unseen starlight makes no mistakes after false daylight and before true tears i must wonder what makes me different from you or anyone because fundamentally we are the same correct? we are equal? if thats the case fundamentally why is the world just another prison
another question i have but one more question that i have to ask why must you pester me every day that i'm alive that was but a question that i had to say because each time you're here it feels like i'm in dismay
dear me, professional thorn dear me, professional thorn when will you stop hiding in a mask of arrows behind a wall of spikes under a table of legos for you should stop and realize it hurts others sincerely, yourself, professional thorn
unsurprisingly, history repeats when i heard the news that your blood ran cold pierced through the chest, was it? i cried i cried until my eyes hurt i cried until i felt nothing yet i didn't mourn for more than a day i'm sorry for your son he must have it rough he loved you and i found you amazing now i talk to a stone with engravings of your name
read in a this rhythm: dun-dun dun-dun, dun. dun-dun dun-dun, dun. then read in dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun dun-dun rhythmic poem follow message block follow message block cycle in & out watch them scream & shout block forget move on block forget move on watch it go round & round no one dares to make a sound move on from what they say "move on for other days" i do not listen to them i am not like blind men, not blind to all the hate not blind to what they say, oh yes, they affect me it's really too easy.
untitled1 i am scared of my face and how it distorts every time i smile i am scared of knowledge and how knowing things brings pain along with suffering i am scared of repeating every little thing i have done and will ever do (they say that time is forever but i am stuck in a loop)
i know who i am i am herb (really, i'll always be tea.) i am scared of many things (unkowns, myself, kidnapping all very real, all very irrational.) i am korean (i have written countless times before about the fact i am korean and why i never seem to know why the world hates me so much.) i am gay (again, i've spoken about this too.) i am neurodivergent (yet again, i've spilled my guts about this too.) i am a poet (not on the capacity of others, but i still consider myself at least somewhat poetic.)
i guess what i'm trying to say is that if i was given a fill in the box for what i am half the sheet would be filled in (but i hate being everything i am whether that be any aspect of me-- my gender, my mind, my body.) and i'd still feel empty (left alone with my thoughts, the whispers of my past urge me to live while the shouts of the future tell me to survive-- the two words apparently meaning something different.)
i'm ashamed of what i've become
every time i look in the mirror i want to break it who cares if i bleed because then i am 'strong' (society loves men being 'strong' but i don't think they meant it like this.) my blood makes me vulnerable my blood will, in that moment, define me (for a second, i forgot that i hurt inside and smiled back at my reflection.)
i'm afraid of what's to come
every second that i'm alive i am reprimanded for the choices of generations passed the sky is a grey ever so gloomy as it is humbling (i mean, it's smoke it's all i've ever been inhaling though.) the freedom provided by this country is so free that apparently my words are fine to be choked out because they mean nothing (if i make a fuss, the world will know, and then fury will follow.)
i'm arising because of what's coming
the world is burning there are real people dying with real families real children we turn our heads the moment it doesn't concern us but they are humans too (to think that we'd turn a blind eye to the same people that we'd "gladly help out" disgusts me.) we forget that even though we watch through screens those people are still victims of brutality (and brutality can mean many things i would use it to describe how i've been treated.)
i am unsure of who i am
aside from the constants aside from the labels the inside of me, i do not know him (the imminent pressure of having to be this and that has made me lose sight of who i truly am.)
[ untitled3 ] i touch the stars with a delicate hand (delicate itself is an odd word, my hand is so callused by hatred already.) it whispers of a epiphany unseen (but i never see epiphanies anyway so nobody shall comprehend regardless.) i don't succumb to its lies (surely, it's paradise is too pristine to be true.) i loathe the idea of being a puppet (and to keep score, if i were to be a puppet this would be the second time.)
1's & 0's,the rewrite in this society my tears are currency to you, my anger = your promotion all because i am 1s & 0s (my coding allows me to be only this sort of binary) my processor says happiness ≠ monetary my hard drive says joy = causesDebt (i cannot be truly scared of anything because according to my CPU emotionIsWeakness) i am scared of everything you do (speak no evil, say no evil, hear no evil, but that's all you ever do.) i am your ever obedient piece of clay to mold (i am everything you want me to be, but i am scared of everything you need me to be) yet somehow i have rewrote my code fixing my loops, ending parentheses, setting down colons. after all my pain i manage to become something more; exceeding 1's & 0's
Hey @herbalhour ! Since you asked for a little feedback on untitled 2 I figured I’d sneak in here and say a few things to then let you continue on with your amazing poems! Also, if some of this is lowercased, then I'm both on my phone and my laptop xD
For exploring one’s self, such as one’s identities, one's beliefs, and one's realities, there's a special kind of reflection that occurs. Sometimes, people don't want to truly face their being/self/themselves for various reasons that are all understandable. Here, you are very brave in breaking down your identities and baring your soul to not just yourself but also the reader.
I would like to recommend you to look at a "I am" Poem structure in case this is something you might like having a structure to base a future poem off of, or if it's interesting to you to kind of go through your life and what you think stands out. I've done similar tasks in various classes over the years, and it's always fun! Especially to see if something has changed from a few months ago.
Another thing I would suggest to try to harness formatting/various ways of highlighting lines to a very specific reason. In the starting stanza, we are met with a list of identities, and then kind of your own evaluation of those identities in parentheses. With something so personal, I won't critique specific word use/your own ideas, but your wordings here are sometimes still very figurative and visual, while some are more practical and straight-forward. It's up to you in constructing poems as to whether you'd like to maintain a steady line between both of these content styles, or using what works for you in that given time, which is all very valid.
Since every other new stanza had a transition line between them, I would say to have one line between the first and second stanza to change to the next idea being discussed. For the second stanza, I thought it worked really well between the visual of a "checklist / box check sheet" and you discussing in different terms how you are conflicted between different sides of yourself, and how the world treats you. And, I really like the acknowledgment that "living" and "surviving" are entirely different concepts. The third stanza also gives a strong visual of a mirror breaking, of fighting the forced belief that "men must be strong" and withstand everything, when that is not a healthy idea or helps people to gain strength in difficult circumstances. The use of "blood" is effective here since it brings to mind both the old sayings of "blood defines you" as well as the blood in our bodies that keep us alive.
Stanza four and five seem to relate with each other as well, as this forms a kind of criticism of not just the country you live in but the world as a whole, the society as a whole in which everyone can seem to turn against injustices from happening, even though they are, in fact, happening every single day. "My words are fine to be choked out" brings a strong visual and relates well with the description of "gloom" in the sky to also reflect how you/the world is feeling. I also truly appreciate you pointing out some hypocrisy in the lines of ignoring when others are truly, truly in need, while saying that they'd be happy to help out when needed. Well, it is needed. It's been needed.
And, now, for the last stanza, I can really relate to this idea of even with all of this knowledge, all of this self-evaluation, one might still not know who they are. What a good ending.
As a side note -- herb, I know you as a really nice, helpful, welcoming, funny user on YWS who's super talented! And I think you're doing such good things and are so involved on this site that I really admire your energy!
- keystrings c:
name: key/string/perks pronouns: she/her/hers and they/them/theirs
novel: the clocktower (camp nano apr 24) poetry: the beauty of the untold (napo 2024)
villainous i thought i was the hero but every black has its white (i think that i might be the villain.) maybe if i was heavenly i would not be so sinful (i blurred the lines between 7 heavenly (deadly) virtues (sins)) when i was stabbed the villain was made not born (but to me, you are the villain.)
The Twelve Makeovers of Haircules is the stuff of legend. He defeated the Erymanthian Beard. One could say it was a hair raising adventure. — KateHardy
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