(A poem I wrote a while ago.)
Haha, wow..
You don't see me do you?
Asking that question is redundant.
Meaningless.
Thriving beneath this tangible surface lies a gem.
My only prized possesion.
That I've thrown down to you.
Time
and time
and time again.
This damned clock mocks me.
The earth turns against my wishes.
Plans and hopes crumble in my hands.
Dissipate before they even reach my being.
So why do I continue?
As each moment passes..
so does its shine.
As the sun falls each facet
of this garnished prize of mine
fades.
And foolishly I don't seek for a new light.
I crave yours.
Yours and yours alone.
A tainted sheen that's captured me.
Not in a trance, no, but in a mesmerized state of
thoughtless existence.
You infest my mind.
Plauge my actions.
My soul won't rest until this war raged for .. heh..
a milennia
parts into my favor.
But how can you win a war when the opposition has retreated
to unsurmountable heights.
No matter how diligently I press, my ascention
is deemed in vain.
A mockery am I
A warrior
denounced and left for dead
by the maiden, a sacrifice,
for whom I willingly and faithfully
my all, sacrificed.
Get out of my head.
Desist in persisting.
Ironically enough, you live your life..
Doing exactly nothing.
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
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Not true, there's a tangible surface. I'm going to explain that quote, indepth.
Poetry that thrives off of the avoidance of forms usually lacks a solid enough foundation to capture the reader with an IMAGE. Even if you are writing a poem from a characters perspective, you need a substance to chain the emotion and rhetoric to. Observe...
"My only prized possesion.
That I've thrown down to you.
Time
and time
and time again."
In it's current state, this is disconnected and does absolutely nothing for the reader.
If given the context of say...
throwing your heart like a skipping stone, and watching the waters deny your gift, this becomes a universal narrative, an emotion we've all either seen, literally, or felt, or both.
You do have a few NOUNS in your poems, but they never exist as solid things, at least not in William Carlos Williams world. You turn nouns into things by giving them more ties to the general message of your poem. You character quickly mentions a clock, tied to time, and then lets it dangle, like nothing. Expand on that clock.
Time
and time
and time again.
This damned clock mocks me,
tilting the earth with promise
of each rounded minute,
crumbling with hope in my hand."
See? It gives it something solid. Makes the metaphor stronger. Ties this to something. Ties it together.
currently, this is disconnected. As Pedro said, you gotta tie it down, because their is no poetry outside of things.
this seems more like performance piece than anything else, is that right? If you read this the right way it would be pretty powerful.
On paper its pretty forgettable, though. If you want a better paper poem, then i'd get some help from William Carlos Williams: "No poetry except in things."
There is not a single thing in your poem, and I think that things would make it better
best,