Parts of a whole

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One part builder,
One part tool.
One part lovestruck,
Often a fool.

One part smart,
One part dumb.
One part hurt
By down-turned thumb.

One part lazy,
One part obsessed.
One part... no.
I digress.
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. - George Orwell, 1984

Where in the world is Enoch Root?




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will someone please crit this?
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. - George Orwell, 1984

Where in the world is Enoch Root?




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hi! Um... it was pretty good. Except I felt that after I read it, it was somewhere in the middle of something. Also I have no idea what you're trying to describe. The words were ok. but I don't think that whatever you were trying to say came forward. Well I guess that's all. Ok good job

:elephant:
OREGONGIRL




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I agree with the second part of oregongirl's comment. [this time, at least]. The rhymes were kind of cute but it's really hard to tell where you're going. Are you describing yourself? Some character? Is this a recipie for something? -- and why is it one part of everything? usually, as much as things strive for balance, it isn't that way. Different things make up more or less parts of a person; when you cook up food or cook up a story, there are different ratios. What are you describing? Why is it so even?

Try and imply these in the second draft of this poem. It feels like there's a second half [and, possibly a beginning] missing. Clarity is important. Contrary to some belief... just because a poem is difficult doesn't mean its good.




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This sounds like you sat down one day with the intent to write a poem. So you began...

'One part builder', well that sounds interesting enough... but how to make it poetic? I know, add the irony of 'one part tool'! and then the rest of the poem will be cute simplistic rhymes! It's perfect!


.No.
There needs to be a purpose, an idea, an emotion behind every poem. Many good poems have more then one, of these.

Work on your subject, on what you're actually going to say. Then you can worry about rhymes.

true poets have a mastery over language--seemingly random rhymes shows that language has a mastery over you.

(By the way,-- I'm not fool enough to profess myself a 'true poet', so don't go calling me hypocrite :p )
Last edited by whence on Thu May 24, 2007 10:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The good parts of a book may be only something a writer is lucky enough to overhear or it may be the wreck of his whole damn life — and one is as good as the other.
Ernest Hemingway




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It was supposed to be me, but I see what you're all getting at, it is a bit rough...
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. - George Orwell, 1984

Where in the world is Enoch Root?




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That was such a new kind of a poem!
i liked it and the rhythm's cool too.
Calvin : You can't just turn on creativity like a faucet. You have to be in the right mood.
Hobbes : What mood is that?
Calvin : Last-minute panic.




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Really? Thanks!
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. - George Orwell, 1984

Where in the world is Enoch Root?




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The rhymes were cute, but seriously, there actually has to be something described, at least. I can't tell what you're trying to say.




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I was trying to describe me, but i guess I overlooked that nowhere in it does it say that that's who is being described. Prehaps if I changed the title or something...
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. - George Orwell, 1984

Where in the world is Enoch Root?



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