison interesting. I'm not sure, however, if this idea should be the subject of a poem. I think the tendency to rhyme makes it a little bit too difficult to go about writing. How about trying this out as some sort of a prose article?

Good work, and keep writing!

- Abigail




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Points 15813
Reviews 213
Hi! SporkPunk here to review your work. :D I'm still new to reviewing poems, so I apologize if any of this is off. :D

I'm not going to go through and reiterate Abigail's corrections; she got all of the technical stuff I could find.

As for the rest, I really like this concept. First stanza, I was kind of confused with the "The surgeon is the artist" line. Because then you speak of the two as separate entities...unless maybe you're referencing schizophrenia? I'm sorry, I didn't understand what you were getting at with that line. The second through fifth stanzas we're kind of rough, not very poetic. I didn't like them much. But your last stanza! That was brilliant! Best part of the poem, certainly.

I think, perhaps if you change the wording a bit and clarify, you can make this a great poem. :]

~Sporks
Grasped by the throat, grasped by the throat. That's how I feel about love. That it's not worth it.

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