Wonderful. I was looking through some of the old posts, and yours was advice that really did help me (if not then, certainly now) in my writing style. I still have a long way to go, but thanks for your "mentorship" along the way.
Long and winded epic poetry is quite difficult to do, but you should at least try to keep the cadence flowing and fluid...the theme and thematic is somewhat haphazard and goes in too many directions and at times does not compliment each other. The use of of "he" twice on one line shows a lack of creativity and "point" and disappoint" leaves the reader not much to desire and shows that you may have given that one a lot of thought in order for it to rhyme. Other than that...it was a good effort, but then again who am I to say?
The poem should have a simple overview of the moon. It rises and it falls. The poem turns though, much like a magnification, to describe particular parts of its journey and the places it sees. No one particular image is any more detailed than the other. Some ambiguity (granted probably the cause of the haphazardness) is intentional. You should be able to "see" what I'm trying to describe, but not explicitly. I leave some of the images up for you to imagine. If that causes incontinuity and makes it difficult to follow, duly noted. For the next poem maybe I wont incorporate as much or perhaps more detailed descriptions (maybe both!).
I can't really say the "he" is a lack of creativity. I didn't want to personify the moon any more than a celestial journeyer. Granted engendering him was my romantic side bleeding through, so if anything the "he" is more personal than a lack of creativity (intended vs. forced). But I do see what you're saying, and the point/disappoint rhyme reference is certainly something that can be approved.
A person more than welcome to critique my poems. I will look at some revisions based on what you have said. Truly, I am very grateful for your input. I am not surrounded (IRL) by many people who appreciate poetry let alone know how to criticize constructively. Though many would think it stinging, I long more for points of improvement than the praise given at the end of a reading. Then again, who am I to say.
Popping this here for your perusal, with hopes you remember me and my pathetic poetry.
Years tick by; and Legends
Both young and old, have
Passed through our commune.
Heralded by the memories;
Stories and rumours.
One quote or another.
In time they have gone.
Forgotten. Locked away in
Archives of the past.
There is hope.
New Legends are born;
Joining the ranks of those few
In our own rights;
We all, are
-Kevin Traynor (Jedireaper)
I swear I was writing a different poem by the end of that. It reads like two halves of seperate poems, joined together inelegantly.
A long time have I waited for this, my little green friend!
Last edited by Jedireaper on Jul 6th, 2011 at 11:58 PM
I caught a glimpse of that day, Grandpa,
When you held my brother on your lap.
A birthday party, or some idle evening,
You were always our company until we went to bed.
Sometimes we got away breaking curfew.
Back then we called it bed time, but you know already.
You were our marvelous excuse,
To break rules,
But above all,
Now all the patriarchs are gone.
You seem to be dropping like flies…
You’ve withered away
Like old forgotten mother’s day flowers…
You are, literally, ash once again…
I can’t quite seem to paint your death beautifully.
I guess there is no beauty in death.
Dichotomy kicks into sixth gear,
And I try to remember life with you,
All those beautiful memories.
But I don’t remember any of them anymore.
Do you remember the time,
You yelled at me for bringing in the groceries?
Now I carry them like a beast of burden;
All at once is the goal.
I picture you apologizing for the lesson.
It’s a memory I cherish,
Because now I do all that I can.
Do you remember the time,
You criticized me?
“You walk like a herd of elephants.”
My knees don’t hurt.
My back is getting better.
I first acted out of spite.
But love keeps this lesson alive.
There were mornings I woke up,
And I found you bathed in the morning sunlight.
I hugged you every morning,
Or at least I think I did.
I loved you and didn’t realize it.
I bandaged your bloody shins when you fell.
You thanked me,
And my heart sank.
You should never have thanked me.
What else should I have done?
I worshipped your tinted yellow corpse
In zeal-ed bereavement.
I could have stayed with you till you died.
I chose to leave,
They promised me you’d get better.
I came to an inquisition
They asked me:
“why didn’t you stay?”
They accused me:
“You abandoned your grandfather”
They didn’t understand:
“Hindsight is 20/20
I didn’t know”
I hung myself.
You were my third late arrival.
Death and I are on different schedules.
I missed my mentor.
I rushed to my friend,
But didn’t make it.
I drove to you,
But time wasn’t on my side.
I never get those last moments,
And the memories never stay.
I tell myself these storms will come and go.
But not you Grandpa,
Because you’ve already come and gone.
I wrote love on the face of the changing infinity,
The clapping twins folding over it.
As the words faded away into the endlessness,
So too faded all my ties with it.
It was gone, and before me stood a clean face,
Smiling for yet another word to imprint itself.
So I pressed my feet firmly into the sand.
I felt the face of the changing infinity
Holding and supporting and forming my new identity.
With each clapping twin, the face and I changed.
As I sank into the face of the changing infinity
I lost all my ties to the endlessness,
Until at long last I no longer stood above
But rather below and one with the face of the changing infinity.
One with the clapping twins of change;
One with the endlessness of time and men.
Last edited by lil bitchiness on Oct 15th, 2011 at 10:20 PM
I have found the original, enjoy
Little old man sitting on the front porch,
Where are you going?
Far away far away, away from this world.
Old man old man, why from this world?
Old man old man, stay a while more.
Going, going, an echo and fade.
I’m leaving, I’m leaving to go far away.
Old man, old man, why leave me so?
Old timer, old timer, from me do not go.
Painful I know, but endure, and grow.
From the lilies of spring to the winter’s snow.
I have carried my burdens I’ve done what I can.
As far as the sun touched, I too with my hand.
In metal fires, and booming sounds.
From humble beginnings, to humble grounds.
I turned the soil with large solid knives.
With daggers of destruction I brought forth life.
I buried the souls of countless men.
Comrades, my enemies, and even my friends.
The laughter that was, the smiles well spent,
The hardships and trials, all said, done and dreamt.
No more have I to do nor have left I to dream,
No wars to fight or others to let be.
No breaths to have nor sleep to be made.
No Love to be had or children to save.
No more sickness, no more comfort,
No fatigue of the sort.
Good bye dear boy,
Good bye dear boy.
You leave me, you leave me, oh how could you go?
How much more the pain of death shall I know?
You’ve left me, you’ve left, oh where have you gone?
To leave me so soon, to you was I drawn.
Grandfather, grandfather, why have you died?
Grandfather, grandfather, in stillness you lie,
In cold death’s embrace, in a lifeless waltz dance
Embalmed in sleep, in a passing away trance.
You leave us your body, but never you mind.
You’ve taken your spirit, and left the worthless behind.
I loved you for your spirit, your smile and your heart.
You body was broken, you lived as shattered parts.
The least that I loved stays here as I live,
Where the you that I loved, to God you thought give.
Grandfather, grandfather? No answer I see.
Gone from this earth, to roam and be free.
I wish I could follow, I will to go.
The path you have taken, I too wish to know.
Grandfather, grandfather, just one more good bye
Before to, grandfather, heaven you fly.
Much like a dam that stops a river's flow,
Or like the ripples that dance across the plane,
It is to hunt a buck but land a doe,
Or one to dream of warmth but wake to snow.
Nevertheless, it marks a never ending strain.
Some claim they know how to quell this beast,
And yet they are the ones who fight and pain.
I know to conquer takes time and gentle ease,
But it's a win to a never ending game.
Bless me Father for I have sinned.
I cannot count the days since my last confession.
I have in my weakness:
Licencious in my idleness
Drank till I was blue
Starved myself to points of breaking
I've done more drugs than I have fingers to count them
And I've slandered God's name in such vile ways
That blasphemy is a scratch against my frame
I haven't gone to church
Nor respected my elders
And have thoroughly corrupted my brothers.
I have abandoned ethics,
For self-gratifying, self-interest propelling goals.
I am extraordinarily narcissistic
I have sought the cool comfort of darkness.
I have prayed for rain.
Sometimes I roll over and cry
Because I hate everything I stand for,
And everything you've made me to be.
I regret being born sometimes.
I don't follow the rules
And shy of actually hurting someone
(more for my qualms than yours)
I have no trouble bringing people pain.
If this pleases you, my Lord,
Then this is end.
But if, my God, you shall hear one more,
You'll find me more lamentable for this one grief
Than all the rest combined.
I am lost.
When you made me,
You did not grace my legs
With those of a cheetahs.
Nor endowed me with the strength and courage
Of a lion.
You did not form my beauty
Like you did the peacocks.
Nor did you grant me the foxes wit,
Nor the serpents cunning.
You neither skilled me with the horses industry
Nor the tigers stealth.
You did not make my skin of earth's crust,
For that I feel pain.
You did not clothe me in fur,
For that I feel cold.
You did not give me the reserve of a cactus,
For that I feel thirst.
You did not give me the humble bee's stomach,
For that I feel the bitter sting of hunger.
But of all that I am deficient in,
You have given me one difference:
My life teeters within the shades
Of my uncertainty
I am swimming within the depths of my unfathomable inquiry.
I am besieged in the responsibility of my own human nature.
Is this true faith, God?
Not belief in you, but trust in my system?
What would I choose if not by the dictates of my reason?
Why am I condemned for the dictates of my reason?
Would you rather I enter heaven
Or Hell as what you created me?
Will I have even an option?
When I am puzzled by the demands they make of me,
I come and cower within the refuge of my intellect.
"I'm sorry I am that which is unavoidable; I'm sorry for being imperfect. I'm sorry for acting within unavoidable circumstances in performing actions unapproved by you!"
But could I say this is you?
Am I modeled in train from some other example?
In the lightless night, who's name do I whisper?
In the heat of the morn, who's name do I cry?
They spend half their days
Avoiding your face,
When I hardly can pull away.
But you are no visage of death;
Nor an icon triumphant.
But I forgo you when you are not true to me.
I stop when you disappear.
Heathen, traitor, dissident
In love, wild, foolish
Afraid, uncertain, skeptical
Forgive me father of my sins,
The ones I do most in trying to love you