A Memory So Vivid

The memories-
Sometimes
They're so vivid,
I can't even tell
If they're real
Or a figment
Of my imagination.

And sometimes,
I don't care.
I don't care
If they're real
Or if they're fake.
So long as
I don't wake up.

Most days,
I'm left there,
After the memories
Have long gone.
I'm left
To lust after
What may or may not have been real.

As soon as I awake
I'm overcome by the urge
To just wallow
And feel pity for myself.
Nevermind the others,
Who so carelessly, wordlessly
Overlook me.

There are a few
Whom I trust
To share the memories.
They know who they are.
No need to break the silence
Over something
So painstakingly trivial.

The memories-
They are good ones,
But are a painful reminder
Of what was,
And what cannot be
Ever
Again.

Author's Note: Yup. Another free-verse, by moi. Feel free to shred.

Shred request approved!

What may or may not have been real.

This line doesn't fit the pattern you've followed up to this point. I'd break it like so:

What may
Or may not
Have been real

Wow. That's the only real nit-pick I have.

The line breaks as is: I don't really like short lines in poetry. I often prefer long lines, but on this piece I'm flip-flopping. Some stanzas read well short, others would read better long. It would help if you kept your lines about the same length per stanza.

Overall- You seem to switch between dreams and memories here. Perhaps you should add something about how the memories invade your dreams to make the transition more understandable.

Pretty good job!

obviously you arent following the normal pattern poem people seem to cherish.
Awesome!

Now as for the poem.

When you start reading it you have a hard time following along because your verses are staright sentences however you break them apart sometimes. When the reader is trying to interpret one meaning you bring up the follow-up of it and then the reader is left to interpret it again and again and again.
You might want to use stronger more emphasized words for each verse and make each line longer but the verse shorter. as long as the line has the impact you want its great!

just for an example i'll change the lines a bit.

Most days,
I'm left
with strands of memories
Long gone
I'm left
To lust
after something real or not

Most days,
I'm left there,
After the memories
Have long gone.
I'm left
To lust after
What may or may not have been real.

with these two different verses---read how differently the affect of each line has onto the reader.
some hold stronger meanings than others.
Just a suggestion!

-Ciao
--Bo_0ts

Maginifico!

First of all, I fail horribly at the technical aspects of poetry. As in, punctuation, capitalization, and line breaks and all that boring stuff. However! I hope I can be of assistance when it comes to flow, meaning, and word choice.

So. At first, I was reading through it, and I kept getting distracted by the shortness, the choppiness of each line.

*Ignore the above comment, for I am about to contradict mysefl*

But, I decided it added to the atmosphere of the poem, if that makes any sense. Like, the shortness, the choppiness got the character of the writer across better. Made them more broken, I guess. The emotion was more raw (rawer?) because of the choppiness. So, don't mind my rambling.

In the second stanza...ummm...

And sometimes,
I don't care.
I don't care
If they're real
Or if they're fake.
So long as
I don't wake up.

Ya! Here, the 'sometimes' leaves another option. It leaves the option of when you do care. Which you don't mention, so I'd suggest taking out the 'sometimes' so you can eliminate the second option.

If that makes sense?

Most days,
I'm left there,
After the memories
Have long gone.
I'm left
To lust after
What may or may not have been real.

This last sentence here is too long for the rest of the stanza. So, I suggest either chopping it where I inserted my arrows, or slightly tweaking the wording to make it short enough to fit on that one line.

I'm overcome by the urge

The contraction here ruins the formal tone you've established. Which is very nice, by the way. I suggest writing it out as 'I am'.

There are a few
Whom I trust
To share the memories.
They know who they are.
No need to break the silence
Over something
So painstakingly trivial.

THANK YOU for using the word 'whom' correctly. So many people don't. However, I don't get it. If you can share the memories with these people, that's good right? I'd think it would mean a lot to you. it would be more than 'painstakingly trivial'. And how can something be painstakingly trivial?

*Evi has a revelation*

Unless it's, like, painstaking how much attention people pay attention to names and not kindness of deeds?

I'm being rather confusing today, I imagine. Forgive me for causing you to have to decipher my review. I'm attempting to be helpful; really, I am.

The memories-
They are good ones,
But are a painful reminder
Of what was,
And what cannot be
Ever
Again.

How about, 'But are painful reminders'? Bring it into plural, I believe. Since they are memories, and not a memory.

Overall

I thought this was very nice. Very nice indeed. It got my brain working a bit, looking for deeper meaning, without straining me. Hope this was at least a little bit helpful. I should probably clear my head before attempting any more reviews.

Ta,

~Evi

Monki wrote:The memories-
Sometimes
They're so vivid,
I can't even tell
If they're real
Or a figment
Of my imagination.

And sometimes,
I don't care.
I don't care
If they're real
Or if they're fake.
So long as
I don't wake up.

Most days,
I'm left there,
After the memories
Have long gone.
I'm left
To lust after
What may or may not have been real.

As soon as I awake
I'm overcome by the urge
To just wallow
And feel pity for myself.
Nevermind the others,
Who so carelessly, wordlessly
Overlook me.

There are a few
Whom I trust
To share the memories.
They know who they are.
No need to break the silence
Over something
So painstakingly trivial.

The memories-
They are good ones,
But are a painful reminder
Of what was,
And what cannot be
Ever
Again.

Author's Note: Yup. Another free-verse, by moi. Feel free to shred.

Hey Monki ^^ You're my next victim in this war. I was really bored with reviewing people's works so I went to write my novel and make posters xD It's still game on. Now onto your review...

STOP! Uh oh, mistake in first stanza. The flow broke when you broke up the sentence "or a figment, of my imagination." I know you're trying to make the lines seem the same, but that beginning was boring. The break in the flow didn't help either.

Repeating "i don't care" in the second stanza is a no no here. You should just make it one sentence if you're going to keep it. You also repeated the real or fake thing in the second stanza.

Okay Mel, the beginning of your poem is boring and repetitive. The ending is somewhat better. The idea you have is a good one, but the way you portrayed it in this poem ruined the whole idea. It's only in there in the end. How did you get from imagination dream to painful reminders? You say you don't want to forget them but they hurt? It didn't work here This is my first piece I've read from you and I'm sort of upset that I chose you as my next victim.

Hopefully whatever you give me next will be better to review.

Keep Writing

<3 Shina

I liked the poem a lot, but you might want to consider switching the last two stanzas with eachother. Or would that be less concluding? I do not know, but the second to last stanza is a little unrelated because it is talking about the people who you told; then it switches right back again in the last stanza.

Monki, Monki, MonKI! Juniper here =D

Yay! Another poem by you to shred into fine bits! Mwaha! Let's get chopping!

The memories-

Sometimes

They're so vivid,

I can't even tell

If they're real

Or a figment

Of my imagination.

Somehow, my brain read the first lines as The Memories/Are sometimes/So vivid. I have no idea why.

I'm not so sure that your usage of capital letters on each new line is doing any good for my brain. Stuff keeps getting jumbled, Monki!

Also! At the end of that first line, you have a hyphen. You want a dash (--), two hyphens together .

And sometimes,

[s]I don't care.[/s]

I don't care

If they're real

Or if they're fake.

So long as

I don't wake up.

Oi, deary. I'm not sure if that back-to-back repetition is going to work, dear


So!

I liked this a lot. It took my mind back-- like centuries back.

Sometimes, the tone of a piece takes me back in history. It's something about "lonely" or solitary poems that does that to me, I'm not entirely sure why, but this is one of those that did that.

I enjoyed this, Monkey . The flow was beautiful (aside from the fact that my brain is dancing over the letters and going crazy).

Well done, Monki! Well done!

*secretly gives gold star*

June