A Birdless Summer

A Birdless Summer

Degradation of the soul
brings a strange macabre cold,
which chills the rosiest heart
and decays the purest gold.

In an unconscious ocean,
in perpetual motion,
life's a crowded hospital
for cognitive abortion.

Leering fangs dipped in violet
rip the semen stained harlot,
while sinister, icy winds
turn bare nests into caskets.

I liked this. I liked how raw it was. The imagery is pretty good, as well, just be careful of not using too many adjective-noun pairings, which can be monotonous if used too often.

"Unconscious ocean" is really the only image I don't like - wait that's a lie. "Sinister, icy winds" as well. Both are a cliche, although the latter especially so. "Rosiest heart" and "purest gold" can be added to that as well. Instead of rosy, what else symbolizes a kind, innocent heart? "Purest gold" is fine in my opinion, mostly because I can't think of anything else that could replace "purest".

Final words: Good job.

Thank you, I will try more thoroughly to avoid clichés in the future.

FrankProchazka --

First of all, I love the Kafka quote in your signature. Second, your avatar strikes in me a certain fear and intimidation. Coming from the guy with Cagney's scowling face as his own avatar. I think of serial killers. Somehow, the quote and the poem compound this impression.

The poem. I enjoyed it for the tasteful simplicity of the second stanza, and the classical and romantic-era tone of the first stanza. I like the third stanza for its closing line, especially due to the internal rhyme.

On first read through the poem, I didn't care for it. I'm not much of a rhyming poetry kind of guy, and the grim imagery so obscured the subject as to turn me away. On the third read-through, I gained more appreciation. The way you've written this is simplistic. The structure is straight-forward, the diction reminiscent of Robert Frost. You have delicate, though fairly common, images. This may lead some people to see cliches, if they don't take the poem as a whole. But there is a certain unabashed honesty in speaking of "the purest gold" and the "rosiest hearts". A degree of refreshing throwback.

Though PhoneticallyAccurate is correct in pointing out a few of the cliched descriptions. Such as "strange macabre cold" and "sinister, icy winds". These are terrible.

"life's a crowded hospital
for cognitive abortion"

This is a good line.

I think the other thing that throws me off here is the fact that each stanza reads as if it's from a different poem. It's rather disjointed. How does one relate to the other? I find it especially difficult to link the third stanza to the rest of the poem. Its violent images contrast harshly with the creeping haziness of the preceding stanzas. I think that this piece shows that you are a talented writer, no doubt a well-read poet as well, but in the end I think it fails to do its job. It's far too disjointed, fragmented. I would appreciate more connectivity between stanzas.

Again, I love the closing line.

Thanks,

-Kylan

Thank you, Kylan.

I've only recently taken up the hobby of recreational writing and the opportunity to receive encouragement and criticism from far more experienced writers, such as yourself, is greatly appreciated.

You've made clear to me the errors I have made in constructing this poem, aside from the occasional dull imagery. Although the stanzas share similar themes, the differences in narrative go beyond that of workably erratic and become hopelessly schizophrenic.

Regards,
Frank.

Hi there. The title of this piece caught my attention so I checked it out, and I'm glad I did.

Degradation of the soul
brings a strange macabre cold,
which chills the rosiest heart
and decays the purest gold.

I like the idea behind this, but I think it's a bit adjective-heavy, particularly "strange macabre cold." Rosiest heart and purest gold feel a little familiar, a bit faux poetic, but you're employing the opposite of them here, showing their destruction, so nice job.

In an unconscious ocean,
in perpetual motion,
life's a crowded hospital
for cognitive abortion.

I really like this stanza. The rhyme isn't forced at all and the last two lines are just fantastic. Great work.

Leering fangs dipped in violet
rip the semen stained harlot,
while sinister, icy winds
turn bare nests into caskets.

The last line is great, but again here in this stanza it gets a little adjective-heavy. I'm not too keen on "leering fangs" but, as Kylan mentioned, it's the "sinister, icy winds" that is most troublesome. The last line is great, a wonderfully eerie image to conclude with, even tying in to the title.

Overall, really nice job. Your voice is direct yet slightly off-center, and you have no problems with punctuation or capitalization. My biggest advice is: watch the adjectives. When you write verse, examine each word carefully and be prepared to defend its right to be in the poem, and trim whatever seems unnecessary or redundant.

Thanks for the read.

Thanks for the review blackbird.

I must say I'm intrigued by the prevalence of murdering psychopathic avatars in this thread.

I'm dismayed by the realisation that, most likely, my reason for including lines like "Strange, icy wind" is because I became too enthralled and focused on the superior line which was to follow, like "turns bare nests into caskets.".

It's a shame, because I think the potential for this poem to be great was ruined by amateurish carelessness.

So it goes.