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Young Writers Society



The Handkerchief

by CastlesInTheSky


My first attempt at poetry in years. It's probably terrible. ^_^ Tear apart, ya?

___________________________

The wind is suspiciously strong tonight, the rain
dancing with the charming darkness in
a sly and sinister step.

The stones which you trust with
uncertain footing are slippery, a pathway down
into the thrashing ocean below.

The branches of desperate trees slaughtered
slowly by the crushing atmosphere, while the roots
battle to stay in the ground.

Lost voices
echoing back and forth like
the hypnotizing lull of
an artist’s paintbrush.

Quickly down the scowling cliff face,
half stumbling, half falling,
eyes ablaze with
melancholy anticipation;
memories.

An embroidered handkerchief with
red thread lovingly patterned in the creases,
soaking thread.

You dart in and out of
rotting brown bushes,
brittle and dead, simply shadows
of the previous summer light.
You think of nothing, see nothing but
the sharp urgency of thunder jolts you.

The angry ocean,
its surface convulsing like
rippling dragon scales, as the beast
takes flight.
The tide sucking the beach with fangs,
an insatiable vampire , water dripping
onto the silent cemetery
of the helpless shore.

Black, swirling water
suffocates your ankles.


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Sun Nov 30, 2008 9:45 pm
CastlesInTheSky says...



Thankyou very much Squall, you rock for reading all my stuff.
I will definitely re-do it, wouldn't want to miss that gold star opportunity. :wink:
Thanks again. You are very helpful, as always.
Sarah
xxx




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Sat Nov 29, 2008 1:03 pm
Squall wrote a review...



Hey Castles.

Lost voices

echoing back and forth like

the hypnotizing lull of

an artist’s paintbrush.


Does the sound of a brush being applied to a canvas produce a sound that draws parallels to that of voices? It doesn't actually make a noise loud enough to be detected by our ears.

Quickly down the scowling cliff face,

half stumbling, half falling,

eyes ablaze with

melancholy anticipation;

memories.


What memories? How does it trigger them?

An embroidered handkerchief with

red thread lovingly patterned in the creases,

soaking thread.


Why not put this at the start? The title of the poem is "Handkerchief"so it should be about the story of this handkerchief. You want the reader to be able to identify with the focus of the poem at the start so they they will be able to relate to it and slowly get closer with it. Introducing it in the middle of the poem however will reduce the likelihood of the handkerchief from gathering momentum to help drive the point home.

Black, swirling water

suffocates your ankles.


How can it suffocate someone's ankles if they do not function like lungs do?

The angry ocean,

its surface convulsing like

rippling dragon scales, as the beast

takes flight.

The tide sucking the beach with fangs,

an insatiable vampire , water dripping

onto the silent cemetery

of the helpless shore.


I think this has to be my favourite part out of the whole poem. It actually has some sort of relevance with the "handkerchief" and does express some sort of idea.

Overall impressions:

The problem that I had with the poem is the individual stanzas themselves. Each stanza seems to focus on different sections of the environment rather than the handkerchief itself (with the exception of stanza 6 and 8 ). Those stanza show more of the effects of the weather itself. It does create quite a strong picture of a stormy seaside but so what? What are you trying to say about the weather?Or more to the point... how does it relate to the handkerchief? Stanza 8 seems like something that you should salvage as it expresses the idea of how cruel the beach can be and would even go as far as to wash away an innocent handkerchief.

Maybe you should focus on the conflict between the handkerchief and the beach. The handkerchief itself is an innocent and loyal object. Many would use one to wipe their tears away since its so soft and gentle. But is it fair for someone to throw it away and allow it to be washed away by the vicious tides?

As a poet, I highly suggest that you should answer that question. Don't use words to describe the environment unless you are using it for symbolism. Focus on a specific idea or theme throughout the poem.

I really want to see this poem once it's been edited Castles. It has potential and I really want to be able to gold star this :D Good luck!

Andy.




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Thu Nov 27, 2008 3:03 pm
CastlesInTheSky says...



Thanks for reading, Princess.
I'm flattered you think it's the 'best' but it seriously isn't, compared to some of the amazing poetry on here. I'm very amateur, but I do try my best, and so thankyou for reading & enjoying it.
Sarah
xxx




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Wed Nov 26, 2008 11:50 pm
Princess wrote a review...



Wow Sarah!!! Wow wow wow.... I am seriously impressed... This is one of the best....No.. The best Poem i had ever read.. I'm afraid I can give you no better critique on this.. I pride myself on my critiques, but i have none for you today.. :D :D :D :D This is great!!!!!

I loved it!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D :D :D

*Princess*




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Wed Nov 26, 2008 9:16 pm



No way Sarah XD :) I have no poetic-ness (not even a word but oh well!) in me. It's more like a rant than a poem ! (mine)
x




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Wed Nov 26, 2008 9:15 pm
CastlesInTheSky says...



Aww thankyou so much for reading Kirsten.
Though your skills in poetry far outweigh mine, anyone reading Truth could see that. XD
xxx




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Wed Nov 26, 2008 5:46 pm
Lost_in_dreamland wrote a review...



The wind is suspiciously strong tonight, the rain

dancing with the charming darkness in

a sly and sinister step.
Oh Sarah! You dare to say you're not good at poetry. You lie, you lie! You're way too modest Sarah.


The stones which you trust with

uncertain footing are slippery, a pathway down

into the thrashing ocean below.
I love this part ;)


The branches of desperate trees slaughtered

slowly by the crushing atmosphere, while the roots

battle to stay in the ground.
Amazing.


Lost voices

echoing back and forth like

the hypnotizing lull of

an artist’s paintbrush.
Perfection.


Quickly down the scowling cliff face,

half stumbling, half falling,

eyes ablaze with

melancholy anticipation;

memories.
W.O.W !


An embroidered handkerchief with

red thread lovingly patterned in the creases,

soaking thread.
You are amazing Sarah.


You dart in and out of

rotting brown bushes,

brittle and dead, simply shadows

of the previous summer light.

You think of nothing, see nothing but

the sharp urgency of thunder jolts you.



The angry ocean,

its surface convulsing like

rippling dragon scales, as the beast

takes flight.

The tide sucking the beach with fangs,

an insatiable vampire , water dripping

onto the silent cemetery

of the helpless shore.



Black, swirling water

suffocates your ankles.
Fantastic :)

Sarah, you are amazing at poetry! Write more! It's simply amazing. I don't really know why I review your pieces, you're so amazing I must be of no help at all just telling you how amazing you are. But you are.

Never doubt that you can write poetry cause seriously, t'is amazing !

-Kirsten x




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Mon Nov 24, 2008 9:34 pm
Juniper wrote a review...



Wow! I stared at this poem for like 30 minutes, re-reading and getting lost in it.

There's nothing I can change, honestly, and in my opinion it was perfect! I am a very picky person when it comes to poetry, so that's why I leave off reviewing it so often (so that I don't ruin the meaning of a poem). There is nothing I can tear apart here! It was brilliant!!!

I couldn't write something like this to save my life :). Mine always come out deformed-- but this?? This was... like... (can't find the word...) amazing.


Do write more poetry! And it is indeed hard to believe that you haven't touched poetry in so long! One would certainly think that this is a frequent art of yours!

Keep writing!
June




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Sun Nov 23, 2008 7:56 pm
CastlesInTheSky says...



Wow thankyou guys!
I really wasn't expecting that, since I haven't written poems for such a long time.
Thankyou for reading! ^_^




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Sun Nov 23, 2008 4:03 pm
moon jumper wrote a review...



Wow. That was really good. When I read it, it had a gentle rocking motion for me. I like it. Scratch that. I love it!

You have a way with words. The descriptions were amazing.

That was great. Now start writing more!

I'm here if you need a reader.

~jumper





What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal.
— Albert Pines