An ode to those who dream

Don’t you often wonder of how
those who have been born with the gift of dreams,
are prepared to rip the life God gave them, completely at the seams?

Do you think they’re born with this drive
to strain their fingertips at something others can’t reach,
Is it in their eyes, like that certain chosen pebble on the beach?

But there’s millions of them, if we delve deeper
In fields, on roads, soaring through the mist, reaching miraculous notes,
climbing towards that shot after countless doors slammed down their throats.

As they watch the faces on the hollowing screens,
that their burning hearts so desperately chase after,
even though all around their ears is bawling, bawling laughter.

We try to understand, but I suppose you can’t capture
that solo spark that leaps courageously from the licking fire
In the same way you can’t douse one star’s glowing desire.

So what divides a champion from a joke?
They are the few, whose iron-clad souls forget the ridicule they’ve been told,
tear their heart free from their head, punch and break the mould.

Hey Eimear, thanks for posting in my review thread, let's see what I can offer:

Don’t you often wonder of how
those who have been born with the gift of dreams,
are prepared to rip the life God gave them, completely at the seams?

This was a powerful opening, or at least, in theory. This could be more so, but the idea is there - which says something. Alright, the ending of the final sentence annoys me, I think that the tale would still be told if it weren't there. other than that, not bad.

Do you think they’re born with this drive
to strain their fingertips at something others can’t reach,
Is it in their eyes, like that certain chosen pebble on the beach?

Those two first lines have no punctuation, until 'reach'. Therefore, try and do something with this. The second line I dislike the most. Nice line, but it's suffocating. How about:

'to strain their fingertips like no other,
reaching something only they can.'

As you can tell, I am no great poem, but can see what I mean?

But there’s millions of them, if we delve deeper
In fields, on roads, soaring through the mist, reaching miraculous notes,
climbing towards that shot after countless doors slammed down their throats.

Nice, very nice. However, you have one fatal error. At the moment, it isn't complete--it just says 'but...blah...blah...blah...' When you use 'but' in that form, it implies you are about to say something else, e.g., 'But if you look in a box, you will see you will see something.' Yes? Just expand on it and you make this an even greater stanza.

As they watch the faces on the hollowing screens,
that their burning hearts so desperately chase after,
even though all around their ears is bawling, bawling laughter.

Again, incomplete. As they watch the faces, what happens?

We try to understand, but I suppose you can’t capture
that solo spark that leaps courageously from the licking fire
In the same way you can’t douse one star’s glowing desire.

Lovely, I had no trouble with this one.

So what divides a champion from a joke?
They are the few, whose iron-clad souls forget the ridicule they’ve been told,
tear their heart free from their head, punch and break the mould.

Again, great.

Impressions
To begin with, I thought this would be quite a simple poem. However, aside from the first paragraph which must be more powerful to really capture me, I thought it was a great piece - full of imagery and a wonderful poem.

What I pointed out, is not much to worry about. You must, must must must, not let such similes, strong words etc overpower the fluidity of the poem, which is what destroyed the start for me, remember the rhythm is the skeleton and the imagery is just flesh. Both are needed, but without the bones it will just be a mess.

Good luck,
Mark

Hey, E! Here by request Oh, you like my new avatar?

Okay, then to the poem. I like very much about the lining and construction of the stanzas, the way the second and the third lines rhyme.

But there’s millions of them,

Shouldn't this be "there are"?

countless doors slammed down their throats.

This sounds a little funny, but I guess you just had to make it rhyme. Of course, that shouldn't be an excuse but oh well...

The flow of the third stanza could've been a little better, too. But I overall like this, good job, once again.

D xx

Hey Eimear!

This was an interesting little poem. Your rhetorical question was a clever way to begin and your images really stood out, but the problem was there were too many of them. Pare them down; make them simpler. Only keep the ones that you feel are the most powerful and carry the most symbolic meaning. Prune away everything else with ruthlessness! (I'm sure you're familiar with the rather disturbing phrase "kill your darlings"? Well, go and kill them!)

As Mark points out correctly, your punctuation and syntax (sentence structure) need sorting out. The poem also needs more work on rhythm and flow.

If you sort these things out, this should be a fine piece of work!

7/10

Hello I am GordonRamsayLuver. I am new to this site. I really like your poem especially the rhyme scheme. You kept the same rhyme scheme throughout the poem which was excellent. I really enjoyed reading it.

But I did have a problem with the last paragraph you see

So what divides a champion from a joke?

They are the few, whose iron-clad souls forget the ridicule they’ve been told,

tear their heart free from their head, punch and break the mould.

What is the word "mould" weird looking word. Is it even a real word? lol I don't know because to be honest never even heard it before.

Well Keep On writing See you around.

GRL!!!! GordonRamsay LUver

Eimear wrote:
But there’s millions of them, if we delve deeper
In fields, on roads, soaring through the mist, reaching miraculous notes,
climbing towards that shot after countless doors slammed down their throats.

As they watch the faces on the hollowing screens,
that their burning hearts so desperately chase after,
even though all around their ears is bawling, bawling laughter.

We try to understand, but I suppose you can’t capture
that solo spark that leaps courageously from the licking fire
In the same way you can’t douse one star’s glowing desire.

So what divides a champion from a joke?
They are the few, whose iron-clad souls forget the ridicule they’ve been told,
tear their heart free from their head, punch and break the mould.

this poem is over all excellently done. the stanzas are well done and what adds to the efficiency is not only the voice which shines through it, but also through the way that each stanza is done, using rhyme for the last two lines of each stanza while also leaving the rhyme scheme off of the first lines. the continuation of the questions in each stanza makes the reader, or at least myself, reflect more on the piece and try to think about what it is that you are saying. also the title draws alot of attention to the piece and you did a good job in reflecting the idea of the title throughout the rest of the piece. oh yeah. and i quoted some of my favorite stanzas.

this poem was very well written, nice job!

I loved the structure of it and the rhetorical questions you used in different lines.
your images were really...individual and different.

I'm not entirely sure what else to say...

so let's just leave it at, great poem. and keep writing.

-GC10

Loved it.

The imagery's great, particularly in stanzas 4 and 5, where its somehow vivid and simple at the same time. The concept is nice, and the way you answer yourself at the end gives a great authority to the piece; it's clear you know what you're talking about rather than just babbling aimlessly.

Oh, and this line:

that solo spark that leaps courageously from the licking fire

Don't know why, but it's brilliant, my favourite line of the poem.

I was about to criticise the structure and the rhyme scheme, because it irritated me at first, but after re-reading it its fine. I guess you might have crammed too many words into one line occasionally, but that's all.

Well done, good work, all that jazz.