Parents

Parents

Vigilant sentinels with their eyes out for danger,
And ignorant sages that overflow with wisdom,
This is what they’re supposed to be,
But not what they desire.

Suffocating guardians gratuitously wielding their swords,
And sanctimonious ministers that preach to their congregation,
This is what they desire.

Crimson stained saviors to their children,
And luminous pure doves to be gazed upon,
This is what they’re supposed to be,
But not what they desire.

Unblemished imperfection to their mediocre creations,
And dazzling lights to be blinded by,
This is what desire.

Embodiments of affection,
Providers of love,

This is what they’re supposed to be,
And this is what they desire.

Oh wow, I really like this. I don't see anything wrong with it. It's so true. And cool. Nice vocab use.

Very different way of describing parents. Its true that parents are supposed to be saviours and role models but they don't desire to be it.
Brill vocab.
Loved it.
Charlotte

Suffocating guardians gratuitously wielding their swords,
And sanctimonious ministers that preach to their congregation

I feel strangled by syllables trying to read that. Read it to yourself out loud and you'll see what I mean, especially the first line.

I like the idea of this poem, but some of your wording is unwieldy and this has negative effects on your rhythm and flow.

However, the first line is pretty damn good. I really like the imagery of parents being "vigilant sentinels".

Wow this is brillaint.
You have used powerful words. It is fantastic.
I like the tounge twister of syllables. I wouldn't have noticed it if Firestarter hadn't mentioned it.
I have nothing bad to say about this poem.

~Ferris AKA Tara~

order--


This reads like you somehow botched a trainwreck. The outpouring of images that lead nowhere, the repetition of "desire" (except, for no apparent reason, at the second to last stanza, where it is interchanged with "love"), the tiring phraseology--all indications that this was hardly an object of your affection.

Maybe, like those before me have said, you've congregated some nice words here. Nice words as they are, they mean nothing to a poet if you can't align them properly, and trust me, you haven't done it here.

Bin this hunk of junk and try again.


Best,
Brad