Ignorance and Witches

Hey AF!

So overall the this poem seems to be trying to take a deeper look at an aspect of humanity that not many people look at, bodies after they're gone. You as the writer take a quick juxtaposition between bones being part of humans, to bones being these eternal things that we can't really ever get rid of, as shown here "real bones crackle and crick and tap their way through infinity until people look away" and suggested through the rest of the poem. This concept that we aren't really burning people, and that we're just disintegrating their parts is something that's rather unique in this poem, but not really stuck with. Because of this, I'd like to see you get a bit less caught up in the reality of the situation and more into the idea that we are losing bones, and when that happens and how. Especially with a book that's in the time period I think The TBT was written for, you have a huge variety of how that theme can play out through the poem and that huge variety just allows for losing ourselves in what you wrote along with losing bones.

I think the key thing that's keeping this from really getting into the subject you probably were writing about at the end, is that it's not edited very much, or it's edited too much. You've taken out the emotion at the beginning. Starting out, it is very scientific. There's no person, no one thing, it's in third person past tense, and that's the scientific style. You also seem to be using bones too directly as a metaphor for something else which is hard to identify, for instance, you talk about them like they're immortal, but bones are not immortal. Bones can be broken down and dustified so to speak. It takes a long time, but when bones are cooked, they get brittle, and they chip, and when they chip, they chip down to nothing sometimes. It's not that there's nothing left, it's just that it doesn't matter any more once we get down to that state. Ashes returned to earth so to speak.

This is why I think the more interesting thing is going on at the end, when you start to get into "we" and "did they do the right thing" because I think that's really what the key to this poem is, and the preamble is just sidestepping the issue because it's hard to introduce.

To make this poem better, I'd like to see you rewrite it. See what you can do with this idea now that you've been away from it for so long. Really consider what you want to say, write it, then edit it and make that a consistent message through the poem.

I'm gonna agree with Kitty on this. The big block of text was kind of...meh. xD It really turns me off. It doesn't exactly inspire me to read what's there. And I know that other people have said that, and I don't want to beat a dead horse and just explain it to you when they've all done it so well already, but I will say that it's important for you to format this properly. Otherwise I don't feel like it's even poetry.

Also, I'm having a hard time with all the proper punctuation and lowercase words. When I think of poetry, I immediately think "format." There has to be a proper format in order for me to think of it as poetry. Poetic format creates rhythm, and you don't have either at the moment. If you ever edit this, I would suggest formatting it with punctuation in mind. What I've noticed about professional poets and their use of things like periods and semi-colons, etc. is that they only use them to separate ideas, complete thoughts, and to make that rhythm. They don't separate ideas based on where the "grammatical statement" ends. I think it would help you loads if you tried to work on that.

Ok, so this has taken me a ridiculously long time to review, and it probably came out to be a big jumbled mess. I'm listening to lullaby versions of Lady Gaga songs and it's pretty distracting. xD If you want me to expand and help you out a little more, don't hesitate to PM me!

Okay so my first thoughts about this was 'Argghhhh! I am scared of all those long lines' because long lines are really scary when they're not broken up into stanzas and as a general rule, you're better off having shorter lines and lots of stanzas. It just makes the poem more readable. My next thought was where are the capitals. Seriously, you need them. If this wasn't review day I'd be turning around right now and not even reviewing you. But anyway, on to the review...

human beings, as a general rule, have bones. [I like this statement. It's a little prosey but nice.] those bones tend to get lost over time,
but time spirals and feigns mercy so often that we may be confused. [This line is pretty meh. There's nothing poetic or generally sensible or sensational about it and you need one or the other.] yet these remains -
well, they remain. [Okay I'm going to pretend this is a short snippet of prose actually because that's how it's reading right now. If you're not sure on what poetry is, you should try reading more of it. But basically, just starting new lines before you've reached the edge of the page does not make a poem.] they stay, locked in the earth or crushed into some silly semblance
of ash that we believe was burnt, but we haven't seen what burning does to real bones.
real bones crackle and crick and tap their way through infinity until people look away [Look away is very mundane. Maybe 'turn their eyes' would be more dramatic/ effective?]
and then they disappear in a haze of smoke so we don't have to look at them any more,
but people look [Look, look, look. Find some other word!] for them so they know what just happened really just happened. they end up
asking themselves so much, did they do the right thing, was that man innocent, did the
devil end up possessing them, but in the end they don't really think, they just flop around
like goldfish that have been given five seconds to live and no brains to speak of, [Some nice imagery in these last few lines and some clever little wordings. I like.] and
their final decision is that they couldn't have done anything else. they ought to be
ashamed of themselves. they stop looking for the bones and settle with the charred wood
to say they did the right thing, that grey didn't exist when everything was black and white
and sepia brown burned everything to the core with its air of mystery, and the past was [You're getting more into it now, these lines are also pretty good, though not quite as strong.]
so much simpler that we shouldn't worry, but the lady was a witch and she needed to be burned
because otherwise people might have come in contact with her dangerous things called ideas. [The conclusion is a bit dull, a bit obvious. I'd suggest revising it.]

Overall

Okay so you've got some nice lines here but it didn't leap out, not in the way that The Book Thief does and it was hard to say whether this is poetry, prose or something else. I'd probably file it under purple prose in which case you should lay it out like prose with paragraphs and such to break it up. If you really want it to be poetry though then go away and read more poems, get a feel for their rhythms and where the right places to make line breaks are.

I did like this somewhat. I think that there are phrases worth saving here and there but you need something stronger running through to tie it all together and you need more sensationalism. You need to make use of plosives and end stopped lines and all the poetic techniques out there that help tell a reader how a piece should be read, what emotions they should feel. It's just a little flat and two dimensional at the moment but it does have potential.

So I'll wish you luck and feel free to pm me if you have any questions,

Heather xxx

Thank you both. ^^

It's actually not part of a story, even though a few of my poems come out like that. It might end up having something to do with one of my stories when I get it all together, but right now - no.

And I know it would read better if it was separated in stanzas, but I'll tackle that when I'm not sick. Right now I'm having trouble just thinking of edits.

Ha! You, too? I'm an avid fan of Harry Potter and other British lit so, even though I live in Florida, I spell things the British way. Lack of Brit slang notwithstanding, my teachers still make a bit of a fuss when it comes down to it, and I have to write with American English for my other classes. But thank you! ^^

Interesting. It was captivating, but the format was weird. You should have separated it into stanzas.

human beings, as a general rule, have bones. those bones tend to get lost over time,
but time spirals and feigns mercy so often that we may be confused. yet these remains -
well, they remain. they stay, locked in the earth or crushed into some silly semblance
of ash that we believe was burnt, but we haven't seen what burning does to real bones.
real bones crackle and crick and tap their way through infinity until people look away
and then they disappear in a haze of smoke so we don't have to look at them any more,
but people look for them so they know what just happened really just happened. they end up
asking themselves so much, did they do the right thing, was that man innocent, did the
devil end up possessing them, but in the end they don't really think, they just flop around
like goldfish that have been given five seconds to live and no brains to speak of, and
their final decision is that they couldn't have done anything else. they ought to be
ashamed of themselves. they stop looking for the bones and settle with the charred wood
to say they did the right thing, that grey didn't exist when everything was black and white
and sepia brown burned everything to the core with its air of mystery, and the past was
so much simpler that we shouldn't worry, but the lady was a witch and she needed to be burned
because otherwise people might have come in contact with her dangerous things called ideas.

that grey didn't exist when everything was black and white
and sepia brown burned everything to the core with its air of mystery,

Really interesting. Is this part of a story? Or just scattered thoughts? Either way, it definitely grabbed my attention. I loved it, and I actually want you to write more!