The Others

by LaceyDreadth
  • October 24, 2010
  • Poetry
  • Dramatic

Of fear, of pain we cry,
pointing fingers at anything, anyone,
except the mirror’s face:
the leaders,
the half-forgotten dead,
the teenager remaining ignorant.

The fires, the blood—
so much of it—
spilled together,
none of it on our hands.
what belongs there—
food, Money, Comfort—
cannot be shared with those without.

We stare at this hunger, this poverty,
with full hands locked in vaults,
screaming that because of suffering,
there cannot be God.
Of laughter, of smiles,
we whisper;
unless, of course,
another’s light is—seems—brighter than our own.

In bullet proof glass we keep them,
next to plaques of lies
we still must tell even now.
our accomplishments in bold trophy cases,
demanding grudging compliments.
Our x-rays we hide in musty cells with long-lost keys.
the lock is picked by lurking jackals,
embellishments are forced on rotting skeletons.

Of this I speak with needle-struck eyes and flame-licked hands.
with a small number piercing a door,
avoided by a people hidden behind nooses,
camouflaged as silk ties
with their army of frightened sheep.

We run against highway’s flow,
fighting boxer-glove laws
and knife edged hate.

We call for arms,
but only butterfly screams reach the waiting ears,
sashed beneath a tide of hyena undertones.
Doing battle with love-laced pens
snd composition streaked pages.
Statues of men bar the way
and we make another.

With beggars hearts,
and Samaritans hands,
we, the others, see your ways
and deny you.

Comments & reviews · 3
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User avatar
SilentRain
Review
SilentRain wrote a review · Wed Oct 27, 2010 2:14 am

Hello!! So, I really liked this, I found it had a nice flow and it never once seemed tedeous or anything of that nature.
So, here are my little nit- picks. (Sorry for the terable spelling, I have no spell cheak and I am terable at spelling, which you will see...)

Blue- what I think could change to make the poem, in my opinion, better.
Red- Things that MUST be changed to be grammerly correct.
Pick/Purple- thinks I really like
Green- Additional comments

Of fear, of pain we cry, #0000FF "><< here, it seems kind off akward, "Of fear, of pain" these they need something that links them together maybe a ; after fear, or "and" or "or" after fear... I don't know, just wanted to point that out.
#FF0000 ">Pointing fingers at anything, anyone, #FF0000 "><< Capitilize!
except the mirror’s face:
the leaders,
the half-forgotten dead,
the teenager#FF0000 ">s remaining ignorant. #FF0000 ">Adding the s makes it plural and that adds to the effect your trying to get at.


I like this beginning.

The fires, the blood—
so much of it—
spilled together,
none of it on our hands. #FF00FF ">Love these four lines!
#FF0000 ">What belongs there— #FF0000 ">Capitilize
food, Money, #FF0000 ">comfort— #FF0000 ">Lower case it
cannot be shared with those without.


This is great!

We stare at this hunger, this poverty,
with full hands locked in vaults,
screaming that because of suffering,
there cannot be God. #FF00FF "><< Love these four lines as well
Of laughter #FF0000 ">and of smiles, #FF0000 ">And sould go here, when you use them at the begin of a sentence, in the middle, it needs nothing, with "this hunger, this poverty," in the first line of this stanza, it works because it is in the middle, but in the beginning, it needs something to link the two...

we whisper;
unless, of course,
another’s light is#0000FF ">—seems—brighter than our own. #0000FF ">I think this can just be removed, but that is only my opinion...


In bullet proof glass we keep them,
next to plaques of lies
we still must tell even now.
#FF0000 ">Our accomplishments in bold trophy cases, #FF0000 "><< Caps it
demanding grudging compliments.
Our x-rays we hide in musty cells with long-lost keys.
#FF0000 ">the lock is picked by lurking jackals, #FF0000 "><< Caps it
embellishments are forced on rotting skeletons.


Not much to say about this other then that it too is wonderful!

#0000FF ">Of this I speak
with needle-struck eyes
and flame-licked hands. << I think that the flow would work a lot better if you made that one line into three, like this...
#FF0000 ">with a small number piercing a door, #FF0000 "><< Caps it.
avoided by a people hidden behind nooses,
camouflaged as silk ties
with their army of frightened sheep.


I like here how you campared people to sheep, like the shepherd and the sheep that follow him.

We call for arms,
but only butterfly screams reach the waiting ears,
#FF0000 ">sashed beneath a tide of hyena undertones. #FF0000 ">Should this be "Stashed" I think I spelled that right.. Oh well, cheak the spelling here...
Doing battle with love-laced pens
#FF0000 ">and composition streaked pages. #FF0000 "><< was "s" should be "a"
Statues of men #FF0000 ">bar the way #FF0000 "><< Should be Bare, as in a load to bare?? Nor bar, like drinks at the bar??
and we make another.


Another awe-stricking stanza. (trying to use differant words I can spell)

With beggars hearts,
and Samaritans hands,
we, the others, see your ways
and deny you.


Love the ending!

Over all I thought this was an exalint poem!! I love the theme and the way you made your point! It flowed pretty good, other then at a few places that can eaisaly be fixed. This was very enjoyable, I liked the metaphors and the imagrey...

Hope this helps,

~Rain~

User avatar
ZaddieCaso
Review
ZaddieCaso wrote a review · Wed Oct 27, 2010 12:12 am

Hey Lacey, I'm Izzy and I'll be giving you a quick review today.

Just remember to keep up those reviews. You should always be reviewing at least twice as many works as you have published on this site, if we didn't have people doing that no one would get any feedback on their work!

To be honest I thought this was a little jumbled and I didn't understand much of it, though that might just be me and the fact that it it 1 am. However there were some phrases here I loved, such as;

Of this I speak with needle-struck eyes and flame-licked hands.


and

but only butterfly screams reach the waiting ears,


and

With beggars hearts,


I like this lines, and can understand them but together with the rest of your poem I can't make out any of it. There are too many ideas here that they are all mixed together into something I don't think the general reader will be able to understand.

The good thing about this poem is all the fantastic imagery you have here, so many phrases and abstract concepts just waiting to come together to make a fantastic poem. What I suggest you do is go back and try to write this in a clearer way, then repost it and everyone can edit it properly.

I hope this helped.


Izzy xx



Light griefs are loquacious, but the great are dumb.
— Seneca