Here

Don't know if this counts as poetry or a type of fiction; in any case, have fun with it.

One more moment passes in this heated day,
And you’ve given me shelter once again.
I’ve shied away from much – had to, in fact,
Because I’ve seen too many tragedies go down,
So many failures in my career that I’ve had to
Cut losses and drop back into a hole so I can think.
And as my gaze sweeps the room, clean, bright,
The sun peeping in through the sliver in the curtains,
You keep me here in complete serenity,
And I have yet to forget this.
But I cannot help but wonder,
What you have drawn upon meeting me,
Was I that certain special gentlemen you waited on?
Did I hold the door open enough for you,
Or were my jokes funny enough?
You see me staring, and I feel the sun scorching my heart,
The flames causing me to blush, caught in my youthful act
Harmless as it is, constructed for men who’ve been starved
For far too long, sorely in need of that helping hand.
Your hand has done more than pull me from my hole,
And it has worked wonders as I’ve witnessed
The world’s evolution from a diseased and decaying prison
Into a beautiful maiden that keeps us fed and clothed.
We are alone here, in this little house,
I feel no need to return to my reclusive ways,
Those ways having evolved as well,
Now molded into the properties of hope and desire,
And you have caused them to blossom, with your presence,
As that mine alone could not even budge them.
I approach the glass on the table next to the bed,
And there is the rose I gave you last night.
The red merely a confirmation of my newly-transformed self,
That I am alive indeed, living a world of color and cheer,
Not gray and futile, as I’d once believed.
I hear your soft voice, and I am transfixed.
The rose seems to be speaking as well-
Or is it just an extension of you?
I cannot tell, and I have no care to find out,
Because my story is not about the end,
But about the events that have led to this very moment,
You here with me, and I am finally content.
I have found what I’ve been looking for after all these years.

This belongs in poetry, so it's in the right place. Still, it is one of those pieces that doesn't quite comfortably fit in poetry, but definitely doesn't fit as a short story. Someday, I should probably create a forum for prose.

Anyhow, what I like about this is that it's not pretentious. It is melodramatic in parts, but you don't resort to meter or rhyme, or any other similar poetic techniques. Rather, it is simply told from the point of view of a man who is content and contemplating on what may have led there. Too often, poetry tries to delve for deeper meaning where no such meaning exists, This poem, by contrast, is simple and doesn't purport to be anything more than what it is. Moreover, it works well.

As I mentioned though, it is melodramatic. Some lines seem excessive in their imagery, such as:

Not gray and futile, as I’d once believed.
You see me staring, and I feel the sun scorching my heart,

With the first one I pointed out, I'd just get rid of it; the line before it already implies the contrast without shouting to the reader. The second line can be fixed by removing everything after "staring." Going from staring to the next line about flames is more powerful than going from staring to excessive imagery about the sun scorching the heart.

Ooooo my goodness I love this.

You make me happy inside. Here is why: it's just so freaking beautiful. It's simplistic, and contemplative, and introspective and yet you've done no whining, or selfishness, or anything. You sucked me in right away. I completely adore the way it flows, as well. It's slow, and even in the words and style it seems contemplative. I love the mix between a romance between a man and a woman, and the earth/life become better, happier, more peaceful for someone. It's so interesting, and you don't talk about it, you simply show it, which is something a lot of people don't realize makes good poetry. Amazing. This was my favorite stanza:

You see me staring, and I feel the sun scorching my heart,
The flames causing me to blush, caught in my youthful act
Harmless as it is, constructed for men who’ve been starved
For far too long, sorely in need of that helping hand.

I like the metaphor of her as the sun, and it burns your heart, and then you mix it with blushing, and the rest of it melts into an amazing stanza which makes me happy.

At first I was thinking, this is a long poem, I'm going to hate it. This is because my laziness makes me biased. However, I was COMPLETELY wrong. Every line seems fit, and perhaps you could go through and tighten it up, but I really can't find too many places that deserve complete hacking. There was only one thing I didn't like:

That I am alive indeed, living a world of color and cheer,

You've shown you can show, and so this makes me hate you for using bland adjectives even more. I want something more alive, than "color" and "cheer". You've already explained how the world is good now, and if you feel you haven't done that enough, than show more! But don't tell us, again, that the world has become something better. Especially with adjectives, and telling.

Otherwise? I have no qualms. I love this. I'm getting tired of saying that because it is a boring and meaningless thing to say, but hopefully I told you enough of why I like this! If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

i like it. its nice and rings love. Its nice how it shows how he's changed since she's entered into his life. How the world has changed. and how she affects him. very nice. really love it. it flows over the paper like honey, its very well worded.
-A Friend

Hey there,

This is unbelievably good. I mean unbelievably. Your expression is simply exquisite, particularly in these phrases:

"The sun [is] peeping in through the sliver in the curtains,
You keep me here in complete serenity,
And I have yet to forget this.
But I cannot help but wonder,
What you have drawn upon meeting me,
Was I that certain special gentlemen you waited on? (this should be singular, not plural! sorry.)
Did I hold the door open enough for you,
Or were my jokes funny enough?"

and:

"I approach the glass on the table next to the bed,
And there is the rose I gave you last night.
The red merely a confirmation of my newly-transformed self,
That I am alive indeed, living a world of color and cheer,
Not gray and futile, as I’d once believed.
I hear your soft voice, and I am transfixed."

You beautifully captured the wistful tone of the speaker's mood as he reflects on how his feelings have changed from frustration to contentment. I would have liked to see the sun recur in the final lines, since you used it with such skill in the first half of the piece, to symbolise this change. Perhaps he doesn't mind it as much as he used to? Perhaps he enjoys basking in its full glow as opposed to before?

But this is merely stylistic, and doesn't take away from the power you have instilled in this poem. Really awesome stuff. Well done.



10/10

*stars*