intricate machinations

Once, I drank from spattered heroism.
Lines of nobility splinter like knives
into my skindepths, misting my perception:
bitter yesterdays tear dreams
from reality and death walks so silently.

I learn from intricate machinations;
the brutal torch of instruction,
formulaic falls and highs. Somewhere
there is something special
between the stuttering prose--
scrawled morality, false hope,
ugly beauty. I learn how to fight.

Inspiration seeps into my fingers,
I draw words into my head. Raw art
forged and borrowed from you.
I wish I could have seen your own last stand;
a hero fall white and wordless.

[s]Once,[/s] I drank from spattered heroism.
Lines of nobility splintered like knives
into my skindepths, misting my perception:
[s]then,[/s] bitter yesterdays tore dreams
from reality[s];[/s], [conjunction] death walked so silently.

This is my suggestion for the set-up of the first stanza. I feel starting off with an introductory phrase ruins the entire selective and directed poem. Transitional phrases also seem whimsical. I added the suggestion of a conjunction there just to smooth any choppiness.

falls and highs.

falls and rises? To hold to opposites. Though your word choice, if based on poetic syllable flow, fits best with your oringal choice.

scrawled morality, false hope,
ugly beauty--I learnt how to fight.

I love it - I hate it. Scrawled morality, false hope, ugly beauty: I'm spellbound, honestly. "I learnt how to fight": It's powerful, it's progress, you question if it is heroic. It all ties back into the rest of the poem, which ends beautifully. But where is the transition? You see the underlying meaning - this, I believe, is more of a morale or a motive for the fight, a meaning for you. But to learn to fight I thought there should be more of a how than a why. Everything said beforehand was a why.

Beautifully written - a breathtaking, let's say, "white and worldless" image at the end. I also admire how not once did you mention nobility or honor in the entire ordeal of the poem.

Hmmm, yummy.

First stanza, I'll take out "so." Interrupts a very nice rhythm you have going.

I am a very proud muse.
It's like I told you yesterday, you start a story with eloquence, build emotion throughout, and then end with such a punch that it sticks that emotion right in your readers (er, my) body. It feels very physical. It's lovely.

Thanks for the suggestions, gummy.

And thanks again Misty =)

I love how deep this poem is and it's so well written! This is the sort of piece that I find myself re-reading so that I can give the words a chance to sink in and reveal all their layers of meaning. After the third reading, I can tell you that it's fantastic, has a great flow and is practically flawless but this wouldn't really count as a critique if I didn't have a few comments and suggestions now would it? So here we are...

Once, I drank from spattered heroism.

[Good word choice here. I love your use of 'spattered.']

Lines of nobility splintered like knives

[Knives aren't really splintered. Perhaps splintered by knives?]

formulaic falls and highs. Somewhere

[Perhaps lows rather than 'falls']

there was something special
between the stuttering prose--
scrawled morality, false hope,
ugly beauty--I learnt how to fight.

[This is my favourite part. Your word choice here is perfect and, combined with a good use of punctuation, it's ingenius.]

Also, your ending is really great and basically, keep up the good work!

Hey Jack. ^_^

I may be less than helpful constructively. But I had to make a note -- this was brilliant. You've drawn simply what is so easily stumbled through excessively. And the imagery is deft. The brevity of some of the sentences punctuated especially. ^_^

White and wordless, to echo gummy. I've had a good few minutes, reading and rereading the final stanza. ^_^

I have a question, is learnt really a word. If so I should get out more. Over all I really liked this poem, wish i could do that, but I can learn. Just a few thing that could make it a bit better in my eyes, but maybe not yours or others.

1.) The breaks you put in the lines seem odd to me, some work others don't

formulaic falls and highs. Somewhere
there was something special

Here's an example. I think it would be better with Somewhere starting the next line. Still, I guess I like simple straight forward worded poems. Then again

Lines of nobility splintered like knives
into my skindepths, misting my perception:
then, bitter yesterdays tore dreams
from reality; death walked so silently.

I really liked how you used punctuation to word this so it was all one sentence. You did an awesome job there.

That's about all I got because Kitty and Gum pointed out the other things i saw. Good work and I learned somethings from this so thanks.

Lines of nobility splintered like knives
into my skindepths, misting my perception:

^ I really liked these lines

a hero fall white and wordless.

I wanted to stick an apostrophe "s" after "hero" or hyphenate it. Or put a colon at the end of the previous line because right now, I'm not sure what you're referring to.

Somewhere
there was something special
between the stuttering prose--
scrawled morality, false hope,
ugly beauty--I learnt how to fight.

The "I learnt how to fight" seems randomly tacked on the end to me. Gramatically, within the context of the sentence, anyway. Maybe it could be moved to its own line or its own sentence?

What I like best about this is that it's well written, yet I can still understand it ^_^

Wow, this is a nice poem. Other than getting rid of the conjunctions that other people suggested that you do I have nothing really to say about it. It's deep and it's (to me) written in a semi classical style (1800s to early 1900s). What I really like, though, is that you didn't totally butcher the style by making it incomprehensible buy you still made it so that you have to read over it a couple of times to totally get it. Nice Job.

Thanks for the responses everybody! I'm editing in a new draft right now.

Jack,


I like this overall, but certain things keep nagging at the back of my skull. For instance, L3S1 is particularly atrocious with its clunkiness. Dreams being ripped from reality is likewise too heavy-handed for my tastes. "ugly beauty" also is a warning flag (call me fanciful, but I might prefer something more akin to "British beauty" or some specific locale where machinations prevail). Lastly, you might consider converting this to the present tense. I don't see how the past is doing anything but making this passive and un-engaging.

All that aside, your ideas, save a few rough spots, are working nicely.


Best,
Brad

Well, you wanted it, you got it!

Once, I drank from spattered heroism.
Lines of nobility splintered like knives
into my skindepths, misting my perception:
then, bitter yesterdays tore dreams
from reality; death walked so silently.

I learnt from intricate machinations;
the brutal torch of instruction,
formulaic falls and highs. Somewhere
there was something special
between the stuttering prose--
scrawled morality, false hope,
ugly beauty--I learnt how to fight.

Inspiration seeped into my fingers,
I drew words into my head. Raw art
forged and borrowed from you.
I wish I could have seen your own last stand;
a hero fall white and wordless.

I enjoyed this very much. One suggestion: lose/replace "Inspiration seeps into my fingers". It's overused and out of place in a poem that prides itself on new insights.

I saw this when you first posted it, but it needed to sink in, and I've come back to read it and am even more amazing.

I think fall should be falls, but Kitty said that. I look forward to seeing the new draft. ^_^ Really, all I can say is: it gives me shivers.