Never Alone in Heaven

I'm not afraid of death,
And I'm not afraid to live
Like tomorrow's never coming.
And I have so much to give.

Eyebrows knit together,
And biting my fingernails.
I'm burnt and I'm bruised,
But I know I can't fail

To paint a broad smile
On my pale face.
Because there's bliss;
Aren't I an odd case?

I know my number's up,
And I know I'm defying gravity.
Clumsy me, falling on my face;
Oh no! 'Tis the latest travesty.

I've got two feet in the dirt,
And one hand on the sky.
Today's not going anywhere,
If tomorrow's the day I die.

Everyday, lives are taken,
And people die with grins.
Don't we owe it to ourselves
To let the number win?

And if the number's truly up,
Mine will surely come.
I'll meet Grampa in heaven,
If I'm dead, but not done.

Tell Mom I love her,
And tell Daddy he's great.
They'll all come here one day.
It's that tricky thing called fate.

And when I'm in the clouds,
And shaking God's hand,
Tell my brother I'm sorry.
I'm sure he'll understand.

When I meet Mother Mary,
When I'm seeing Jesus,
I'll tell them it's been a fun ride,
But the world won't believe us.

Because they have their fears,
And, yes, I had my own.
We all need to lighten up,
To know we're not alone.

When God's hand repaints the sky,
And the day's replaced by night,
We'll tell them the world's beautiful,
And it's such a lovely sight.

Hey there EP! Stella here!

Okay, I'm still getting over my fear of poetry, so be patient, won't you?

Eyebrows knit together,
And biting my fingernails.
I'm burnt and I'm bruised,
But I know I can't fail

Why are they burnt and bruised? It's a very pretty image actually, although it doesn't quite go with the rhythm. Play with it a while.

To paint a broad smile
On my pale face.
Because there's bliss;
Aren't I an odd case?

Again, play around with it and get the rhythm just right.

Oh no! 'Tis the latest travesty.

Uh... 'tis? I use 'tis sometimes as kind of spoof chat-speak or whatever, but it doesn't really go here.

I've got two feet in the dirt,
And one hand on the sky.

That's beautiful.

If I'm dead, but not done.

I'd shove an extra syllable in here.

And when I'm in the clouds,
And shaking God's hand,

another syllable needed in that second line.

When God's hand repaints the sky,
And the day's replaced by night,
We'll tell them the world's beautiful,
And it's such a lovely sight.

I absolutely adore that last stanza, it's lovely.

Overall I like this. The rhyme means that it flows. I would just add in or take out some syllables to make it run better. But you have some lovely images here and I really enjoyed it. The only thing is is that I'm not quite sure if the person is actually dying tomorrow or if they're just saying "just in case." I'd make it clearer.

Hope I helped and PM me if you have any questions!

-Stella.

Thank you! Yep, I'll play around with the rhythm (I never was good at that). And it's "just in case".

Explosive_Pen wrote:I'm not afraid of death,
And I'm not afraid to live
Like tomorrow's never coming.
And I have so much to give.

Eyebrows knit together,
And biting my fingernails.
I'm burnt and I'm bruised,
But I know I can't fail

To paint a broad smile
On my pale face.
Because there's bliss;
Aren't I an odd case?

I know my number's up,
And I know I'm defying gravity.
Clumsy me, falling on my face;
Oh no! 'Tis the latest travesty.

I've got two feet in the dirt,
And one hand on the sky.
Today's not going anywhere,
If tomorrow's the day I die. These stanzas don't have much rhythm.

Everyday, lives are taken,
And people die with grins.
Don't we owe it to ourselves
To let the number win?

And if the number's truly up,
Mine will surely come.
I'll meet Grampa in heaven,
If I'm dead, but not done. (no rhythm here.)

Tell Mom I love her,
And tell Daddy he's great.
They'll all come here one day.
It's that tricky thing called fate.

And when I'm in the clouds,
And shaking God's hand,
Tell my brother I'm sorry.
I'm sure he'll understand.

When I meet Mother Mary,
When I'm seeing Jesus,
I'll tell them it's been a fun ride,
But the world won't believe us.

Because they have their fears,
And, yes, I had my own.
We all need to lighten up,
To know we're not alone.

When God's hand repaints the sky,
And the day's replaced by night,
We'll tell them the world's beautiful,
And it's such a lovely sight.

(in the last four stanzas your rhythm was great.

I love your use of words and the message of the poem. Just rhythm. A little touch of melody to your great poetry.

Hey there!


This was certainly my favorite stanza:

When God's hand repaints the sky,
And the day's replaced by night,
We'll tell them the world's beautiful,
And it's such a lovely sight.

I love the imagery of God repainting the sky, although I don't know why day would be replaced by night? Wouldn't it be the other way? Or are you symbolizing death? I took it as a symbol of the end of the world.

I think you have an interesting idea on your hands, but it's all about execution. Your theme is "It's okay that we die, we'll go out with grace and do it right and have fun because it's going to happen anyway" but instead of showing this or expressing the emotions of it, you just talk about it a lot and it gets to the point where you're being redundant, and I stop caring. You talk a lot about how it's OK - but you need not say this more than once. I think the way you write this poem really doomed it since it is all telling. Can you show this idea? Just talking to the reader is fine, but you still need to captivate me and interest me. Instead of saying "I'm not afraid of death and I'm not afraid to live every day to the fullest" show this somehow. Telling is so boring - I want to see!

I know that's not an awful lot of advice, but it's the biggest problem with the poem. Like I said, your last stanza had some wonderful imagery! Otherwise it was just telling. If you have any questions feel free to message me. Best of luck!

Very very nice! Just a few things though...

Explosive_Pen wrote:Eyebrows knit together,
And biting my fingernails.
I'm burnt and I'm bruised,
But I know I can't fail

Good imagery... but do you care to elaborate on that? I think this was mentioned before, but it'd be really nice to get a clear picture on what exactly you are speaking of.

Explosive_Pen wrote:To paint a broad smile
On my pale face.
Because there's bliss;
Aren't I an odd case?

Again, beautiful imagery. Love those first two lines.

Explosive_Pen wrote:I know my number's up,
And I know I'm defying gravity.
Clumsy me, falling on my face;
Oh no! 'Tis the latest travesty.

Hmmm... "'Tis the latest travesty." I see what you're trying to do here, but in my opinion, it doesn't really fit. Also, kinda sounds like there are too many syllables in that line, don't ya think?

Explosive_Pen wrote:I've got two feet in the dirt,
And one hand on the sky.
Today's not going anywhere,
If tomorrow's the day I die.

As opposed to others, this is my favorite stanza. Makes me think about my life.

Explosive_Pen wrote:And when I'm in the clouds,
And shaking God's hand,
Tell my brother I'm sorry.
I'm sure he'll understand.

Interesting... what exactly do you mean by telling your brother you're sorry and that you're sure he'll understand? Elaborate, please!

Explosive_Pen wrote:Because they have their fears,
And, yes, I had my own.
We all need to lighten up,
To know we're not alone.

Second fave stanza.

Explosive_Pen wrote:When God's hand repaints the sky,
And the day's replaced by night,
We'll tell them the world's beautiful,
And it's such a lovely sight.

Great ending.

Well, I must say that this is one well-written poem. You have nice imagery, and good word choice. Your rhythm, to me, is just right. I know quite a few are saying that it's irregular, but to me, it fits perfectly. If you wanna change it, go ahead... but just to let you know, I think it fits.

*star*

~LIF

Alrighty, so I decided I should save this poem, and here's the result:


I'm not afraid of death,
And I'm not afraid to live
Like tomorrow's never coming.
And I have so much to give. (Didn't see rhythm problems here, so no change.)

Eyebrows knit together,
And biting my fingernails.
I'm burnt and I'm bruised; (People said to elaborate on this, so let's see what I can do.)
I've tried to fly, but I've failed. (Right number of syllables; I think it works.)

Painting a broad smile
On my pale face.
Because there's bliss;
Aren't I an odd case?

I know that my number's up, (Mention of awkwardness here, so let's see...)
And I know I'm defying gravity.
Clumsy me, falling on my face;
I've caused a new tragedy. (Not a total fix... Feel free to tear it apart.)

I've got two feet in the dirt,
And one hand on the sky.
Today's not going anywhere,
If tomorrow's the day I die.

Everyday, lives are taken,
And people die with grins.
Don't we owe it to ourselves
To let the number win?

And if the number's truly up,
Mine will surely come.
I'll meet Grampa in heaven,
If I'm dead, but never done.

Tell Mom I love her,
And tell Daddy he's great.
They'll all come here one day.
It's that tricky thing called fate.

Daddy was always awkward
And Mom tended to annoy.
But love surpasses these things;
Adoration is no toy. (I decided to shove another stanza in here. The last line's a bit short, but it's got the right number of syllables, so why not?)

And when I'm in the clouds,
And shaking my God's hand,
Tell my brother I'm sorry.
I'm sure he'll understand

That the three years we had gone
Without speaking were wasted time;
He, consumed with technology,
And me, obsessed with all my rhymes. (Another stanza shove. I was asked to explain, so I think that did the trick.)

When I meet Mother Mary,
When I'm seeing Jesus,
I'll tell them it's been a fun ride,
But the world won't believe us.

Because they have their fears,
And, yes, I had my own.
We all need to lighten up,
To know we're not alone.

When God's hand repaints the sky,
And the day's replaced by night,
We'll tell them the world's beautiful,
And it's such a lovely sight.


Alright, I did what I could. That's the fixed version, but rip it apart and I'll be glad to fix it again.

Good job, Explosive_Pen! The second poem is much better. Still a few changes here and there, though.

I'm not afraid of death,
And I'm not afraid to live
Like tomorrow's never coming.
And I have so much to give.

Eyebrows knit together,
And biting my fingernails.
I'm burnt and I'm bruised;
I've tried to fly, but I've failed. Take out the I've. It will rhyme better.

Painting a broad smile
On my pale face.
Because there's bliss;
Aren't I an odd case?

I know that my number's up,
And I know I'm defying gravity.
Clumsy me, falling on my face;
I've caused a new tragedy.

I've got two feet in the dirt,
And one hand on the sky.
Today's not going anywhere,
If tomorrow's the day I die.

Everyday, lives are taken,
And people die with grins.
Don't we owe it to ourselves
To let the number win?

And if the number's truly up,
Mine will surely come.
I'll meet Grampa in heaven, Grandpa
If I'm dead, but never done. I don't really get this line.

Tell Mom I love her,
And tell Daddy he's great.
They'll all come here one day.
It's that tricky thing called fate.

Daddy was always awkward
And Mom tended to annoy.
But love surpasses these things;
Adoration is no toy.

And when I'm in the clouds,
And shaking my God's hand,
Tell my brother I'm sorry.
I'm sure he'll understand

That the three years we had gone
Without speaking were wasted time; Take out were.
He, consumed with technology,
And me, obsessed with all my rhymes. This sentence doesn't seem to rhyme.
Try working on this stanza. It is a little confusing.

When I meet Mother Mary,
When I'm seeing Jesus,
I'll tell them it's been a fun ride,
But the world won't believe us.

Because they have their fears,
And, yes, I had my own.
We all need to lighten up,
To know we're not alone.

When God's hand repaints the sky,
And the day's replaced by night,
We'll tell them the world's beautiful,
And it's such a lovely sight.

Other than that, I loved this! Great job!

Becca

There are two problems hampering this poem that make it unacceptable for anyone wishing for a good read. The first is a technical one: the rhyming, which follows such a mundanely trampling pattern that when I read the very first line, I knew exactly what rhyme was coming and that chased off any interest I could have had in the conventional format of the piece. Rhyming is only good when it serves a purpose - that is, if the narrator is rolling on a ship at sea, than a cycling, slow rhyme is called for. Consequently, if it has no point, as is the case with yours, then I fail to see why you adhere so strictly and uncompromisingly to it, which makes it seem like you care more about it than you do the content. There are some stanzas in which I could forgive the appalling rhyme scheme. Lines like these

And when I'm in the clouds,
And shaking my God's hand,
Tell my brother I'm sorry.
I'm sure he'll understand

work. Lines like these

Tell Mom I love her,
And tell Daddy he's great.
They'll all come here one day.
It's that tricky thing called fate.

do not. It is because in the first example, the rhymes accidentally blended in seamlessly with the rest of the poem and I forgot that it was rhyming in the first place. In the second example, the grating words, elementary-school descriptions, and forced placement throw me off.

The second problem with the poem is that the explanations you give for all of your philosophical and religious arguments for the validity of death are juvenile at best. Are you supposed to be talking to a class of fourth-graders or people who can understand the world and who don't need to be taken to your main theme with baby steps and simplistic justifications? You try so hard to make it amusingly easy to understand, it seems, that you end up repeating yourself as if we did not get it the first time. Every other stanza is a reiteration of the same thing. The tongue-in-cheek references to popular culture and idioms are too many and apparently put there randomly, which is not helping matters. At the end of the piece, you did not fill any holes but just threw the reader some vague explanation for everything. An example is when you talk about your family. You do say how your mother and father had their shortcomings, but then you wrap it up with the sickeningly-sweet concept of "love" without bothering to give us some more detail.

This poem suffers. You need to go back and work on every line independently, then work on every stanza independently, then work on the thematic and message elements of the poem. It will be difficult, considering that the piece is greatly flawed on almost every level, but at least fixing the rhyme will alleviate some of the worst problems. After that, start using imagery, metaphor, and symbols whose meaning that you do not heavily hint at two lines later so that the reader can do some thinking on his own. Right now, this poem is hanging off a thread from being deletion-worthy but I think with improvement, it would be one that could be read.

Hope that helped.

Explosive_Pen wrote:Alrighty, so I decided I should save this poem, and here's the result:


I'm not afraid of death,
And I'm not afraid to live
Like tomorrow's never coming.
And I have so much to give. (Didn't see rhythm problems here, so no change.)

Eyebrows knit together,
And biting my fingernails.
I'm burnt and I'm bruised; (People said to elaborate on this, so let's see what I can do.)
I've tried to fly, but I've failed. (Right number of syllables; I think it works.)

Painting a broad smile
On my pale face.
Because there's bliss;
Aren't I an odd case?

I know that my number's up, (Mention of awkwardness here, so let's see...)
And I know I'm defying gravity.
Clumsy me, falling on my face;
I've caused a new tragedy. (Not a total fix... Feel free to tear it apart.)

I've got two feet in the dirt,
And one hand on the sky.
Today's not going anywhere,
If tomorrow's the day I die.

Everyday, lives are taken,
And people die with grins.
Don't we owe it to ourselves
To let the number win?

And if the number's truly up,
Mine will surely come.
I'll meet Grampa in heaven,
If I'm dead, but never done.

Tell Mom I love her,
And tell Daddy he's great.
They'll all come here one day.
It's that tricky thing called fate.

Daddy was always awkward
And Mom tended to annoy.
But love surpasses these things;
Adoration is no toy. (I decided to shove another stanza in here. The last line's a bit short, but it's got the right number of syllables, so why not?)

And when I'm in the clouds,
And shaking my God's hand,
Tell my brother I'm sorry.
I'm sure he'll understand

That the three years we had gone
Without speaking were wasted time;
He, consumed with technology,
And me, obsessed with all my rhymes. (Another stanza shove. I was asked to explain, so I think that did the trick.)

When I meet Mother Mary,
When I'm seeing Jesus,
I'll tell them it's been a fun ride,
But the world won't believe us.

Because they have their fears,
And, yes, I had my own.
We all need to lighten up,
To know we're not alone.

When God's hand repaints the sky,
And the day's replaced by night,
We'll tell them the world's beautiful,
And it's such a lovely sight.


Alright, I did what I could. That's the fixed version, but rip it apart and I'll be glad to fix it again.

Oh yeah, this is definitely better.

Eyebrows knit together,
And biting my fingernails.
I'm burnt and I'm bruised;
I've tried to fly, but I've failed.

Perhaps in that last line, instead of the first "I've", just put "I".

I know that my number's up,
And I know I'm defying gravity.
Clumsy me, falling on my face;
I've caused a new tragedy.

You're right; not a total fix that last line, but, I think it's better than the previous one.

That the three years we had gone
Without speaking were wasted time;
He, consumed with technology,
And me, obsessed with all my rhymes

I'm so glad you added this... it really supports the previous stanza that I asked you to elaborate on.

Well, that's all I got. The revision really is a lot better... if only I can star this again.

i really liked the poem it a great way to think about death. Alot of people think that death a horrible thing, you saw the bright side