What do you think about my poems?
im only in 7th grade and i know it might not be the best. honesty is much appreactited. For only god knows. Why seasons change. why love dies. why people act the way they do. for only god knows how words cannot be undone. how the human mind works. how easy it is to forgive. For only god knows. what eveyones here for. what lies people told. what happends when you die. for only god knows. when you will feel disapointment. when you will fail and when you will succede. for only god really knows. and. are you walking on some kind of red carpet? thats what it looks like. only you shouldent be so proud. for you are not a model, nor even colse to being a role model. all i wanted was a second chance. a second chance to show you how much i cared. a second chance. a second dance.
My new poem....let me know what you think.?
Ahhhh, in "Frank style"! Love it. Tried to look up the micteration title word. Can't find it, but then I've never heard of bass ale either. Still, your poems are so stimulating and flow like the rivers you mention here :O))) I love beer myself, icy cold in the summer. Never heard of bass ales. I've heard ales are much stronger than beer and 3 of them! wow didn't think you could hold that long !!! :o)))))
Do you like my new poem?
gas attacks and bean burritos cleared rooms i stand alone before my own judge and jury take a whiff of the crimes commited i have no posession of judgement day so as long as women can breath and drink from thy well kn'st i ferbreeze the winds a fresh daisy you shall smell
What do you think of poetry?
I wonder what facet of poetry you refer to - it’s impact? It’s unity? The tangible rhyme scheme and meter of it? I will just assume all of the above and allow myself to ramble ;)Poetry, to me, is the life spring of human language. Of course we require the oceans of vocabulary and the rivers of practical speech to carry our day to day interactions. But oh, bliss of heaven! to tap into those hidden mountain springs of tranquil and ferocious thought..Poetry is beautiful for its rawness. The rawness of poets like Poe, simultaneously enraptured and terrified by the power of the dark. The rawness of Longfellow and the epic power of his meter (The Seaside and the Fireside). The rawness of dear Lord Byron, sweetly melancholic and aching for all the pain and pride of living..Poetry is unifying. At the core of every human soul pangs the longing for something greater. As a Christian myself, I know this ache in me to be the longing for Heaven. We long to play an integral part in this human drama, and poets from all ages and nations, centuries and backgrounds, they capture and reflect this exquisitely through the language of the life spring. The more poetry I read, the more open I am to different kinds. I’ll read a poem and think to myself, “Oh, how scattered… this is too harsh for my liking.” And then I remember the uniqueness of the soul behind the writing, and the message being sent with a vulnerable spirit, and I see it suddenly in new color. Look into The Poetry Foundation. You just might like what you find.
Do you like my new poem?
nice, bro. I LIKE the use of "wealthing" as a verb, it was one of two things that caught my eye on first read. second was "green tapestry/woven mint for me" which gave me visions of expansive carpets laid throughout the mansion made of hundred and thousand dollar bills. I take "bottom most line/untouchability" to mean that at the very least the monetary answer to your prayer should make you comfortable enough that you never have to worry about money... "Capital City trickle up" throws me, and though I guess I understand the line on its own, I don't get its meaning as the last line of the whole piece.... I don't mind that, I just wonder if I'm missing something.
What do you think about this poetry?
I like it. powerful, frightening, sad. Please do not be offended about the changes I suggest, they are just my thoughts. I too get stiff when someone makes suggestions but then again, just take it objectively.Although free form there are places too wordy to flow well and the THEY you used was out of text with your 1st person voice.I learned from great critique and have begun to win state competitions and allowed my poems to be printed.The adjustments need to be made in overuse of words. Since it is a free form the rhythm has leeway.I have learned to go back once I’ve written a poem, to then clean up the splinters.Splinters to me are over descriptive words,This poem is dramatic so it needs to build into a crescendo - pause- and layknow I don’t!(crescendo) -(pause)so here I stay ( stop suddenly quietly and lay)brushes sensually - (try) as the air caresses my skinit’s like a sigh of relief (try) With every breath comes reliefIn a flash & (try) In a flash , all becomes dull and grayI can’t smile (try) I can’t smile, I can’t laugh (leave with them off)I can see (try) I see worry creep onto facesI feel (try) I feel warmth fizzle away(try) as I fall into the chill of a mental abyss.I’m a nimbus to the sunA shower in the springOh! to make it right, to come outknow how to get back… I don’t!so here I stay.Your poem is very though provoking. good luckwords fillers, = that, just, a and, so,
How do you think about poetry?
The mystery of life expressed in words through the engineering of both rational and emotional intelligence. Genuine poetry is about life because in death all poetry is brought to absolute end. How much of life can you feel? As far as God is what I have felt sometimes. So, as you can see, I need to see God in heaven one day because poetry runs in my veins and this world is very anti-poetical for my soul. It is suffocating me.This is the only poetry that was left after my brothers threw all of my poems away:Trespassing light of the sun’s joyKissing my face with sweet embers of passionFlooding my soul wih benevolent compassionRendering time freeFrom moment’s deathPoetry is any mystic experience revealed in photographical art, plastic art, painting, clay, and other elements of nature, or through writing, using the body as a channel of expression of the good or the beauty to witness that one has seen beyond a Matrix of survivance or into its mechanism of imprisonment, and transcended the immediateness of the obviousness in common to all animals, even the human biological and physiological animality, and consciously found the divine part of their being within, with the purity of the feelings of one’s soul. It can be feigned and forged by dreary lifeless matrixial intelligence and sophistic immitative turingan institutional mechanisms.And it can also be assisted by angels from heaven or by fallen angels of hell. The first lifts your spirit up to the greatest alterity possible, namely, to the panoramic view of the paradise that I know of, which is the place where God’s Love, Glory, and Beauty pervades; and the latter can make your spirit sink into the depths of the abyss of your own self to the doors of hell where the depression of absolute vanity and death awaits those who ignore a relationship with God.I only consider genuine poetry the first positive experience.