Gender: Unspecified Location: With Cinderella and the 9 Dwarves
Where the pain ends - Bardock's Poetry
Hey, I wrote poetry for a while now, and finally I found the courage to post it. Lots of it is very, very dark and nothing for people that are easily offended. I will first post some of my earlier work.
Flame of Darkness and Love
It burns in my heart
The fire I can't stop
Can someone please call a cop
Though I have no chance to get help as I lost my ID card
The anger I feel is undescribable
I fear for my life
Why does it always happen to me
Am I cursed
Night has set and so has my love
I am not able to move
When will this horrible live ever end
I feel the blade as it cuts my hand
Comments are welcome but only good ones.
If you don't like it you just don't understand it.
Gender: Unspecified Location: With Cinderella and the 9 Dwarves
Thanks, I am glad you liked it. What was your favourite part?
This one I made when I was younger and my parents still forced me to go to church. They are both catholics.
I had to go to church today
Why did I
I do not believe
I hate Jesus
My parents made me dress nice
I looked so weak.
I wanted to wear my black Simple Plan shirt
But they didn't let me
It's all God's fault
I hate him
Only Satan will give me power.
And Johnny was mean to me again.
I can't believe I wrote this when I was just 16. I am not sure if I could even write like that now, 6 years later. Haha, I guess when Bob Dylan said "Oh I feel so much younger now I was smarter than that earlier" applies to me, too. For anyone who cares, my parents stopped after when I turned 17, once I screamed "Hail Satan" when during the communion. My brother dared me
It's choppy, and seems to convey a sense of rush in the reader. Like I'm running. I'm not saying its bad, the poem is just strange. Usually there is a story to convey, even in running poems. But this one just seems to move like those poems they read at those jazz clubs that seem to be spontaneous. I'm not criticizing as in so much explaining what I am taking from the poem. I feel like I'm running....
The book seems good, although I have never read it myself. I too have read the articles on wikipedia, and maybe one day I will indulge myself. Until then...
I like it. This one is a little more "ordered" yet I don't know how. And not in the way you and I would define ordered. It seems that there is better flow of ideas and images. As if I had fallen into Hell and this would be what I see. It works in a manner similar to a funnel where it begins with the arrival into Hell, the old adage "It'd seem heaven is an empty place, cause Hell's where everyone is" and we believe this in that hell is a place worth going to. But none are grinning and everyone’s crying. And so as we pass the empty throne of Hell, for even he who we think rules is a prisoner there, we head to our own punishment for eternity.
I don’t want to say this poem seemed childish, but this poem seemed childish. It’s not insomuch the lack of anything literarily mature, but anything mature in the poem. This may be me being prejudice on account of me being catholic (and I would completely understand the defenestration of this comment), however I failed to see anything worth remembering in this poem. Granted it posses legitimate adolescent obstacles, and perhaps in a more versed manner can it convey it as more then a “complaining” vent. As my brother would say, “would you like some cheese with that whine (wine)?”
Everyone seems to find themselves following these sentiments somewhere down the road. Isolation and individuality look as if they walk hand in hand in this poem as I interpret it to be the subject attempting to grasp at some elusion of escape. My admiration stems from a hidden understanding of the theme and an appreciation at the manner it was conveyed. Repetition contributed much to the flow and structure of this poem, but the lack of movement seemed to augment the lack of story in a good way. I mean this in that I took this more to be a description of the actual emotions and the ambience that it conveys than anything else. Granted it is like I said before, more of an opinion on what the poems mean to me then any form of criticism.
Again as the last. However it seems you were debating between a poem, a song, and the reminiscence of a good day. This conflict inhibited for me a greater understanding of both the day and the feeling of happiness by both subjects. In short this particular work (if I may now criticize) repeats the same stanzas twice making it an unexciting read, and further more drowns out the excitement of your supposed “grand-day”. On top of that, you never really explained other elements of the day that made it great. For example, everything must have seemed “sunnier” after the kiss, or the description of the “feelings” you felt. You hinder all other senses from playing a part in your poem and so all my senses are rendered inoperative during the course of my read.
In summation I applaud your courage. Your poems have a strange potential that hint to a personal style. And in such a case you should continue writing. But remember, you have more then your eyes to perceive your world. And sometimes it is these senses, not your eyes, which convey it better.
Sorry for such a long post. If you must be prejudice to what I have written, at least read the last part. It is criticism to balance out my somewhat self-centered post. I apologize for it, if that is the case. To tell you the truth, I really didn’t have much to say in regards to critique other then the cliché “it doesn’t really have structure?” or “it’s lacking composition?” or “what’s the story?” and my personal favorite, “why doesn’t it rhyme?” So I just typed my personal interpretations of the poems that if all else failed we could compare and share said interpretations. I hope this is an adequate comment.
Last edited by King of Blades on Aug 2nd, 2008 at 04:52 AM
Well then I fail to understand why you would post your poems if you want nothing but praise. Obviously some of the poems are good, but some of them aren't. Alright, they suck, but that's the point. Your poems suck so you get another person's opinion to make them better. That's like asking for a toned body but not wanting to do the exercise to get there. I really do fail to comprehend how it is you come off thinking that everyone's going to read your poems and find nothing wrong with them.
Are you that same Bardock that I used to know and love? If you are that one (that one), then I can't tell if you're flipping the bird or not. If you're not, then that doesn't mean it's bad, just that you aren't flipping the bird.
__________________ Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.