z

Young Writers Society



icicle

by emotion_less


you have to be worse to get better
but waiting sometimes is a long time.

and sometimes, all you feel is the cold
when you wake up in the morning.
it is because the snow you waited for
all last afternoon and all last night
has creeped by you discreetly.

the frozen tree branches will still wait for you, though.

and sometimes, it is best to listen
instead of creating the very best,
like that feel-good song you just heard
with an acoustic guitar twanging perfectly,
and it made you feel like singing all the words,
even though you didn't know any of them.

when you breathe, you can see the white puffs,
and sometimes, you have to smile to thaw the ice.


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Sat Nov 26, 2005 11:13 am
emotion_less says...



Okay. Thanks for the comments.




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Fri Nov 25, 2005 4:28 pm
Incandescence wrote a review...



The first couplet is a chicken/egg prologue that accomplishes nothing towards the end of the poem. You could easily scrap it and have a much better poem.

The first strophe does not make sense in conjunction with that next sentence: It is cold, it snowed while you were sleep, BUT cold branches are still waiting for you! I mean to say: do branches usually snap off in the cold weather? What makes these branches so special and so fragile to the conditions of nature? You need to answer these questions or get rid of that sentence.

The second strophe uses a metaphor that does not seem in unison with the end-game of the rest of the poem at all. It's out-of-place, granted that the emotion expressed there is in-line with everything else. Still, I wonder: What does this have to do with anything...?

The second/last couplet is awful. You present something everyone knows (yawn) and then try to sound poetic by implementing abstraction: "you have to smile to thaw the ice." This is incomprehensible and you have no working metaphor throughout the poem to link it back up or to discern any kind of meaning.

Ultimately, this is a poem that has directional force and magnitude, but the expression is off -- and by a long shot.




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Thu Nov 24, 2005 10:30 pm
Fireweed says...



nice!! i dont think the 4th stanza is out of place at all. its the best part in my opinion. i also like the last line alot, it feels very complete. this is sweet, simple, and very truthful. nice work!!




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Thu Nov 24, 2005 10:06 pm
emotion_less says...



Thanks for the suggestions and comments. I'd like to know... Is the fourth stanza out of place? Really would like some more feedback to this. Thanks in advance.




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Thu Nov 24, 2005 4:42 pm
Elephant wrote a review...



It seems a trend here, using the allusions and imagery of the cold.

Here it goes...

you have to be worse to get better - I am not sure I like the verb 'be' I think it would be better if it was 'have to get worse'
but waiting sometimes is a long time. - sometimes is superfluous, I feel it would read better without it

and sometimes, all you feel is the cold
when you wake up in the morning. - I would change it to when you wake in the morning
it is because the snow you waited for
all last afternoon and all last night - I would get rid of the 'all's
has creeped by you discreetly. - change the tense of creeped to 'crept'

the frozen tree branches will still wait for you, though. though, another superfluous word, but I like the placement of this line as well as the 'frozen tree branches...' imagery.

and sometimes, it is best to listen
instead of creating the very best, - the first two lines of this stanza are confusing I would rephrase them.
like that feel-good song you just heard
with an acoustic guitar twanging perfectly, - twanging, nice word choice
and it made you feel like singing all the words,
even though you didn't know any of them. I know what you are trying to say but I'm not sure I like these last lines.

when you breathe, you can see the white puffs,
and sometimes, you have to smile to thaw the ice. - perfect ending

To recap

I liked the poem especially the ending, but I feel changes could be made.

Hope this helps.

-El-





We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.
— Ernest Hemingway