I.
I sit hopelessly in my prized
folding chair. The sun
brings out my freckles
and the dry grass crinkles
between my sandaled toes.
We all ponder the wiles of
youth (and lost youth).
Her honeyed curls promenade
‘round the casket. She has never
left us. We can only smile.
II.
I stand this time. The wind
cuts at my face. I take shelter
from its touch in the warmth
of another. My toes, clumsy,
ache in my boots.
A hasty remembrance for
a lengthy existence. It is
a shame we think as much,
yet she was as cold as her corpse
and never so pretty.
Never will I say
who I loved more.
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
I rather liked this one; I think its strongest point was the imagery; I could really feel the sun and the cold. Those situations were described really well.
It seems, though, that everything from "A hasty remembrance" on was a little overdone or just flat. It sounded like a wrap-up, like, "This is what happened. This is what she was like. *is archaic*"
Perhaps you should go more into who the mysterious "she" is and what actually happened. I felt like something in there should have pulled me in to connect with that story, but it was too abstract and didn't really connect.
Nitpicky things:
I.
I sit hopelessly in my [s]prized[/s]
folding chair. The sun
brings out my freckles
and [s]the[/s] dry grass crinkles
between [s]my[/s] sandaled toes.
We all ponder the wiles of
youth, [s]([/s]and lost youth[s])[/s].
Her honeyed curls promenade
‘round the casket. She [s]has[/s] never
left us. We can only smile.
II.
I stand this time. The wind
cuts at my face. I take shelter
[s]from its touch [/s]in the warmth
of another. My toes, clumsy,
ache in my boots.
A hasty remembrance for
a lengthy existence[s].[/s]: It is
a shame we think as much,
yet she was as cold as her corpse
and never so pretty.
Never will I say
who I loved more.
Lovely imagery, though, lovely.
Colleen
It's a poem, and please, for God's sake, don't write for other people to enjoy it unless you're making money off of it.
"I will never say who I loved more."
Otherwise, it's just weak.
Just find a better way to say this, it's far too redundant. "It made me think of APPLES. and lost APPLES." Not exactly the same thing, no, I understand you mean the youth that has been lost, that could have lived -- but it cuts it pretty close.
I like how you reference back and forth to your toes. It's very human. But toes also represent youth and innocence, some foolishness and naivity, so .. well, it's definitely different.
I also enjoyed how you broke this up. Sectioning poems off is old-fashioned, but not used as often as you'd like to think.
This didn't have any dramatic rise -- Incandescence is correct. With that point, I can easily say that this is not dramatic poetry. Possibly lyric. In any case, my attention span is long enough to appreciate the beauty without the drama.
lol incan, i love that...
its funny
This thing... is it a poem? I dont know. It confuzzled me. I AM easily confuzzled but I dont like poems that do that. If this WAS a poem. It was so weird... I cant even find a way to discribe it... so ill leave that for what incan said and ill be on my way.
Next time maybe youll write something for poeple to enjoy
Trident -
This is, pardon the pun, dead on arrival.
Part I is overall a collection of cliched elements, and Part II provides no resolution, but that's OK because you haven't established any tension to resolve.
If you indended for this work to confuse and ultimately bore the reader, you succeeded. If your intentions were other than that, you failed.
Best,
Brad