What I Know

This is sort of a poem, I think. Not very encouraging, is it? I just felt that my portfolio was looking sort of sad and empty, so I decided to stick this in there, because I've been having pretty much no inspiration at all lately, so I think that maybe if I see something there I'll be more inclined to add others. Sorry if you feel compelled to read this piece of shit.

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WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW.

What do I know?

I know about school
driving on freeways
those geriatric bastards in the fast cars
video games
herpetology
mental disorders
politically correct names for each sexuality (well, most of them)


Damn, I don't know very much.

I do know
that love is the answer.
that happiness is fleeting.
that misery loves company.
that you can't hold on to anything forever.
that concrete and grass are the devil.
that bluejays are frickin evil.
that you can spend fucking forever looking for the perfect, holy-grail purse on the internet.
that friends are worth the hassle.
that boyfriends, most often, are not.
that the light is good and does not burn (usually).
that you don't really appreciate something until you find you can't live without it.
that preps are not so scary.
that exercise is necessary.
that math is surprisingly useful.
that the universe is huge. Unfathomably, unquestionably huge.
and... that my place in this world is to experience it in it's imperfection and try my best to fix it.

That is where my faith collides with my knowledge, because it's impossible to know what you are made for without asking who made you and why. And that's what I'm collecting all this knowledge for, so that maybe it will lead to some answers. I can't promise myself I'll ever get them, but if I keep asking questions, maybe somebody will answer. And that 0.000001% chance is worth my time, because those rare answers would vindicate my entire existence. That's worth a little faith, if you ask me.

WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW.

What do I know?

I know about school
driving on freeways
those geriatric bastards in the fast cars
video games
herpetology
mental disorders
politically correct names for each sexuality (well, most of them)

Already a problem, and that is the fact that you say more than you actually mean, and if you actually mean it, you don't elaborate on it enough. First of all, why does it matter that the cars are driven by those who are geriatric? I tried to look at it from a paradoxical point - after all, fast driving and fancy cars are usually associated with the young - but that falls apart when the rest of the stanza is read. Herpetology? The study of reptiles? What does that have to do with anything? It could be a symbol of the preceding description of "fast" cars as opposed to the "slow" manner that both the elderly and reptiles are known for, but if that's the case, make it clearer. If that's not the case, then you need to have a good excuse for why you're throwing together unrelated subjects without so much as a transition.

The last line doesn't make sense and was probably for humor, as the reader sees it. Sexuality is, in most people's minds, not fractured into subsets and yet you point out that it is indeed. But...why? What's the point? Are you just going for base, slapstick humor? It seems like it and ruins the tone, not to mention the flow, of the poem at this point.

I do know
that love is the answer.
that happiness is fleeting.
that misery loves company.
that you can't hold on to anything forever.
that concrete and grass are the devil.
that bluejays are frickin evil.
that you can spend fucking forever looking for the perfect, holy-grail purse on the internet.
that friends are worth the hassle.
that boyfriends, most often, are not.
that the light is good and does not burn (usually).
that you don't really appreciate something until you find you can't live without it.
that preps are not so scary.
that exercise is necessary.
that math is surprisingly useful.
that the universe is huge. Unfathomably, unquestionably huge.
and... that my place in this world is to experience it in it's imperfection and try my best to fix it.

I'm not sure what you're trying to achieve here. This is massive overkill and most of it comes off as tired, factory-lined cliches useful to nobody. Some parts like "that you don't...live without it" are directly from some quote book.

It is possible that this poem is an inside joke and I certainly hope so, considering how many chaotic and random elements are present (bluejays?). If that's true and this is a personal poem, why post it here? Do you just want a grammar check? Do you even want the reader to pay attention to the content of the piece?

That is where my faith collides with my knowledge, because it's impossible to know what you are made for without asking who made you and why. And that's what I'm collecting all this knowledge for, so that maybe it will lead to some answers. I can't promise myself I'll ever get them, but if I keep asking questions, maybe somebody will answer. And that 0.000001% chance is worth my time, because those rare answers would vindicate my entire existence. That's worth a little faith, if you ask me.

This makes no sense. What you might as well have said is "I have no idea what's going on, but I'm hoping something good will happen". Besides being an incredibly shallow and useless philosophy, that stanza is bloated several times past what it should be for the message. The length would be fine if you had something more to say, but even after two readings, I cannot find anything else.

Now assuming this poem was for the general reader, think about the questions "Why should my reader care?" and "How can I make him care?". So far, your poem answers neither of these.

Hope that helped,
Galerius

The point? To say I'm not dead, mostly. There's little other reason. ^^;

Don't worry, there won't be many of these; I don't write often.

I'm curious, though, what is your spectacularly deep philosophical conviction that allows you to call mine shallow by comparison?