To Surrender

I'm a bit different in my reviewing styles than Noni down there, so please take any criticism with a grain of salt. Poetry is, by no means, something easily learnt, and can take so many different styles and patterns that finding one that conveys the wants and wishes in which took place during the said attempt would be rather hard to do so. Mind you, there is no greater way to learn than as what Noni stated below. But criticism is key, too.

So let's be completely honest.

Have you ever considered writing a blog?

I don't mean to be contrite, but this is a lot of raw emotion. A lot of the power that more flowery poetry lacks, but lacking in the flesh and blood that poetry needs. Its as if, in more of a case of wanting to use poetry as a therapeutic measure than a conveyance of interesting thought processes and imagery, you forgot that you were writing a poem and just sort of went 'have at thee!' rather than spending the time trying to dream up pictures and phrases and oddities that would mask and make subtle the things that you feel and the things that you wish the world to understand.

But poetry is beauty. Through and through. Poetry is image and word and simile and metaphor. It's the way in which the words roll and flex and fall together in such a sequence that the sound feels as the emotion would. Words become such an ally that it's almost imperative you use them to their fullest extent. And when you write poetry as if you're writing a blog entry, you lose that one bit of livelihood that comes from poetry that you cannot find in prose.

Everything here, I could find in prose.

You see, poetry is, often times, multifaceted. That's why emotion is so easily produced and yet so vivid and picturesque when one deciphers. The images substitute as a way of connection emotion to beauty. And that, even in the most ugly of emotions, beauty is still an extreme part. Like the way a ceiling fan's blades swing briskly, cutting heat and air as a sheet of paper through flesh. This imagery is haughty and often a bit morbid, but you compare and you can see the fan. You can see the edge of that paper cutting skin.

But how can one possible see 'each day is always the same'?

I want you to take this emotion and channel it. It's a long, steady process and one in which takes plenty of time and patience to do so, but one must learn to crawl before they can walk. And walk before they can run. In this case, as much as the prose is quite visible within this, the poetry is not, and I want to see that desperately.

So I agree with Noni. I say keep the passion but rid yourself of the rest. Start with a blank screen, a cup of coffee, and a thought process. One that will fragment on it's own if you give it the time to do so.

~Walker

Warning, no frills review below.

This poem certainly isn't the best poem I've seen. In fact, it's more like a chunk of prose. Really, there's not even a hint at poetic structure, no poetic feel to the words, and the picture presented is so very much 'told' that even the novelists would be ashamed. But of course, this is YWS, so we're not here to tell you how bad your writing is, we're here to help you improve it.

In my humble opinion, I'd scrap all but the idea behind this poem. Because that is what you need - A fresh start on your understanding of poetry. Next time one of the famed workshops, particularly for poetry, is on, you should really try to attend or at least look over the doc or titanpad or wherever it is that it is held. You can really learn a lot from those things.

Another thing you could do is go read and review other people's poetry. Not only does it help them, but it also helps you to really pick out what makes a good or bad poem. To start you off, here is a truly magnificent poem that could help you understand what real and wonderful free-verse poetry is like.

There's quite a lot I could go on about, but if you want help rewriting or a review on another poem, feel free to PM me or leave a message on my wall.

- noni (== )<