z

Young Writers Society



Fog Around the Mountain Top

by mizz-iceberg


Large and majestic,
Beautiful, commanding,
Resting on the earth.
Their wisdom budding in the leaves,
The grass, the trees that climb up their sides,
Towering up, up, above the clouds.
Pay homage to this elevated peek,
This regal loft.

Hear the loon cry,
The owl hoot,
The leaves rustle,
The rain drops patter,
Drumming on the green veined leaves.
Hear the breeze murmur,
As it passes through,

From your plastic bubble,
You think the mountain sits silent,
But approach it,
And give it respect,
Open your heart
And listen.

The birds chatter to themselves,
The air whispers of adventure and mystery,
There is earnestness and sincerity in the damp dirt.

The fog does not stay silent,
Always lifting, moving, shifting,
Crystallized vapour.
Let your heart soar with the mountain top,
The peak rising up from amidst the opaque mist.
The mountain watches over its children,
They thrive upon its arms, forearms and chest.

The mist swirls, and the curtain drops.
You’ve turned away from the window.


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User avatar
52 Reviews


Points: 890
Reviews: 52

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Mon May 18, 2009 3:58 am
chipsandguacamollie wrote a review...



mizz-iceberg wrote:Large and majestic,
Beautiful, commanding,
Resting on the earth.
Their wisdom budding in the leaves,
The grass, the trees that climb up their sides,
Towering up, up, above the clouds.
Pay homage to this elevated peek,
This regal loft.

Hear the loon cry,
The owl hoot,
The leaves rustle,
The rain drops patter,
Drumming on the green veined leaves. 'Leaves' is a little redundant in this line.
Hear the breeze murmur,
As it passes through.

From your plastic bubble, Plastic bubble? This confused me. I'm not sure what you mean by this, so try to expand on it.
You think the mountain sits silent,
But approach it,
And give it respect,
Open your heart
And listen.

The birds chatter to themselves,
The air whispers of adventure and mystery,
There is earnestness and sincerity in the damp dirt. I like this line and the one before it. They seem to flow nicely.

The fog does not stay silent,
Always lifting, moving, shifting,
Crystallized vapour. This line just seems out of place.
Let your heart soar with the mountain top,
The peak rising up from amidst the opaque mist.
The mountain watches over its children,
They thrive upon its arms, forearms and chest. Arms and forearms seems somewhat repetitive. Could you change one to something else?

The mist swirls, and the curtain drops.
You’ve turned away from the window.


On the whole, I don't really like this poem. The line length seems to vary too much, which can be pulled off, but in this poem it doesn't seem to flow quite right. In some places, the flow is very good, like in the fourth stanza, but most others it is choppy or just odd. Some of the stanzas need to be broken up more as well, because there are an almost confusing amount of commas. The concept of this poem has potential, but it needs to be trimmed up, because it is a bit confusing. I think you should keep working on this, because it can be made better, but it does need a good bit of work. I think it has some great ideas, and I would like to see them worked out into a masterpiece!




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387 Reviews


Points: 27175
Reviews: 387

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Mon May 18, 2009 1:46 am
Kylan wrote a review...



mizz-iceberg --

This piece looked lonely. And you've critiqued stuff of mine before. Here's to returning favors.

Anyway, this is respectable. It's not particularly memorable and it kind of sinks under its own weight, but you definately have a few gems hidden away here. I particularly enjoyed passages like, "Pay homage to this elevated peek / This regal loft" and "The mountain watches over its children / They thrive upon its arms, forearms and chest." Tidbits like these save this poem from middling dullness. It is obvious you have a knack for stringing together pretty phrases and words; now you just need to become consistent.

I found too many boring words used. The first six lines of stanza 1 are snoozers. I abhor words like "beautiful" and "large" and "majestic" when used in poetry. These words are confining, constricting. They bind your poem to the ground. When writing poetry, concentrate not on the "plot" but on saying whatever you're saying in a new and innovative way. The language you use should be invigorating, exotic. Strive for more imagery. Avoid, in your case, the first word that comes to your head. Dig further. Each word in a poem must be carefully considered. Each word matters. This is why composing a poem is so much more difficult and delicate than composing, say, a short story. A short story is taken as a conglomeration of words. A poem is taken word by word. Make each one count. Waste not, want not.

I'll point out the lines that are unispiring and boring for your editing pleasure:

Large and majestic,
Beautiful, commanding,
Resting on the earth.
Their wisdom budding in the leaves,
The grass, the trees that climb up their sides,
Towering up, up, above the clouds.

...

The owl hoot,
The leaves rustle,
The rain drops patter,

...

Hear the breeze murmur,
As it passes through,

...

The birds chatter to themselves,
The air whispers of adventure and mystery,

...

The fog does not stay silent,
Always lifting, moving, shifting,
Crystallized vapour.
Let your heart soar with the mountain top,
The peak rising up from amidst the opaque mist.

...

The mist swirls,

...



Good luck.

-Kylan





I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.
— Markus Zusak, The Book Thief