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140,135 Literary Works • 673,032 Reviews
Dreamwalker,
It is a difficult task to mediate between philosophic monologue and aesthetic experience. Here, we appear to have a poem which seeks desperately to convey message, to stress conceit and introspection - but aims to do so with explicit and nomadic language. You access a host of intangibles - your scenery is detached and you favor words like "goods" and "bads", "existential" and "special" and "poetry" - units of specification which do little to advance this poem as an aesthetic and linguistic experience. A poem, after all, is not merely an act of no-caps navel-gazing.
This piece is most compelling when you make use of the concrete. For instance, I found the line "we're curling off the page / and leaving marks on the hardwood" absolutely delightful, in large part due to the sound palette and controlled (if puzzling) poetic physics. I am less interested during stretches in which you dilly-dally in abstraction, as in stanzas two and three.
For an example of how to do this sort of poetry right (meaning, poetry in which philsophic and abstract speculation occurs, magnificently framed by situation and language), please refer to The Wild Iris by Louise Glück.
Kylan
I agree completely and wholeheartedly.
I tend to spend far too much time on the plot of a poem. The introspection, as you stated prior, and the inner tumult more so than the more metaphorical aspects of it. The start is usually where I manage to create something rather comparative between thought processes and imagery, but by the second stanza I fear I generally manage to run the well dry and sort of patter on with plot without substance, so if anything, your opinion is exceedingly accurate.
I took a look at The Wild Iris as well. It hurt. In a good way, of course, as it lacked pretention. I forget, sometimes, that one does not need to overcomplicate emotions through unnecessary dramatics to explain the beauty of feeling.
Anyways, thanks for this. I appreciate it immensely!
I agree completely and wholeheartedly.
I tend to spend far too much time on the plot of a poem. The introspection, as you stated prior, and the inner tumult more so than the more metaphorical aspects of it. The start is usually where I manage to create something rather comparative between thought processes and imagery, but by the second stanza I fear I generally manage to run the well dry and sort of patter on with plot without substance, so if anything, your opinion is exceedingly accurate.
I took a look at The Wild Iris as well. It hurt. In a good way, of course, as it lacked pretention. I forget, sometimes, that one does not need to overcomplicate emotions through unnecessary dramatics to explain the beauty of feeling.
Anyways, thanks for this. I appreciate it immensely!
This poem is wonderful. I love the wording, it evokes a sort of nostalgia, and love. The reader can sense the careful piecing of the words that slowly create a picture in their mind. This poem obviously came from the heart, which I find makes it even better.
This is just my opinion, and I don't know very much about poetry so please don't take it to heart because this is a lovely poem, but I think it was a little choppy where the lines are cut up. Also, I agree that the anyways throws the reader off.
In the end, This poem is marvelous and I hope you keep writing!
OOOOhmmmm, I love the content of the story and it also have a systematic flow, generally talking about life and what is there in though I find the title none suitable for the content below.
Otherwise, its a great story beside the chosen title.
This was simple, but as usual completely on-point and well-written. I was actually really intrigued by the title; it just sounds...I don't know...good, in that simple feely kind of way.
A few lines really stood out, "a candid splatter like ink spilled too close," "and we're not special like prose and poetry," etc., etc. I could really quote any one of your lines and it would stand on its own as a story within itself.
My only problem with this is the "anyways." Nevertheless, I love this, sincerely.
Keep writing.
A lovely poem. Your abstract imagery was balanced with the concrete, and I loved a) the title and how it relates to your message, and b) the feeling I got when I read it. It's a sort of dry sadness, truthfulness caused by maybe resignation or weariness. My favorite was:
"a haphazard mess of what could be
and we’d be okay, like this
in a world so full of goods and bads,
melting into soil where all things go to die."
At first I stumbled over "It’s not the immediate you / nor the existential I, that fills the page with words" and I had to reread before I understood that it was intentional. I think perhaps removing the comma after I would help, but I can't be sure. It isn't a large problem.
Also, when reading it I was entirely engrossed until "but tell me that story anyways." I was put off a little by the "anyways", though it doesn't ruin the poem. I liked the colloquial language in the poem so far, like "I'll" and "okay" but "anyways" pushed the envelope. I would prefer "anyway" but in the end, you're the poet, and it's your decision.
All in all, I very much like this poem, and I will look more into you work.
~Lady Lazarus