The War Wind

It's a cold dark night
waiting for the moon to appear up high
sparkling with the lights of the scattered stars
and from the our corners of the town,
a freezing wind comes, a wind of change
cold and harsh, is running through town.

The children run, singing happy songs
dancing to the beat of the gypsy tambourine
laughing at there senseless elation.
And the parents think, realizing the wind is here
hitting against their faces, freezing their will
and drying their blood.
But sill enjoying the dark night's beauty.

And from sown the street, a young boy shouts,
crying silently.
"War,war,war"
The godforsaken cry is a lamentation.
A lamentation for the living,
a lamentation for the dead.
The hidden uncertainty of the fate
the country awaits.

It's coming with the wind,
It rises from the pit of hell
It crushes, breaks, fills the air with the hate of a killer.
War! The proud chanting of a soulless impaler.

They march singing the damned melody of death,
firing their guns with the movement of one hand,
sending the children to a cold wet dungeon
where the tambourine has lost its deep sound
and the spirits of hope had shattered and fall.
and not even the dreams of the ancient dreamer are left.

The wind is blowing harder
becoming fire as it crushes against the skin
burning the houses, setting fire on all places.
The howls of desperation rise from the center of the earth,
becoming the nightmare of a summer reverie.

Its crawling under their skins,
leaving the flesh exposed to its sins.
And its the wind coming from the inside out,
leaving the strongest and killing the weak,
breaking their souls with the sound of a gun.

Dawn is coming from the horizon,
crying for the barbarian disaster of the wind.
The whole nature cries and its hidden heart mourns
while human kind scream a the sight of the wind.

But it's abruptly ceasing, becoming only a rough breeze
whispering in every ear like a buzzing sound,
disturbing in every way.
Bringing back the small pieces of blood, that stain the streets.

The children are coming out of their dungeon,
breathing the atmosphere of cruelty that the wind takes,
leaving the ashes of broken dreams and forgotten memories
that lay in the street as a dead body waiting for the sea
to ask for its soul.

But the wind is now a breeze, a soothing breeze
caressing the imagination,
blowing softly through their nostrils.
Giving hope, teaching dreams, running along
with memories long gone.

Wow. That was really well written. I actually enjoyed reading it! It really turned my blood to ice, and it made me sad, but it is true. I only saw like one or two mispellings, and only a few grammatical errors. Still, it was really awesome, and it really made me think. Thanks for posting that.

Hey pudding!

There were a lot of good things about this poem! For one, you actually talked about something real that we could visualize. So that gives us a sense of conflict and drives us to finish the poem--something you always want to do with your readers.

What you want to focus on is making sure that you don't clog your poem with adjectives. The more forceful your poem is, in fact, the less you want to use adjectives.

I learned to love poetry through your language, so let me use an example from Pablo Neruda:

"El fuego cruel" por Pablo Neruda

AQUELLA guerra! El tiempo
un año y otro y otro
deja caer como si fueran tierra
para enterrar
aquello
que no quiere morir: claveles,
agua,
cielo,
la España, a cuya puerta
toqué, para que abrieran,
entonces, allá lejos,
y una rama cristalina
me acogió en el estío
dándome sombra y claridad,
frescura
de antigua luz que corre
desgranada
en el canto:
de antiguo canto fresco
que solicita
nueva
boca para cantarlo.
Y allí llegué para cumplir mi canto.
Ya he cantado y contado
lo que con manos llenas me dio España,
y lo que me robó con agonía,
lo que de un rato a otro
me quitó de la vida
sin dejar en el hueco
más que llanto,
llanto del viento en una cueva amarga,
llanto de sangre sobre la memoria.

Aquella guerra! No faltó la luz
ni la verdad,
no hizo falta la dicha sino el pan,
estuvo allí el amor, pero no los carbones:
había hombre, frente, ojos, valor
para la más acribillada gesta
y caían las manos como espigas cortadas
sin que se conociera la derrota,
esto es, había poder de hombre y de alma,
pero no había fusiles
y ahora les pregunto
después de tanto olvido:
qué hacer? qué hacer? qué hacer?

Respóndanme, callados,
ebrios de aquel silencio, soñadores
de aquella falsa paz y falso sueño,
qué hacer con sólo cólera en las cejas?
con sólo puños, poesía, pájaros,
razon, dolor, qué hacer con las palomas?
qué hacer con la pureza y con la ira
si delante de ti se te desgrana
el racimo del mundo
y ya la muerte
ocupa
la mesa
el lecho
la plaza
el teatro
la casa vecina
y blindada se acerca desde Albacete y Soria,
por costa y páramo, por ciudad y río,
calle por calle,
y llega,
y no hay sino la piel para pelearle,
no hay sino las banderas y los puños
y el triste honor ensangrentado
con los pies rotos,
entre polvo y piedra,
por el duro camino catalán
bajo las balas últimas
caminando
ay! hermanos valientes, al destierro!

He doesn't clutter his poems (which can be very violent, actually) with adjectives and adverbs. He uses verbs and nouns to make his poetry forceful, and that makes all the difference. Mind you, he DOES use adjectives. But only the things he absolutely wants to stress.

So trim the fat from your poem and take out all the unessential adjectives and adverbs. It'll be a stronger poem.

Also, it's not quite clear why the children are being forced in the dungeon. It doesn't really make sense why. It would make more sense that they are sheltered from the destruction... I don't know. Poetry has to make sense, even when it doesn't.

Anyway, good to see your poem! Keep on writing! And feel lucky. You have some of the prettiest poets in the world to look up to without constantly referring to a Spanish-English dictionary.

Hi, Pudin!

It's a cold dark night
waiting for the moon to appear up high
sparkling with the lights of the scattered stars
and from the our corners of the town,
a freezing wind comes, a wind of change
cold and harsh, is running through town.

A few things about this stanza. Firstly, when you're describing night, it would be fair to both readers and yourself if you didn't use the basic words that everyone uses to describe night. It's an intriguing concept, but by just saying "cold" and "dark" and throwing in the moon and the sparkling stars, you're not doing enough justice to it. Think about the poor night, always having to be dark and cold and sometimes chilly, just because poets don't go beyond in bringing it to life. You'll surely improve this by keeping on writing, but I'm just saying that don't stick to the basic words that don't surprise anyone, when you could have the whole world. Same thing applies to the wind.

Also, the fourth line -- I think either "the" or "our" is unneeded. (Hopefully "the.") =)

And then the final thing: in my opinion the repetition of "town" makes the stanza lag behind a bit. While in some cases repetition can be good, I generally try to avoid using it too much.

The children run, singing happy songs

Overall I like the second stanza better, but "happy" is just another of those boring words that don't contribute anything to the poem.

A few spelling errors too:

laughing at there senseless elation.

But sill enjoying the dark night's beauty.

"Their" and "still", no?

And from sown the street, a young boy shouts,
crying silently.
"War,war,war"
The godforsaken cry is a lamentation.
A lamentation for the living,
a lamentation for the dead.
The hidden uncertainty of the fate
the country awaits.

"Sown" should probably be "down." Again, the image flattens with both the repetition of "cry" and its basicness. "Lamentation" is such a strong and long word, it doesn't look nor sound very good, especially with the choppiness all the full stops create. I would suggest rewriting that bit, for example:

The godforsaken cry is a lamentation –
one for the living,
and one for the dead.

Or something like that, to make it smoothier.

sending the children to a cold wet dungeon
where the tambourine has lost its deep sound
and the spirits of hope had shattered and fall.
and not even the dreams of the ancient dreamer are left.

The word "cold" should be banned for you. On the third line, I believe you meant "fell" instead of fall, right? I'm liking the aspects of the tambourine and the ancient dreamer, so far my favourite bits in this poem.

The wind is blowing harder
becoming fire as it crushes against the skin

See, on the first line you do it again, not reaching further than is convenient, but the second line is more like what you should be doing all the time. The first line could as well not exist at all, because it doesn't really tell us anything else than what it says, but the second line shows that you have the ability of doing more, you just need to be brave and go for it.

Dawn is coming from the horizon,

In here you could rethink your word choices again. "Coming" is a blank word, so you need to think about how you see the dawn coming. Is it rushing, creeping, floating? Think of more descriptive words.

Bringing back the small pieces of blood, that stain the streets.

I was taught to never put a comma before "that."

*

Alright, so, a couple of things for the future. When you want to describe something, don't use the word that comes first into your mind. Of course, this is contradicting a little bit with the fact that I think poetry should be as spontaneous as possible, but usually it's not enough. The real deal might be making it look and sound spontaneous, even though you'd been working with it and tearing up your hair for weeks. A good exercice for this would perhaps be trying to rewrite any work of yours by replacing all the words with their synonyms. I don't mean that you should rewrite them for good, but just for exercice, like I said. Like, "black cat" would be for example "coal-coloured kitty" or something. It doesn't have to make much sense, but it can open your eyes to notice how many words there are for some concepts. The site www.thesaurus.com has helped me several times, and it's definitely worth checking out.

Other thing, and a slightly lesser one, to pay attention to is the it's/its thing. Remember that "it's" is short for "it is", and if you leave the apostrophe out, it becomes a possessive form. Now, I'm not going to point out every bit regarding this problem in your poem, but instead I'm letting you to go through your poem and stopping on every "it's" and "its" and thinking whether you meant "it is" or not. You can't learn this by anything other than action.

So, I don't think I have much more to say about this. You had some interesting aspects there, but unfortunately the lack of the interesting words flattened the poem down a bit, at least for me. But practice makes better, as they say. I hope this helped, and PM me with any questions!


Demeter
x

Wow Puddin!!! This poem totally rocked!!!! It really kept me going till the end. This was extremely well written. You have amazing talent!!! I did notice a couple of errors but it seems that they were already pointed out. So yeah I'll definitely read more of your stuff!!! See you soon!!! Bye!!!!

Keep writing
wookielover17

Thanks so much for the reviews!!!
I'm extremely grateful and I'll continue to edit this poem. And to be honest, This is like the third draft I never inished because I had exams and totally forget about it.
So thanks so much for helping me!!

I'll see if I post the edited one and Snoink thanks so much for reminding me of such awesome poet!!

PS. I actually lived where he was born-Chile.

One word, WOW. That was incredible! I don't think there's a single part of that i didn't enjoy. The title was but mediocre though. It fits with your story, but I think it could be better. Besides that, it's evident you put a lot of thought into this and i really enjoyed it beginning to end! Looking forward to any new work from you!

Tyler

WOW! I thought that was incredible!

Only like three typos so i can't nag on you for that, the only one i really recall off the top of my head without looking back was you put an a where an at belonged. Oh and you said sown and i believe you meant town. It was so good though honestly. The only thing I didn't like however was your stanza where the wind turns into fire. You said fire to many times. Maybe use the word flame instead? It was wonderful.
Simply poetry. bravo.




I always feel fancy and artsy when commenting on poetry.

Hey Pudin Here as requested! Lovely poem, such length always impresses me.
Demeter has gone over like everything. So mine will seem like repetition to you, but I'll try my best.

It's a cold dark night
waiting for the moon to appear up high
sparkling with the lights of the scattered stars
and from the our corners of the town,
a freezing wind comes, a wind of change
cold and harsh, is running through town.

This is a little cliche as an opening stanza. It's the typical explanation of nightime.
(It was a dark and stormy night, the moon was full, stars flickering in the sky sort of thing.) Everyone has heard it over and over again.
Also I find 'town' to be redundant. Try something like burg or hamlet. Just look through a thesaurus for many options.

The children run, singing happy songs
dancing to the beat of the gypsy tambourine
laughing at there senseless elation.
And the parents think, realizing the wind is here
hitting against their faces, freezing their will
and drying their blood.
But sill enjoying the dark night's beauty.

*Their = their belongings
There = that place over there
They're = They are*

*Still instead of sill*

Just checking
This is more of a listing story at the moment. There is no real present flow, and the weak one the you are trying to force into the poem isn't noticeable to an uneducated ear.

And from sown the street, a young boy shouts,
crying silently.
"War,war,war"
The godforsaken cry is a lamentation.
A lamentation for the living,
a lamentation for the dead.
The hidden uncertainty of the fate
the country awaits.

Again. No flow. It's more statement after statement. When reading it out loud I had to pause in between sentences because the sentence just do no work well together and barely as individual sentences. Poetry flows like water from someone's mouth. It doesn't have to rhyme, just needs to flow, transition into itself and other lines seamlessly. Plopping down your very nicely described sentences and images does not work as a poem. Making a poem is like making one puzzle that is scrambled in with others. You have to find the right way to word it. Play around with the words, the order or even try different sentences. You'll find the right one after a little bit.

It's coming with the wind,
It rises from the pit of hell
It crushes, breaks, fills the air with the hate of a killer.
War! The proud chanting of a soulless impaler.

A little bit better. Improvement from above but still needs some work. But very nice imagery here.

They march singing the damned melody of death,
firing their guns with the movement of one hand,
sending the children to a cold wet dungeon
where the tambourine has lost its deep sound
and the spirits of hope had shattered and fall.
and not even the dreams of the ancient dreamer are left.

Two little things:

and the spirits of hope had shattered and fall. (fell)

You are using the past tense then suddenly used the present tense.

and not even the dreams of the ancient dreamer are left

This line does make sense with the "not". Your narration is speaking negatively but with the not the last sentence is positive and negative. Like saying : I hadn't bought the ice cream I wanted and I ate it.
Makes no sense right? Cut out the not and the sentence will fit in with your stanza.

The wind is blowing harder
becoming fire as it crushes against the skin
burning the houses, setting fire on all places.
The howls of desperation rise from the center of the earth,
becoming the nightmare of a summer reverie.

Again, again flow! Flow! Flow! This is just a story you are telling use. Sentence after sentence of not so smooth transitions. I really do think it is something to work on.

Its crawling under their skins,
leaving the flesh exposed to its sins.
And its the wind coming from the inside out,
leaving the strongest and killing the weak,
breaking their souls with the sound of a gun.

Much better. But still needs some work on the same comments as above. The imagery is very powerful though. Nicely done on that front.

Dawn is coming from the horizon,
crying for the barbarian disaster of the wind.
The whole nature cries and its hidden heart mourns
while human kind scream a the sight of the wind.

at*
Wind is redundant in this as well. find something stronger, harsher to fit in with the tone of the story. "Gale" would be a good example.



Now I would finish but I find it quite pointless if I am going to point out the same things.
The things you must work on:

Flow! Flow! Flow! Flow!
(it is the hardest part of any poetry. I mean any! Once you have that nailed you're amazing.)

Typos and Grammar Errors
(Always go over your poem before posting it. Then spell check button in the right-hand corner usually points out the obvious things you missed when typing.)

Language to Create Imagery
(A lot of the time it was great then there would be a few lines with very redundant and drab language. Simple words can bring an image to someone's mind instantly)

Tip: to practice, (just to practice) try writing shorter poems. That way you can focus on a small amount of writing to get right then you extend it to these impressive lengths.


Oh dear. Looking over this I sound terribly harsh! *hugs* I'm trying to help you out as requested. I love the idea, the imagery is very strong as well. <3 Keep practicing and you'll get it perfect.

Kamas

Pudding! Okay, this took far too long, and I’m very sorry. I won’t explain, I won’t bore you with the details of my life during a review.

I. NITPICKS

It's a cold dark night << Not the best of hooks, if I’m honest.
waiting for the moon to appear up high
sparkling with the lights of the scattered stars
and from the our corners of the town,
a freezing wind comes, a wind of change << repetition of wind, not good. Repetition needs to be used wisely.
cold and harsh, is running through town. << This doesn’t make grammatical sense. Also, cold and harsh?

Okay, so not a bad beginning, but not a great one either, where is the hook? Where is that special something to make us read on? Also, your descriptions are quite boring. Make us feel something, use our senses. You try this with the description of the cold, I think, but it’s flat, dull. Sharpen this up, and make it more personal to you, and we will feel something more for this poem.

The children run, singing happy songs << again, I feel this is a little flat.
dancing to the beat of the gypsy tambourine << why gypsy? There is no significance of this, as far as I’m aware, this is a good image though I suppose. It would be better if the significance of the tambourine being gypsy is explained.
laughing at there senseless elation. << I don’t understand the purpose of this line, I know this stanza is supposed to show contrast, but I don’t think it all adds anything, you need to make it necessary if you want to include it.
And the parents think, realizing the wind is here << think about what? It seems as if you’re going to tell us, but then just forgot.
hitting against their faces, freezing their will << hitting is a weak word, also, freezing their will seems drab and cliché.
and drying their blood. << How can a wind do this? I don’t like this image… why is it here?
But sill enjoying the dark night's beauty. << What an odd contradiction. Also, I’m pretty sure most nights are dark to be honest!

Okay, so this stanza was slightly better, you presented an opposing image for the one to come. However, I don’t feel that it was all necessary, I love the tambourine, but I can’t emphasise enough that we need to know why it’s gypsy. I also think it’s odd that you haven’t really mentioned war yet, and it’s already the third stanza of your war poem. You should at least give a hint. I know there’s a title, and all, but I don’t know, it just feels as though there needs to be a clever metaphor somewhere.

And from sown the street, a young boy shouts, << down* also, why would he be shouting, I don’t see why he’s included, other than to tell the reader that there’s war.
crying silently. << Do you mean crying out, or sobbing? Either way, I don’t think he should be quiet.
"War,war,war" << Don’t like this, it’s the easy way out of introducing your theme.
The godforsaken cry is a lamentation. << Don’t know why, just don’t like this. Seems cliché, a little boring.
A lamentation for the living, << I don’t like the repetition here.
a lamentation for the dead. << Just puts me off by now. It’s just totally unnecessary to even include this.
The hidden uncertainty of the fate << if it’s hidden then of course it will be uncertain, lose one of these descriptions, having the two makes the one you’ll get rid of superfluous, decide which you think suit’s the mood of this poem best.
the country awaits. << if he’s only young, why does he care so much? Obviously he would be scared, but why is he running around screaming war?

Okay, so this stanza was strange… I don’t see why it was even included if I’m honest, it doesn’t seem to add to the poem.

It's coming with the wind, << back to this again? It just feels as though we’ve heard it before a thousand times. Can you think of something better, more original?
It rises from the pit of hell << war is always described as hell, try to use something different.
It crushes, breaks, fills the air with the hate of a killer.
War! The proud chanting of a soulless impaler. << impaler isn’t a word apparently. Also, I don’t like this line, the way you use an exclamation mark after war, it just doesn’t work for me. Also, if it’s soulless it won’t feel pride, surely?

Okay, you need to watch out for your descriptions. They’re not really doing much for the poem at the moment, it feels more like prose. It’s a shame, because I do like your writing style.

They march singing the damned melody of death, << why damned? It just seems such an obvious description.
firing their guns with the movement of one hand,
sending the children to a cold wet dungeon << why cold and wet? Why a dungeon? I don’t see why this is included if I’m honest.
where the tambourine has lost its deep sound << I like this. I think you should somehow make the tambourine into a central metaphor for this poem.
and the spirits of hope had shattered and fall. << Tense issues, have another read through.
and not even the dreams of the ancient dreamer are left. << dreams, dreamer? I like this, but find another word.

So, I liked this. Apart from what’s pointed out, but that would just make it better. I think you pick up towards the end half of the poem, like you find your confidence. Well done.

The wind is blowing harder << couldn’t you think of a better thing to say?
becoming fire as it crushes against the skin << nice idea, try to show rather than tell us this idea though.
burning the houses, setting fire on all places. << setting fire on all places doesn’t make sense. Also, this whole line isn’t up to your awesome standard. Just discard it, would be my advice, it’s not needed to make the rest make sense.
The howls of desperation rise from the center of the earth, << centre*
becoming the nightmare of a summer reverie. << Eh, feels somehow wrong for this. Also, it feels used.

I like it, but not enough. Show us, make us feel something, at the moment it’s all a little too flat for us to connect with it.

Its crawling under their skins, << why plural? Just say skin. Also, slightly cliché I feel.
leaving the flesh exposed to its sins. << I don’t know whether this was purposeful, but there’s rhyme here. It sounds forced, and generally not good. There’s no rhyme in the rest of the poem, why here?
And its the wind coming from the inside out, << Really don’t like the wind image that keeps appearing.
leaving the strongest and killing the weak, << why even include this? Me no like…
breaking their souls with the sound of a gun. << how can you break a soul.

You still feel detached from your theme. Your descriptions have definitely got better towards the end, but they need to make more of an impact.

Dawn is coming from the horizon, << Eh, not really needed, is it?
crying for the barbarian disaster of the wind.
The whole nature cries and its hidden heart mourns
while human kind scream a the sight of the wind. << humankind, how can you see wind?

But it's abruptly ceasing, becoming only a rough breeze << No no no, telling alert! Be a little more imaginative, please.
whispering in every ear like a buzzing sound, << don’t need the like.
disturbing in every way. << Not your best description to be honest.
Bringing back the small pieces of blood, that stain the streets. << a piece of blood? Hmm…

The children are coming out of their dungeon,
breathing the atmosphere of cruelty that the wind takes, << breathing atmosphere? Why use atmosphere, you’re just trying to make it sound better, but I get a totally different idea in my head, there is more to atmosphere than air.
leaving the ashes of broken dreams and forgotten memories << Good. I like this.
that lay in the street as a dead body waiting for the sea
to ask for its soul. << Like!

But the wind is now a breeze, a soothing breeze
caressing the imagination,
blowing softly through their nostrils. << I had a beautiful image before you said nostrils lol… sorry, just don’t like it.
Giving hope, teaching dreams, running along << Don’t like. :/ I think you could use better images. This feels amateurish to me, not as good as your usual standard for me.
with memories long gone. << I think they should stay with the voice. It would have had an impact.

II. FLOW & RHYME

It Didn’t flow too badly, but then it could have been better as well. You seem to have odd rhyme in a couple of places, which I don’t think is intentional, but I don’t think it works. Really I don’t.

III. IMPROVEMENT

I think your style is definitely developing, I hope my critiques don’t offend, I just think you have potential, and that you could definitely bring it out. You’re definitely taking people’s comments into consideration, which is good, and I think you will continue to get better and better.

IV. IMAGERY

I liked the image of the tambourine a lot. I think the slow steady beat of it, or a drum, should have been the central image for this poem, rather than the wind. Wind is overused. The drum could have interesting effects. If you worked at it, you could even incorporate a drum/tambourine like beat to your poem. Anyway, I do like some of your imagery, as I’ve said, but you need to be careful with your descriptions, make us feel something. At the moment, it just feels like it’s all there just because.

V. THEME

War… I really don’t like war poems that are written by someone who hasn’t experienced it. It shows. When I hear war, I always think of the World Wars. I just don’t see how anything like this could have affected you. Because you haven’t experienced this, I think your writing suffers a little.

VI. OVERALL

Discounting my prejudice against war poetry by people who haven’t experienced it, I think this is a really nice idea. It definitely could be improved, and I’m sure other people will give you much better advice than I have!

I think you’re improving, and will continue to improve. I think your main problem with this poem is connecting to the theme, use your experiences in your poetry, that way it will be more personal, more easy to identify with.

As always, I’m sorry if my ‘thorough’ is your ‘harsh’ but I just try to help. I will always be open to suggestions on my review technique, so if you had problems with this I am very sorry. I think that, despite not experiencing this, if you work on it, it could be fantastic, it just feels as though it is in the beginning phases maybe. But a very good start. If you decide any of my advice is relevant, and decide to change anything, please let me know, I’d love to see your improvements.

It was a pleasure, as always, and I hope to read more. You know where to find me if you ever wanted another review! Thank you for your time.

~ Roon