Torn Up

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Okay. So what I'm going to do is... this. I have two versions of a poem; one old, one new. The old one is only slightly edited from the original, and the new one is drastically edited. P'raps you could guess which is which, but I would so like to know which sounds better. They are, basically, the same poem, with different words and a different message on the way. They both started out in the same place inside my head.


There are the people in
orange skin and white shirts;
look at them and shiver,
look at them and shake.

There are the people in
false smiles and grave dirt;
you know they are lying, and
they know that you quake.

---------

There are the people in
orange skin and white shirts,
telling me naught.

There are the boys wearing
summer smiles and old hurts,
showing me life.

There are the women in
cold snow and long skirts,
taking me out.

There are the people in
orange skin and white shirts,
setting me free.
stay off the faerie paths




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In my opinion the second sounds better but both are good. You probably could combine them if you wanted too. At first I read the two versions as one whole, because I didn't read the stuff above, and it seemed pretty good that way. But overall it all matters on your own opinion of it so do as you like :)
"But death and darkness in that instant closed the eyes of Argos, who had seen his master, Odysseus, after twenty years...."




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I was a bit confused reading this the first time. I read it once more and I started to get it, very well written poem. New and orginal and that's what I live. Your imagery was set off perfectly, maybe you could make it so less confusing but overall very will written poem.
I would say stanza two was my favorite because it just had a certian rythem that I just loved. You a good writer I can tell, next time make it longer because I am sure you could of added a lot of great things.
Keep up the writing!
Sleep Walk-Bohnenberger



The idea that a poem was a made thing stayed with me, and I decided then that I wanted to be an artist, not just a diarist. So I put myself through a kind of apprenticeship in writing poetry, and I understood even then that my practice as a poet was deeply related to my reading.
— Edward Hirsch