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Official Poetry Critique Topic- Now Public to anyone!
- Thread starter Bazooka Lucca
- Start date
OnYourMark
オンヨマク いつも
joshisrad, which post were you responding to? Mine?
Pico2
Smash Apprentice
The gaping eyes
A shade of trick
The sea of things won’t show
And sacrifice, a thing of good
You know, you are known
A still-life kick, a dull shine hare
From sandman, stands the gloom
Say no more, my brother sees
It is, but I’m not through
A honeybee
Straight up out, and died, and did
I see, and sew them all
A shade of trick
The sea of things won’t show
And sacrifice, a thing of good
You know, you are known
A still-life kick, a dull shine hare
From sandman, stands the gloom
Say no more, my brother sees
It is, but I’m not through
A honeybee
Straight up out, and died, and did
I see, and sew them all
greenblob
Smash Lord
In the spirit of Wintereenmas, I decided to write a poem. This is still an unfinished first draft, but I'd still like some critique.
Just a note to those who take everything seriously: this isn't meant to be a propaganda piece and no research whatsoever went into this. This is more for humor than for any type of political agenda.
Warning: wall of text coming up...
Once upon a time
In a land not too far away
The president was upset,
Congress was in a fray.
"Our policy isn't working!" one cried.
"Crime rates are up!"
"Test scores are a disaster!"
"The economy is bankrupt!"
Angry mobs gathered
At the capitol every night
Protesting the cursed education plan
That failed to stop school fights.
With the election looming next year,
They needed something, quick!
Then one senator, slipperiest of them all,
In his head a plan ticked.
"Video games!" he cried.
"That'll be our scapegoat!"
Then he pulled out an old article
Of which previously no one took note.
From it he read, "Video games cause violence!
Video games cause ****!
They cause AIDS and cancer!
They're certainly not safe!"
"Are these claims founded?" one asked.
This was the reply: "Who cares?
We'll say they're different and new.
'They can't be trusted,' they'll fear.
The media will be on our side.
'Cause games threaten their industry,
Distracting potential customers
From the radio and TV.
Everyone agreed
That this was a good plan.
So they went to work
On the century's greatest scam.
They bribed scientists,
Conducted unfair polls,
And employed actors
To give testimonials.
The media was abuzz
With this latest scare.
"Why is school performance dropping?
Because video games are here!"
"Video games are dangerous,"
Said the president in his campaign.
"And if you reelect me,
You'll never see them ever again!"
Congressmen left and right,
A similar message they had:
"Video games promote Communism,
Video games are bad!"
Parents and teachers,
News channels having brainwashed them,
Drank up all their lies
And reelected those evil men.
Soon there was a bill,
Then the bill became law.
Video games were to be banned.
Starting next fall.
From StarCraft to Zelda,
Smash Bros. to WoW,
Counter-Strike, Metroid,
Even Kirby and Mario!
The law was indiscriminating,
Affecting Pong to DoA.
Consoles were confiscated,
And gone were the arcades.
Video games were thrown out,
Dumped into landfills and holes.
An event which came to be called
The Second Alamogordo.
Gamers were arrested
And given life imprisonment.
"They're dangerous to society," was the claim
That came from the government.
Parents everywhere rejoiced.
They broke out in song:
"Life will be so much better!"
Oh, how they were so wrong.
Test scores did not go up,
Violence did not go down,
Unemployment was still high,
And the gangs were still in town.
...and I'm thinking about having the next part be about the still-brainwashed citizens going to the government for help, only to realize that they've been cheated. Then maybe a counterattack by ex-gamers or something. I dunno...
Mostly, I'm looking for tips on how to clean up the whole poem in general and how I could make it shorter. I'm guessing it's about 2/3 of the way done and it's way too long, but I don't want to completely take out any whatever a group of 4 lines is called. I'm trying to see if I can merge any of them.
Just a note to those who take everything seriously: this isn't meant to be a propaganda piece and no research whatsoever went into this. This is more for humor than for any type of political agenda.
Warning: wall of text coming up...
Once upon a time
In a land not too far away
The president was upset,
Congress was in a fray.
"Our policy isn't working!" one cried.
"Crime rates are up!"
"Test scores are a disaster!"
"The economy is bankrupt!"
Angry mobs gathered
At the capitol every night
Protesting the cursed education plan
That failed to stop school fights.
With the election looming next year,
They needed something, quick!
Then one senator, slipperiest of them all,
In his head a plan ticked.
"Video games!" he cried.
"That'll be our scapegoat!"
Then he pulled out an old article
Of which previously no one took note.
From it he read, "Video games cause violence!
Video games cause ****!
They cause AIDS and cancer!
They're certainly not safe!"
"Are these claims founded?" one asked.
This was the reply: "Who cares?
We'll say they're different and new.
'They can't be trusted,' they'll fear.
The media will be on our side.
'Cause games threaten their industry,
Distracting potential customers
From the radio and TV.
Everyone agreed
That this was a good plan.
So they went to work
On the century's greatest scam.
They bribed scientists,
Conducted unfair polls,
And employed actors
To give testimonials.
The media was abuzz
With this latest scare.
"Why is school performance dropping?
Because video games are here!"
"Video games are dangerous,"
Said the president in his campaign.
"And if you reelect me,
You'll never see them ever again!"
Congressmen left and right,
A similar message they had:
"Video games promote Communism,
Video games are bad!"
Parents and teachers,
News channels having brainwashed them,
Drank up all their lies
And reelected those evil men.
Soon there was a bill,
Then the bill became law.
Video games were to be banned.
Starting next fall.
From StarCraft to Zelda,
Smash Bros. to WoW,
Counter-Strike, Metroid,
Even Kirby and Mario!
The law was indiscriminating,
Affecting Pong to DoA.
Consoles were confiscated,
And gone were the arcades.
Video games were thrown out,
Dumped into landfills and holes.
An event which came to be called
The Second Alamogordo.
Gamers were arrested
And given life imprisonment.
"They're dangerous to society," was the claim
That came from the government.
Parents everywhere rejoiced.
They broke out in song:
"Life will be so much better!"
Oh, how they were so wrong.
Test scores did not go up,
Violence did not go down,
Unemployment was still high,
And the gangs were still in town.
...and I'm thinking about having the next part be about the still-brainwashed citizens going to the government for help, only to realize that they've been cheated. Then maybe a counterattack by ex-gamers or something. I dunno...
Mostly, I'm looking for tips on how to clean up the whole poem in general and how I could make it shorter. I'm guessing it's about 2/3 of the way done and it's way too long, but I don't want to completely take out any whatever a group of 4 lines is called. I'm trying to see if I can merge any of them.
lol @ greenblob's, funny stuff.
Here are some of mine, but be warned: they suck. I'm sorry for posting them, I just want criticism so I can improve.
Twilight, Shadow, Sunrise
A desolate barren landscape
Is all I can see;
Friends abandoned,
Love nonexistent,
I’m blind in the dark.
Self-destructive hatred
Emanates from my presence,
Coloring actions and words.
None can see through the darkness.
None can hear over the noise.
Then I see a speck of light
Shining through the shadows,
Driving back the darkness.
I catch a glimpse of what lies
Beyond the door.
I look back at the light
And I see the rising sun,
The guiding light bringing
Out my own radiance within
And giving it the power to shine.
I open the door and take
What’s inside so I can open my eyes
And soar among the clouds.
Now all can see my true self,
The falcon that perceives all.
I am free.
Maelstrom
I cannot go back,
And I cannot go forward,
Until I have found what I
Lost in times long past.
Trapped in a song,
That left me long ago for dead,
An ethereal memory
Rises unheard.
An endless circle
And a key to a lock
Have found their way back,
To a chest to sleep.
Now the music starts,
And the chimes begin to ring.
I am lost in a labyrinth,
And I move forward...
And once I start I cannot stop,
Until the maelstrom has passed
And the winds are calm again.
Shards
A tear falls unseen.
No one hears.
A cry goes unheard.
No one sees.
Fragments of sorrow
Permeate all.
A heart heals
And is shattered.
The heart has at kast been mended,
It burns again
With a hope rekindled,
Ready for one last gasp...
Shadows
Clouds approached overhead,
Shadows came underfoot,
But I was too busy staring at the sun
To see them coming.
A heavy price was paid
for our mistakes.
Precious stars
winked out one by one.
I fell,
For what seemed like ages,
Not knowing what would break my fall,
Nor what lay at the bottom of that shaded pit.
I landed,
And I see what lays at the bottom.
I see two staircases,
One leading down
and one leading up.
I leap forward...
Blarg. I know I suck, but please critique anyway. I know I don't have any rhyme scheme, I don't like rhyme. I feel that it limits word choice and, through that, the effectiveness of the poem itself.
Here are some of mine, but be warned: they suck. I'm sorry for posting them, I just want criticism so I can improve.
Twilight, Shadow, Sunrise
A desolate barren landscape
Is all I can see;
Friends abandoned,
Love nonexistent,
I’m blind in the dark.
Self-destructive hatred
Emanates from my presence,
Coloring actions and words.
None can see through the darkness.
None can hear over the noise.
Then I see a speck of light
Shining through the shadows,
Driving back the darkness.
I catch a glimpse of what lies
Beyond the door.
I look back at the light
And I see the rising sun,
The guiding light bringing
Out my own radiance within
And giving it the power to shine.
I open the door and take
What’s inside so I can open my eyes
And soar among the clouds.
Now all can see my true self,
The falcon that perceives all.
I am free.
Maelstrom
I cannot go back,
And I cannot go forward,
Until I have found what I
Lost in times long past.
Trapped in a song,
That left me long ago for dead,
An ethereal memory
Rises unheard.
An endless circle
And a key to a lock
Have found their way back,
To a chest to sleep.
Now the music starts,
And the chimes begin to ring.
I am lost in a labyrinth,
And I move forward...
And once I start I cannot stop,
Until the maelstrom has passed
And the winds are calm again.
Shards
A tear falls unseen.
No one hears.
A cry goes unheard.
No one sees.
Fragments of sorrow
Permeate all.
A heart heals
And is shattered.
The heart has at kast been mended,
It burns again
With a hope rekindled,
Ready for one last gasp...
Shadows
Clouds approached overhead,
Shadows came underfoot,
But I was too busy staring at the sun
To see them coming.
A heavy price was paid
for our mistakes.
Precious stars
winked out one by one.
I fell,
For what seemed like ages,
Not knowing what would break my fall,
Nor what lay at the bottom of that shaded pit.
I landed,
And I see what lays at the bottom.
I see two staircases,
One leading down
and one leading up.
I leap forward...
Blarg. I know I suck, but please critique anyway. I know I don't have any rhyme scheme, I don't like rhyme. I feel that it limits word choice and, through that, the effectiveness of the poem itself.
Zook
Perpetual Lazy Bum
A quirky bird is the pelican
His mouth can hold more food than his belican
He stuffs in his beak
Enough food for a week
I'd be ****ed if I knew how the helican!
His mouth can hold more food than his belican
He stuffs in his beak
Enough food for a week
I'd be ****ed if I knew how the helican!
Sandy
Smash Champion
Fearful.
That's what I am.
Not fearful
Of death.
Fearful
Of doom.
Of pain and destruction
Of watching my loved ones
Be tortued.
Fearful.
The word even inspires fear.
One man
Makes all of us
Fearful.
This man is greedy
He's evil
And he's leading
Us all to our
Doom.
He makes me
Fearful.
The thing that makes me
Fearful
The most is...
That I must kill him.
That I must end a life.
That I must become a slayer.
That I must free us
From this fear.
Fearful.
Yes, I am.
And I'm sure that I'm not
Fearful
By myself.
I'm sure that others are
Fearful
Of this man
Who has filled us
With fear.
Who has destroyed our lives,
Our happiness,
Our safety,
Our hope
Just so that he can be
In charge.
I sheath my sword
And climb into my mare's saddle.
And let me tell you;
I'm pretty
Fearful.
That's what I am.
Not fearful
Of death.
Fearful
Of doom.
Of pain and destruction
Of watching my loved ones
Be tortued.
Fearful.
The word even inspires fear.
One man
Makes all of us
Fearful.
This man is greedy
He's evil
And he's leading
Us all to our
Doom.
He makes me
Fearful.
The thing that makes me
Fearful
The most is...
That I must kill him.
That I must end a life.
That I must become a slayer.
That I must free us
From this fear.
Fearful.
Yes, I am.
And I'm sure that I'm not
Fearful
By myself.
I'm sure that others are
Fearful
Of this man
Who has filled us
With fear.
Who has destroyed our lives,
Our happiness,
Our safety,
Our hope
Just so that he can be
In charge.
I sheath my sword
And climb into my mare's saddle.
And let me tell you;
I'm pretty
Fearful.
Frankie Fly, the poem is okay, but I do not like one-word lines. While use effectively, they can be powerful, you didn't do it there. Sorry, but it wasn't good.
A favorite quickie that I have written:
And the world broke its ties.
Broken by deceit and ravaged by lies.
I know the truth lies in your eyes,
too tortured to find out where it hides.
A favorite quickie that I have written:
And the world broke its ties.
Broken by deceit and ravaged by lies.
I know the truth lies in your eyes,
too tortured to find out where it hides.
OnYourMark
オンヨマク いつも
This is a short poem I wrote a few days ago when I was really sad and angry:
The Incompetence of Language...
I have searched through my mind and through the pages,
Yet there is no word worthy
To tell what is in my heart—
It is impossible.
The Incompetence of Language...
I have searched through my mind and through the pages,
Yet there is no word worthy
To tell what is in my heart—
It is impossible.
OnYourMark
オンヨマク いつも
Thanks ^_^ I don't think there's a pattern to this poem... I just wrote whatever.
I made the lines... correspond (if that's the right word). Every line sort of couplets with the previous.
Does anyone know what that is called?
I have searched through my mind and through the pages,
Yet there is no word worthy.
Yet there is no word worthy
To tell what is in my heart.
To tell what is in my heart—
It is impossible.
I made the lines... correspond (if that's the right word). Every line sort of couplets with the previous.
Does anyone know what that is called?
I have searched through my mind and through the pages,
Yet there is no word worthy.
Yet there is no word worthy
To tell what is in my heart.
To tell what is in my heart—
It is impossible.
Venom Dream
Smash Champion
Briefity can be useful, and it's a good thing you kept this short. It's blunt and to the point - any longer and it'd be reduntant. I kind of like it. Better than the first version, for sure. Try to avoid writing about how you can't think of something to write, though. Never a good idea.
Neon-Marker Heart
Applying chemistry to social situations,
You must be reacting with me,
Something is attracting and repelling,
But I’ve never been so attracted to Science,
I just never even bother to pay attention.
I’m just so bothered that I just can’t pay attention,
And I’ve no idea who or what is circling me.
I lost my crayon box; these soak right through,
I lost my crayon box; these soak right through,
You can see the neon colours shine on both sides.
I was so politely asked to label my heart,
On a piece of paper, bright colours is what I’m thinking,
Atomically correct with just the right feeling,
Of happy downtowns glimmering all over the classroom.
Everything can be explained with a hard, hard Science,
Well it’s hard to doubt a Science,
But not doing much for anyone this time.
I lost my crayon box; these soak right through,
I lost my crayon box; these soak right through,
You can see the neon colours shine on both sides.
This place is filled with lights,
A few Stars gambling,
Long gaze on the floor.
The floor is daylight and,
Everything else is night -
You’re like a neon sign!
Crumple my paper, throw it out,
Start over from a fresh white.
Make airplanes so colourful,
And fly them as signs,
In the clear morning fog, so fresh
I lost my crayon box; these soak right through,
I lost my crayon box; these soak right through,
You can see the neon colours shining on both sides.
A beacon for your particles to do something they’ve been meaning to do,
For such a long time,
I’ll never understand my physics, because I love the mystery,
Above there’s a neon-heart kite that’s calling to you,
Well someone needs help; atoms get up and start moving.
Sandy
Smash Champion
The Smash Parade
When I was a young n00b,
My father took me into Mute city
To see a F-Zero Race.
He said, "Son when you grow up,
will you be the saviour of the broken, The beaten and the pwned?"
He said "Will you defeat them,
your demons, and all the non wavedashers, the plans that they have made?"
Because one day I leave you,
A male wire frame to lead you in the summer,
To join the smash parade."
When I was a young n00b,
My father took me into Mute city
To see a F-Zero Race.
He said, "Son when you grow up,
will you be the saviour of the broken, The beaten and the pwned?"
He said "Will you defeat them,
your demons, and all the non wavedashers, the plans that they have made?"
Because one day I leave you,
A male wire frame to lead you in the summer,
To join the smash parade."
V3ctorMan
Smash Champion
It's ben an honor to read all the poems.. everyone.. I have one I wanted to post.. but i don know who to credit... I believe my friend wrote it.. but for some reason.. it seems like he took it from something.. so idk.. i'll post my poem later.. ^_^
Jazzy Jinx
♥♪!?
Therein Lies Beauty
A tear rolls down my cheek,
I quench my soul.
The object of my desire,
Lost to distance.
An annoyance of my past,
In my business always.
The persistent mistress,
Longing for me, I oppose.
An abstract beauty,
I don’t see it.
Though it is not a stranger,
Lost from my thought.
A skin absent of lust,
I refuse her.
Though we bond,
Love is killed by appearance.
August, trees cry tears of colors,
It was when it happened.
Temptation occurs,
Lively, a single kiss.
And I realize,
Internally she is unrivaled.
Therein lies beauty,
Lasting always, untouched by time.
After while though,
I hear grim news.
The night veils,
Locked her fate.
As my eyes weaken,
In my soul, with it.
Torn from me,
Lost to distance.
And though gloomy,
I understand.
Time separates us,
Lily, reunited you and I, when I die.
---
This is completely fictional. I don't know anyone named Lily.
A tear rolls down my cheek,
I quench my soul.
The object of my desire,
Lost to distance.
An annoyance of my past,
In my business always.
The persistent mistress,
Longing for me, I oppose.
An abstract beauty,
I don’t see it.
Though it is not a stranger,
Lost from my thought.
A skin absent of lust,
I refuse her.
Though we bond,
Love is killed by appearance.
August, trees cry tears of colors,
It was when it happened.
Temptation occurs,
Lively, a single kiss.
And I realize,
Internally she is unrivaled.
Therein lies beauty,
Lasting always, untouched by time.
After while though,
I hear grim news.
The night veils,
Locked her fate.
As my eyes weaken,
In my soul, with it.
Torn from me,
Lost to distance.
And though gloomy,
I understand.
Time separates us,
Lily, reunited you and I, when I die.
---
This is completely fictional. I don't know anyone named Lily.
blackrob08
Smash Cadet
At the one liner diner
we don't have a lot to say
we just say our one line
and then sit in awkward ways
and yesterday i laughed
because her's was quite good
she said, "I've always meant to say this
but never could"
we don't have a lot to say
we just say our one line
and then sit in awkward ways
and yesterday i laughed
because her's was quite good
she said, "I've always meant to say this
but never could"
Sandy
Smash Champion
The Smash Parade
When I was a young n00b,
My father took me into Mute city
To see a F-Zero Race.
He said, "Son when you grow up,
will you be the saviour of the broken, The beaten and the pwned?"
He said "Will you defeat them,
your demons, and all the non wavedashers, the plans that they have made?"
Because one day I leave you,
A male wire frame to lead you in the summer,
To join the smash parade."
Sometimes I get the feeling
Of pwning everything
and other times I feel like I should know
when through it all the rise and fall
of the online great elite
and when I go I want you all to know
I pwned you all, I pwned you all
And though I lost to a n00b believe me
My memory will carry on
I pwned you all
and in my room I can't contain it
the h4x can never tame it
When I was a young n00b,
My father took me into Mute city
To see a F-Zero Race.
He said, "Son when you grow up,
will you be the saviour of the broken, The beaten and the pwned?"
He said "Will you defeat them,
your demons, and all the non wavedashers, the plans that they have made?"
Because one day I leave you,
A male wire frame to lead you in the summer,
To join the smash parade."
Sometimes I get the feeling
Of pwning everything
and other times I feel like I should know
when through it all the rise and fall
of the online great elite
and when I go I want you all to know
I pwned you all, I pwned you all
And though I lost to a n00b believe me
My memory will carry on
I pwned you all
and in my room I can't contain it
the h4x can never tame it
Venom Dream
Smash Champion
I love this. It's amazingly entertaining. The word 'just' could probably be taken out, seems unneeded - you know, just to give you something to work with.
Anyone Can Relate to Me/Weather Channel
A chorus of angelic voices harmonize,
Bad light jazz foams from tiny minimalist speakers,
Light snowfall, the clouds roll in from the west,
Chirping like birds, I don’t want this wake-up call.
Come to revelations that are the same,
As the latest ancient works of the most recent
And very last philosophers. I got beaten to the point.
You’re projecting yourself onto yourself,
What you think you might be, you are without doubt,
And anyone can relate to me, anyone can relate to you,
Because everything we’ve ever thought was
Related from the viewpoint of us soaking the stimulus up.
Anyone can relate to me, I’d better stand up and start flailing,
Maybe I’ll hit blocks at just the right angle,
To fit shapes into their corresponding puzzles,
It’s their home, just where they belong.
And I can tell I belong to this place, since it seems
Like everyone can relate to my horrible horrible daybreak.
Zook
Perpetual Lazy Bum
A Poem
A poem, a poem
Everyone said I couldn't write
A poem
So I wrote a poem
This poem
I named it "A Poem"
To prove that I can write
A poem
A poem, a poem
Everyone said I couldn't write
A poem
So I wrote a poem
This poem
I named it "A Poem"
To prove that I can write
A poem
blackrob08
Smash Cadet
venom, thanks! See the word 'just' was put in for two reasons: to fit the meter, and to emphasize that this is ALL they say at the diner (it's a hyperbolized situation between the two), to make the final line more dramatic. See the rhythm of the poem is "at the ONE LIner DIner, we don't HAVE a LOT to SAY, WE just SAY our ONE line, AND then SIT in AWKward WAYS....etc. (accent on capitalized letters..) The only time the poem deviates from this meter is at the end, but i intend for it to be read: "she SAID i ALways MEANT to SAY this, but NEver COULD". I don't usually write rhyming poems or sing sony ones either, this one I just was really trying to have an eye opening, clever last line (her one line, which she has been struggling to get out, doesn't even contain a real thought...other than that she was trying to say it...) That's really all the poem is supposed to accomplish. You're supposed to look at it and go "AHHHH" as with all poems haha.
as for your poem venom, i really like it! great ideas. My only suggestion there would be to consider altering punctuation and capitalization. Lots of your sentences run over to the next lines but then those next lines are capitalized and it throws me off a bit. If there is a specific reason for this, then ignore my comment. Otherwise, consider it? haha. Nice work!
here's one more poem of mine, for good times sake:
Cement Day
The great machine puked
(From all that spinning)
Spewing over the concrete
Its grey blood was thrown about
Flooding the streets
Recent memories were frozen
Next to old footsteps
And bugs in the rubble
While sap seeped out the monster's mouth
Trapping the past
Like insects in amber
Or maybe the beast wasn't a beast at all
Sticky tears sliding down its steal cheeks
Shuffling away at dusk?
Dragging its feet
as for your poem venom, i really like it! great ideas. My only suggestion there would be to consider altering punctuation and capitalization. Lots of your sentences run over to the next lines but then those next lines are capitalized and it throws me off a bit. If there is a specific reason for this, then ignore my comment. Otherwise, consider it? haha. Nice work!
here's one more poem of mine, for good times sake:
Cement Day
The great machine puked
(From all that spinning)
Spewing over the concrete
Its grey blood was thrown about
Flooding the streets
Recent memories were frozen
Next to old footsteps
And bugs in the rubble
While sap seeped out the monster's mouth
Trapping the past
Like insects in amber
Or maybe the beast wasn't a beast at all
Sticky tears sliding down its steal cheeks
Shuffling away at dusk?
Dragging its feet
Tr3n7
Smash Rookie
Rob, I like this poem that you have here. It's strong, the meaning is implied in the title. I like the juxtaposition of "Recent memories were frozen / Next to old footsteps."
"Trapping the past / Like insects in amber" is a good use of visual imagery.
The only thing I am really confused about is the third to last line: "Sticky tears sliding down its steal cheeks," I'm not sure if you made a typo with "steal" and meant to put "steel" or not.
Overall, I like this poem, your word choice is good, and the way it flows together seems almost as if it's revolving (like a cement mixer would).
Here's my first (of many, hopefully) contribution to this enormous thread of poetry.
Poetry Sweatshop
Confined by cream-colored cliffs
rising overhead to a speckled-freckled sky
wrought of cork, marked by metal,
Shrouding sovereign senses in shadow
Revealing only the doorstop.
The first step to a new path.
A path, locked away from youthful dreams
A path, blocked by the Penumbra Hand of Fate,
The Turnstile Operator of Destiny
Permitting only penguins to pass
Allowing brainwashed allies admittance
while the thinkers,
the key-makers,
are left to ponder.
Forging Sound (Inspired by Miles Davis' "Miles Runs the Voodoo Down")
As Miles Runs the Voodoo Down,
His trumpet echoes across the town,
The Voodoo Rundown could take miles,
While worn out shoes collect in piles,
But Miles Runs the Voodoo Down,
His notes like arrows, will change a frown,
This Voodoo Rundown has taken miles,
The distance spans 1,000 Niles,
Still, Miles Runs the Voodoo Down,
Forging Sound to make it drown.
"Trapping the past / Like insects in amber" is a good use of visual imagery.
The only thing I am really confused about is the third to last line: "Sticky tears sliding down its steal cheeks," I'm not sure if you made a typo with "steal" and meant to put "steel" or not.
Overall, I like this poem, your word choice is good, and the way it flows together seems almost as if it's revolving (like a cement mixer would).
Here's my first (of many, hopefully) contribution to this enormous thread of poetry.
Poetry Sweatshop
Confined by cream-colored cliffs
rising overhead to a speckled-freckled sky
wrought of cork, marked by metal,
Shrouding sovereign senses in shadow
Revealing only the doorstop.
The first step to a new path.
A path, locked away from youthful dreams
A path, blocked by the Penumbra Hand of Fate,
The Turnstile Operator of Destiny
Permitting only penguins to pass
Allowing brainwashed allies admittance
while the thinkers,
the key-makers,
are left to ponder.
Forging Sound (Inspired by Miles Davis' "Miles Runs the Voodoo Down")
As Miles Runs the Voodoo Down,
His trumpet echoes across the town,
The Voodoo Rundown could take miles,
While worn out shoes collect in piles,
But Miles Runs the Voodoo Down,
His notes like arrows, will change a frown,
This Voodoo Rundown has taken miles,
The distance spans 1,000 Niles,
Still, Miles Runs the Voodoo Down,
Forging Sound to make it drown.
Venom Dream
Smash Champion
Delicious, delicious poetry.
"Cement Day" was the weakest of the last three poems (sorry, I like this Tr3n7 fellow), but still very good. Taking an image that everyone has seen and applying it to something completely different. The entire poem is a metaphor, and could mean anything to any given person, but it's focused enough that it's not pretensous or unrelatable.
Tr3n7... wow. Brilliant, both of them. It's like you took the English Language and bashed it sideways until it decided to just do what you told it to (I'm being melodramatic about this, I know). In the second, you somehow took an extremely simple rhyme scheme with an equally simple concept and made it flow perfectly.
And Zook. Yeah, about that. Not good. Even as a novelty, it's at the level of a 9th-grade student with writers block.
The capitals-at-the-start-of-lines thing can be changed, definitly. I noticed that, but left it how it was anyways. I'm thinking I might ignore the one at the end, so that the line reads both "since it seems like everyone can relate" and "Like, everyone can relate". Which totally fits the theme of the poem.
I don't have anything new, but if anyone wants to read more of my stuff, I have my own topic down the page a bit.
"Cement Day" was the weakest of the last three poems (sorry, I like this Tr3n7 fellow), but still very good. Taking an image that everyone has seen and applying it to something completely different. The entire poem is a metaphor, and could mean anything to any given person, but it's focused enough that it's not pretensous or unrelatable.
Tr3n7... wow. Brilliant, both of them. It's like you took the English Language and bashed it sideways until it decided to just do what you told it to (I'm being melodramatic about this, I know). In the second, you somehow took an extremely simple rhyme scheme with an equally simple concept and made it flow perfectly.
And Zook. Yeah, about that. Not good. Even as a novelty, it's at the level of a 9th-grade student with writers block.
The capitals-at-the-start-of-lines thing can be changed, definitly. I noticed that, but left it how it was anyways. I'm thinking I might ignore the one at the end, so that the line reads both "since it seems like everyone can relate" and "Like, everyone can relate". Which totally fits the theme of the poem.
I don't have anything new, but if anyone wants to read more of my stuff, I have my own topic down the page a bit.
Tr3n7
Smash Rookie
Venom, thank you for the compliments, I'm flattered.
I've been writing poetry for awhile, it's something I love to do. It's nice to put a smile on the face of someone new. I've noticed I write concisely, I've been practicing for years. To place my words precisely, you've alleviated my fears. I was afraid of insult, self-conscious as I am. The obvious result: I've passed my initial exam.
Here are a few more poems, see if they are to your liking.
Ode to the Night
I live for you,
The dull afternoons passing by
Awaiting the time
I can discover your embrace.
You, seeping into my veins
I am engulfed, absorbed
Into your liquidesque darkness
You penetrate the innermost depths of
The self, taking the light
Releasing me from its bite.
Night, wholly dark and endless
Take me to the place I yearn for
Take me through consuming blackness
Hidden from painful daylight
Whisk me away in a brisk embrace
Inhaling your tar-like essence
Lungs seethe with cool, smooth air
I beckon to you, O darkest night
Invisible within you, I find solace
Protected from the harsh light of day.
Take me under your wings
So I may find my own.
Mjolnir's Thunder
Clapton's guitar and Plant's vocal sound
Respected, revered, their force shakes the ground,
As Mjolnir thunders through the skies
Their celestial sound elicits a cry
Of our hopes and dreams, seeping through these grates,
Renegades of the world who've mastered their fates.
Wooten's bass and Bonham's drum pound
Resonating, real, driving rhythms abound,
As Mjolnir thunders, the people cry
With insatiable hunger for sound that flies
Masses scream for a force of power
It's needed now, they can't wait an hour.
Clapton's guitar and Plant's vocal sound
Turn music to thunder, forever renowned.
The Red Pen
Amazing Wonder to behold
Office Depot's plastic mold
Created something with which I write
Inspired by plastic, a pathetic sight.
Rave
tune playing, propelling people to progress,
sound resonates within facets of thought,
waves pound drums fire synapses respond
as the tune carries through mental halls
feet tap bodies move
the sound, driving the cranial bass line,
creating dance.
urging this night's drunken revelers
to scream and shake
with the vigor of Valhalla's Valkyries.
I've been writing poetry for awhile, it's something I love to do. It's nice to put a smile on the face of someone new. I've noticed I write concisely, I've been practicing for years. To place my words precisely, you've alleviated my fears. I was afraid of insult, self-conscious as I am. The obvious result: I've passed my initial exam.
Here are a few more poems, see if they are to your liking.
Ode to the Night
I live for you,
The dull afternoons passing by
Awaiting the time
I can discover your embrace.
You, seeping into my veins
I am engulfed, absorbed
Into your liquidesque darkness
You penetrate the innermost depths of
The self, taking the light
Releasing me from its bite.
Night, wholly dark and endless
Take me to the place I yearn for
Take me through consuming blackness
Hidden from painful daylight
Whisk me away in a brisk embrace
Inhaling your tar-like essence
Lungs seethe with cool, smooth air
I beckon to you, O darkest night
Invisible within you, I find solace
Protected from the harsh light of day.
Take me under your wings
So I may find my own.
Mjolnir's Thunder
Clapton's guitar and Plant's vocal sound
Respected, revered, their force shakes the ground,
As Mjolnir thunders through the skies
Their celestial sound elicits a cry
Of our hopes and dreams, seeping through these grates,
Renegades of the world who've mastered their fates.
Wooten's bass and Bonham's drum pound
Resonating, real, driving rhythms abound,
As Mjolnir thunders, the people cry
With insatiable hunger for sound that flies
Masses scream for a force of power
It's needed now, they can't wait an hour.
Clapton's guitar and Plant's vocal sound
Turn music to thunder, forever renowned.
The Red Pen
Amazing Wonder to behold
Office Depot's plastic mold
Created something with which I write
Inspired by plastic, a pathetic sight.
Rave
tune playing, propelling people to progress,
sound resonates within facets of thought,
waves pound drums fire synapses respond
as the tune carries through mental halls
feet tap bodies move
the sound, driving the cranial bass line,
creating dance.
urging this night's drunken revelers
to scream and shake
with the vigor of Valhalla's Valkyries.
Sandy
Smash Champion
will no one glance at mine?
blackrob08
Smash Cadet
Nice poems tr3, great critiques venom. yes tr3, "steel" would have been the correct word, good catch! Here's a few other interesting poems i wrote, tell me what you guys think!
Directions To Mediocrity
Half of me still wanted her, but
there was nothing left.
Right when things were looking
up, down they went.
She spent most of my money on her
good looks.
And I spent the rest on
relationship books.
So when she left me at that dinner
I knew exactly why.
And just how to respond,
though I didn’t try.
I’d already bit off more than I could chew,
so I just kept my big mouth shut.
And as she walked away
I felt like 500,000 bucks.
Standing
(read in a foreign accent of your choice)
The cat is like the woman.
The cat is out of the bag.
The bag is made of paper.
The paper is brown.
Brown, like a log.
Brown, like the earth.
Was the bag the cat's home
when the rain was wet?
The man forgot the bag.
The bag will be wet from the wet rain.
I could move the bag.
But if the cat comes back?
I see the man.
He walks with the woman.
They are not wet from the wet rain.
The wet rain is wet with the bag, I see.
Strange Motorcycle Rides
On the way to work I pick
Up my girl and we ride on my
Father’s motorcycle for a while
We go fast over some hills near the ocean
Rising and falling with the birth and death
Of those massive sea creatures
She trusts me on that thing.
Clenching my ribs like handlebars.
Occasionally I think I hear her
“What?” I say
“I didn’t say anything…”
And the faster we go the more I think I hear
Once it seemed she said
“Kyle’s home”
And another time
“Seaaaaguulls”
But I trust her…
Once though, I taped a voice recorder
To the inside of my helmet
And told her to hold on tight
That night in bed, I listened carefully
To the recording. But it just sounded like wind
And an angry motor
Job Less
When bright angels are
standing beside me
like gazelles,
my thoughts wander.
Directions To Mediocrity
Half of me still wanted her, but
there was nothing left.
Right when things were looking
up, down they went.
She spent most of my money on her
good looks.
And I spent the rest on
relationship books.
So when she left me at that dinner
I knew exactly why.
And just how to respond,
though I didn’t try.
I’d already bit off more than I could chew,
so I just kept my big mouth shut.
And as she walked away
I felt like 500,000 bucks.
Standing
(read in a foreign accent of your choice)
The cat is like the woman.
The cat is out of the bag.
The bag is made of paper.
The paper is brown.
Brown, like a log.
Brown, like the earth.
Was the bag the cat's home
when the rain was wet?
The man forgot the bag.
The bag will be wet from the wet rain.
I could move the bag.
But if the cat comes back?
I see the man.
He walks with the woman.
They are not wet from the wet rain.
The wet rain is wet with the bag, I see.
Strange Motorcycle Rides
On the way to work I pick
Up my girl and we ride on my
Father’s motorcycle for a while
We go fast over some hills near the ocean
Rising and falling with the birth and death
Of those massive sea creatures
She trusts me on that thing.
Clenching my ribs like handlebars.
Occasionally I think I hear her
“What?” I say
“I didn’t say anything…”
And the faster we go the more I think I hear
Once it seemed she said
“Kyle’s home”
And another time
“Seaaaaguulls”
But I trust her…
Once though, I taped a voice recorder
To the inside of my helmet
And told her to hold on tight
That night in bed, I listened carefully
To the recording. But it just sounded like wind
And an angry motor
Job Less
When bright angels are
standing beside me
like gazelles,
my thoughts wander.
Zook
Perpetual Lazy Bum
That's about the size of it, to be truthful.
Things that dissapear with notice
Money
Dinner
The day
Friends
Your life
Time
Bags of chips
Family
Change on the kitchen counter
Good ideas
The mind
Bugs
Tr3n7
Smash Rookie
Zook, this poem is interesting. The free verse aspect is fun, but I think that you should try to be more descriptive, instead of just saying, "Here, look at this list."
A list isn't a poem.
Try to give us something that has a little more depth, if you know what I mean.
I just wrote this. It's based on Saturday night, April 28th.
I fell down the stairs when I was drunk.
Ankle hurts like
hell.
The sprained muscle
cells
captured by pain's
spell.
Legs shaking like
gel.
Comfort says
"farewell."
Eyes glazed, can
you
Tell?
Foot starting to
swell,
on this, I shall
not dwell.
Am I doing
well?
A list isn't a poem.
Try to give us something that has a little more depth, if you know what I mean.
I just wrote this. It's based on Saturday night, April 28th.
I fell down the stairs when I was drunk.
Ankle hurts like
hell.
The sprained muscle
cells
captured by pain's
spell.
Legs shaking like
gel.
Comfort says
"farewell."
Eyes glazed, can
you
Tell?
Foot starting to
swell,
on this, I shall
not dwell.
Am I doing
well?
Venom Dream
Smash Champion
Wow, Tr3n7, again I'm pleasantly surprised. I look at it and think 'okay, there's no way this can be good', but by the time I was halfways through, I was practically giggling with wonder. The humour is great; half wry wit, half like something you'd expect in a slapstick routine. But it all comes together quite well.
OnYourMark
オンヨマク いつも
ummm... Tr3n7, I don't understand your poem. I mean, I do understand what you are trying to say, but I just don't understand why you made it in that format, because
I'm quite unlearned in poetry.
Can someone please enlighten me?
I'm quite unlearned in poetry.
Can someone please enlighten me?
Venom Dream
Smash Champion
I'm of the opinion that the rhymes are pretty bad, and he was aware of that, so he purposly highlighted them. It gives the poem a sense of melodrama, which makes it interesting and eye-catching (or whatever). Of course, I could be way off here, but that's what I see.
Also, if you were drunk and just fell down the stairs, you'd probably feel pretty disoriented. And the poem plays off of that.
Tr3n7
Smash Rookie
Yeah. Venom pretty much hit the nail on the head with this one. I really did fall down the stairs drunk. I actually sprained my ankle, it really hurts. I wrote that poem on hydrocodone and I was also rather blazed. That's why the rhymes are painfully simple and the syntax is strange.
Let's get some more poems in here!
I don't feel like posting any more right now.
Let's get some more poems in here!
I don't feel like posting any more right now.
Venom Dream
Smash Champion
Alright, I'll post my latest one. It's not great, and it comes off a bit whiney, but it's supposed to be part of a set of poems (most of which have been posted here), and I think it works better in that context. This also has a secret second meaning to it that only I understand. Subtext, right. But you're not going to get to hear about that =P
Calico
What have the seasons done to you?
They got people riled up waiting for summer,
And that’s about how you got here.
Drop your changing spots and spots spread,
Are slowly going about changing you,
Like splatter of paint avoiding gravity.
Natural talents make me nervous,
That I might never be as good as this.
I just need nurturing, it might take some time.
I’ll spend three months inside, asking,
“What are the season doing to you?”
I’m never going to be Calico, but I try
I’m never going to be Calico, but I try.
Sulk, sulk, sulk, well ****, now
I sulk about how I’ve always got my head down.
Calico
What have the seasons done to you?
They got people riled up waiting for summer,
And that’s about how you got here.
Drop your changing spots and spots spread,
Are slowly going about changing you,
Like splatter of paint avoiding gravity.
Natural talents make me nervous,
That I might never be as good as this.
I just need nurturing, it might take some time.
I’ll spend three months inside, asking,
“What are the season doing to you?”
I’m never going to be Calico, but I try
I’m never going to be Calico, but I try.
Sulk, sulk, sulk, well ****, now
I sulk about how I’ve always got my head down.
Gustauve Drakenhime
Smash Rookie
- Joined
- May 15, 2007
- Messages
- 3
Homeland
When I look to the land I see beauty -
Beauty unparalleled,
I see the orchards in full bloom; fruit to be picked,
The rolling green hills full of life - the bovine lie,
I see the river run its course; power - raw and glorious,
I feel the world around me,
The air, it chills my body; but warms my soul -
The morning frost and fog - etherial; surreal,
I feel the kiss of the wind as it falls through the land,
I hear the sounds of life,
The taverns, full of drunken laughter - joyous songs,
The children play in the streets and fields; laughter,
I hear the land, full of sound; nature of the purist form,
I smell the familiar things -
The streets, they smell of roasted almonds,
The bakerys; cakes and pastries - the aroma of beer,
I smell the aroma of bratwurst; seductive,
And I feel it
I feel the life of my fatherland; the life of its people,
This is Deutschland - The Rhineland,
The land of my ancestors; my people
Home to my heart.
Beauty unparalleled,
I see the orchards in full bloom; fruit to be picked,
The rolling green hills full of life - the bovine lie,
I see the river run its course; power - raw and glorious,
I feel the world around me,
The air, it chills my body; but warms my soul -
The morning frost and fog - etherial; surreal,
I feel the kiss of the wind as it falls through the land,
I hear the sounds of life,
The taverns, full of drunken laughter - joyous songs,
The children play in the streets and fields; laughter,
I hear the land, full of sound; nature of the purist form,
I smell the familiar things -
The streets, they smell of roasted almonds,
The bakerys; cakes and pastries - the aroma of beer,
I smell the aroma of bratwurst; seductive,
And I feel it
I feel the life of my fatherland; the life of its people,
This is Deutschland - The Rhineland,
The land of my ancestors; my people
Home to my heart.
Tr3n7
Smash Rookie
Okay, I'll start with Venom first:
Conceptually, this poem makes sense and the tone is consistent. I enjoy the reference to the Calico, (I'm a cat person) and the reference to the actual spots makes the use of Calico as a reference even stronger. It seems to me that you may have had some confusion with the conjugated "Are" form of the verb "to be."
The structure of the poem is where I ran into some trouble. The last three lines of your first stanza are rough, you should consider rephrasing them.
Specifically: "Drop your changing spots and spots spread / Are slowly going about changing you" is difficult to understand. I think it may flow better if you try something like this: "Drop your shifting, spreading spots / as they go about changing you." I prefer this variation simply because it eliminates the re-using of the word "change" (in any form) and implements some alliteration (shifting, spreading spots) to create a concise emphasis on the spots.
Overall, I like this poem, but it needs some re-phrasing. Other than that, I like the concepts, diction is solid, and it was an interesting read, for sure.
Moving on to Gustauve:
The title is great, it connotes exactly what you intended. The imagery in this is extremely detailed, so at this point I assume you live in Germany, or did previously. The stanza structure is great. I love how you separated "And I feel it" from everything else. Your last four lines are really strong.
You've definitely made ample use of the nuances of punctuation. That's something I don't see very often, as I don't usually apply this amount of punctuation to my poems. You use it well.
The only actual mistakes in here are spelling errors, "etherial" is 'ethereal' and "purist," although spelled correctly, is the incorrect word for what you are saying. The spelling you are looking for there is most likely 'purest.' With the letter 'i' you imply an actual person who is a purist, or prefers only the most pure products, whereas purest implies what the purist would be looking for.
I really like this poem though. I feel like I'm back in Germany when I read it. I look forward to your next post, as well as Venom's.
Here's what I've got for today:
"Inspiration is"
A well! Discovered and cherished
for it's coruscating waters,
on which settlers survived
and a civilization thrived
with buildings of brushed brick
boundlessly billowing into blue sky.
Majesty unmatched, ideas hatched
at the will of the well,
where waters run nebulously
into mouths of moving masses.
But a well is not infinite,
someday its source is sapped.
Then it's just an empty chasm.
A misanthropic watering hole
Disguised by obsequious rigmarole.
My only request is that you review my poetry with the same careful reading that I give your own. That's what this forum is all about. <3 all smashers.
Conceptually, this poem makes sense and the tone is consistent. I enjoy the reference to the Calico, (I'm a cat person) and the reference to the actual spots makes the use of Calico as a reference even stronger. It seems to me that you may have had some confusion with the conjugated "Are" form of the verb "to be."
The structure of the poem is where I ran into some trouble. The last three lines of your first stanza are rough, you should consider rephrasing them.
Specifically: "Drop your changing spots and spots spread / Are slowly going about changing you" is difficult to understand. I think it may flow better if you try something like this: "Drop your shifting, spreading spots / as they go about changing you." I prefer this variation simply because it eliminates the re-using of the word "change" (in any form) and implements some alliteration (shifting, spreading spots) to create a concise emphasis on the spots.
Overall, I like this poem, but it needs some re-phrasing. Other than that, I like the concepts, diction is solid, and it was an interesting read, for sure.
Moving on to Gustauve:
The title is great, it connotes exactly what you intended. The imagery in this is extremely detailed, so at this point I assume you live in Germany, or did previously. The stanza structure is great. I love how you separated "And I feel it" from everything else. Your last four lines are really strong.
You've definitely made ample use of the nuances of punctuation. That's something I don't see very often, as I don't usually apply this amount of punctuation to my poems. You use it well.
The only actual mistakes in here are spelling errors, "etherial" is 'ethereal' and "purist," although spelled correctly, is the incorrect word for what you are saying. The spelling you are looking for there is most likely 'purest.' With the letter 'i' you imply an actual person who is a purist, or prefers only the most pure products, whereas purest implies what the purist would be looking for.
I really like this poem though. I feel like I'm back in Germany when I read it. I look forward to your next post, as well as Venom's.
Here's what I've got for today:
"Inspiration is"
A well! Discovered and cherished
for it's coruscating waters,
on which settlers survived
and a civilization thrived
with buildings of brushed brick
boundlessly billowing into blue sky.
Majesty unmatched, ideas hatched
at the will of the well,
where waters run nebulously
into mouths of moving masses.
But a well is not infinite,
someday its source is sapped.
Then it's just an empty chasm.
A misanthropic watering hole
Disguised by obsequious rigmarole.
My only request is that you review my poetry with the same careful reading that I give your own. That's what this forum is all about. <3 all smashers.
Venom Dream
Smash Champion
Iiiiimagery. Specifically, the more natural imagery. It's all over the last two poems (Tr3n7 and Gustauve), and it makes those poems. But, they're very different poems - Gustauve's has a simple beauty and sincerity to it which says exactly what it means, whereas Tr3n7's is conviluted in a way the it could be interpreted any number of ways. Anyways, both very good. This is probably the best page in the entire topic, collectively.
One note for Tr3n7, sometimes it seems like it might just be a little too wordy. The results turn out fine, but using words like infinite, chasm, misanthropic and obsequious rigmarole all consecutively is... risky. Well, whatever, as long as it works.
Uh, for this one, I tried something new, which I have been toying with a bit, but I don't think I've done a whole poem based around it. Until now!!
*ahem* Yeah. For this one, I wrote about a character. Which was kind of odd, since I normally just write about myself. Anyways, I like it... I think.
Restless Prince; Once a Year, Every Year
Poor prince, you’re terribly restless,
Kings and queens treat layers like they’re candles,
“But… it’s not a wedding, guys!”
Spectacles are for spectators,
And we’ve got a lot of ‘em here.
Build a fourth wall out of your golden hair
And stare at it blankly.
Children relate you to dogs,
They have no idea how you can see.
The jack-in-the-box just depresses you,
It pops once and then hangs limply over the side.
Set his box against the wall, he leans and sighs.
Does it glance over its shoulder,
When you turn your back,
And stuff its springs back down?
Oh, every spring, it comes again.
You fend it off. You’ve got enough,
No one ever has enough of you.
An extra helping, make sure I get the sidepiece,
With the flower. The flower that limps over every year.
When the sun leaps out and melts it,
Someone scoop it from the ground quick.
Dip in every fingertip, and lick.
Scorpions and spiders in the grab bags,
Guests chatter about how polite he is.
A pervasive silence hovering over his shoulders.
He feels eyes. They come from presents of other years,
That slump and lean and sigh and,
Try their hardest to remind him that
Even in the corner, still wrapped.
It’s coming back, it’s coming back,
And soon you’ll be the king.
Oh jooooy… then they’ll throw another party,
Won’t they?
One note for Tr3n7, sometimes it seems like it might just be a little too wordy. The results turn out fine, but using words like infinite, chasm, misanthropic and obsequious rigmarole all consecutively is... risky. Well, whatever, as long as it works.
Uh, for this one, I tried something new, which I have been toying with a bit, but I don't think I've done a whole poem based around it. Until now!!
*ahem* Yeah. For this one, I wrote about a character. Which was kind of odd, since I normally just write about myself. Anyways, I like it... I think.
Restless Prince; Once a Year, Every Year
Poor prince, you’re terribly restless,
Kings and queens treat layers like they’re candles,
“But… it’s not a wedding, guys!”
Spectacles are for spectators,
And we’ve got a lot of ‘em here.
Build a fourth wall out of your golden hair
And stare at it blankly.
Children relate you to dogs,
They have no idea how you can see.
The jack-in-the-box just depresses you,
It pops once and then hangs limply over the side.
Set his box against the wall, he leans and sighs.
Does it glance over its shoulder,
When you turn your back,
And stuff its springs back down?
Oh, every spring, it comes again.
You fend it off. You’ve got enough,
No one ever has enough of you.
An extra helping, make sure I get the sidepiece,
With the flower. The flower that limps over every year.
When the sun leaps out and melts it,
Someone scoop it from the ground quick.
Dip in every fingertip, and lick.
Scorpions and spiders in the grab bags,
Guests chatter about how polite he is.
A pervasive silence hovering over his shoulders.
He feels eyes. They come from presents of other years,
That slump and lean and sigh and,
Try their hardest to remind him that
Even in the corner, still wrapped.
It’s coming back, it’s coming back,
And soon you’ll be the king.
Oh jooooy… then they’ll throw another party,
Won’t they?
Well, it's about time I stuck my head in here. OK, let's see:
Overall, I liked it, although some parts seemed to bog it down and not really add to the vision of the boy's birthday.
"Kings and queens treat layers like they’re candles,
'But… it’s not a wedding, guys!'"
I believe you could rehash this line to make it both strike harder and be more easily understood by the average reader on their first glance. Also, the dialog seems out of place for the mockingly royal setting.
Also, the "Build a fourth wall of your golden hair and stare at it blankly" line; I don't know if you really like it, but it does nothing for me. That image just makes me imagine and emo child staring at his long straight hair. Yes, it shows him absolutely abhorring the situation that he is in, but at the cost of making him seem like an apathetic character, which he's not.
I like the second verse better; it's seems like more of your natural voice. I would also say, depending on whether the boy is a sharp or dry sarcastic, to change,
"Oh jooooy..." to "Oh joy!..."
The train of "o's" makes for an eyesore, although I get what you are trying to show. Just trying to help the aesthetics
Overall, I liked it, although some parts seemed to bog it down and not really add to the vision of the boy's birthday.
"Kings and queens treat layers like they’re candles,
'But… it’s not a wedding, guys!'"
I believe you could rehash this line to make it both strike harder and be more easily understood by the average reader on their first glance. Also, the dialog seems out of place for the mockingly royal setting.
Also, the "Build a fourth wall of your golden hair and stare at it blankly" line; I don't know if you really like it, but it does nothing for me. That image just makes me imagine and emo child staring at his long straight hair. Yes, it shows him absolutely abhorring the situation that he is in, but at the cost of making him seem like an apathetic character, which he's not.
I like the second verse better; it's seems like more of your natural voice. I would also say, depending on whether the boy is a sharp or dry sarcastic, to change,
"Oh jooooy..." to "Oh joy!..."
The train of "o's" makes for an eyesore, although I get what you are trying to show. Just trying to help the aesthetics