Post by thehuntingbeast on Sept 2, 2006 10:16:22 GMT -5
Okay I do have a few poems written from a while back so I'll go ahead and post some of them. Keep in mind I am also not a poet so watch out for the structure or grammer of that nature.
A Thousand Things My mind's a mess This I must confess Going a million miles a minute With too much stuff in it I have an old job to do And school to go through A story to tell Emotions and memories to quell Profiles to keep updated My curiosity can't be sated Hikes to take Camp sites to make Vacations to plan Shows to show if I can Books to read Gardens to seed My collection needs completion Got to worry about the audition Movies I need to see And why don't they let me be Music for me to hear People nagging in my ear History to learn Things to burn Difficult decisions to make Promises I can not break Places that need visiting Memorized songs to sing Languages to understand Won't someone please give me a hand A thousand things to finish And my person does diminish
So tell me what you think.
He who is unable to live in society, or who has no need because he is sufficient for himself, must be either a beast or a god.
Okay, firstly, gryphonpoet is a lot better than me at reading and deciphering the words and meaning behind the poem - I just see if it appeals to me in my limited experience and reading of famous poets.
I am amazed that you kept up the rhyme right until the end, I struggle intensely with trying to get a poem to rhyme, so well done ;D
Remember, not all poems have to rhyme. People try to identify poems from other pieces of written work by saying 'Ah, it rhymes, so it has to be a poem.' but if I remember correctly, some of Shakespere's plays rhymed, but they aren't poems as such. So try not to force a rhyme out of the lines - if this actually makes sense.
I liked how you related everything that runs through our head, the simple thngs that have to be done and just build up and up - until we clutch our head and say Shut up!
Lastly, don't say you are not a poet Everyone is a poet, dancer, artist, singer etc. Just keep writing, I can assure you that not every poem I write is fantastic and on the mark. I'll post bad poems later ;D
CTO Cmdr Raiser, USS Broadsword (ACTD) TO Lt.JG Ro'kar, USS Perseus (ACTD) "The warrior of Light, like the experienced fighter, knows his or her own immense strength and never fights someone who doesn't deserve the honour of combat" - Paulo Coehlo
Post by gryphonpoet on Sept 3, 2006 12:35:00 GMT -5
I agree with Kensai in that everyone has an artistic outlet. Humans need something to release their seriousness. Some use poetry, writing, dance, acting, restoring classic autos, woodworking, etc. etc. etc.
About the poem itself, I enjoyed the hectic pace you set by leaving out punctuation. It gives the reader a feeling of hurried along. When you kept going with the list, it gave me the overwhelmed sensation you must get from your life. Nice work in sharing it in words.
Usually exaggeration will work to make a point, but line 3, "Going a million miles a minute" feels a little stretched for the other lines around it. Million isn't necessary and with it, the line feels unbalanced in my head.
And the final couplet...
"A thousand things to finish And my person does diminish"
... sounds so strained that I had to read it three times to make sure that I had taken it in properly. I have a suggestion, but no matter what else, remember that this is your poem and it needs to be what you want it to be.
Maybe you can toy with those lines a little. Maybe something like this...
"A thousand things left unfinished And I feel completely diminished."
I think that still carries the idea you're getting to and still flows with the rest of the piece.
Over all, I like the work. It carries its message well in the length and lack of punctuation and it reads pretty well. Nice work.
Post by thehuntingbeast on Sept 4, 2006 23:41:47 GMT -5
For the million miles thing I tried to throw in some alliteration but I didn't want to try do them all like that. Yes I cheat like that. I tried to keep the lines short (just three to four words or five smaller words) to seem frantic and fast paced but a few, including this one, got a little out of hand.
The last lines I looked at past tense but felt the way it was got the message out that it ongoing and in front of you, even if it sounds wonky. (And it really does)
Thanks for the input I'll see if I can't put a few more up here soon.
He who is unable to live in society, or who has no need because he is sufficient for himself, must be either a beast or a god.
Post by thehuntingbeast on Nov 17, 2006 23:42:39 GMT -5
Okay I have another poem for you guys, it is a little dark and sad. This one is an older one but I still like it. I have a little tune in my head for it so I like to think of it more as a song.
So I Sigh There is a pair for e'ery other one, Happiness always has a price. My bondage will ne'er be undone, Can there be a thing as too nice?
I am left with the waste and refuse, Passed over for the unmolded. Someday my hope will be without a use, But I think my mind has finally folded.
Oh, why can't you hear, What rages behind my eyes? Watch out for my tears, No one here for me, so I sigh.
With a smile for e'ery face, There's music on e'ery voice. Love is all over the place, What happened to my choice?
Cotton is behind my lips, Cobwebs are in my head. My will, it slowly slips, And no comfort from my bed.
Oh, why can't you hear, What rages behind my eyes? Watch out for my tears, No one here for me, so I sigh.
E'ery other hand is holding a hand, I feel torture from strangers' kisses and flirts. Only one, alone I now stand, All the others have found a care.
My heart, so fleeting, has departed, Carried away on the tide. Along side another it is carted, So in you I must confide.
Oh, why can't you hear, What rages behind my eyes? Watch out for my tears, No one here for me, so I sigh.
Post by thehuntingbeast on Dec 25, 2006 17:50:05 GMT -5
These are my newest poems, the lead is still fresh on the paper. The first is only intended to express longing. It has little structure and doesn't rhyme but I like it.
Cabin Fever So here I sit upon my chair at my window, Watching a squirrel eat his fill of bird seed, Beyond him lies an empty field of stalks, Just past that is the tree line between fields, Hazy and seemingly distant because of the mist, A pale grey sky looms over the cold damp land, Farther away I know there is a forest, There a springhouse sits so peacefully, Long hours along the line is a bidder woods, With birch, oak, maple, and pine so soft, The rolling hills carry their trunks with ease, Now empty of their leafy canopy, White snow is drifting from the fluffy clouds, It makes the woods sparkle in the dim light, A light breeze brushes the branches, Releasing them of their blankets of snow, Tracks in the snow cross in complicated webs, Some deer prance about the haven of silver and brown, My mind, ever restless, plays among the forest creatures, And my body watches through a window of glass, So I await the chance to return there agian.
The second poem is shorter and a little more thought out.
This Thing Called Love What is this thing called love, Does it deal with a graceful dove, Can it keep you warm in winter, Will it help me find my center?
Love can take you to new heights, It can even show you brand new sights, Beyond the hopes and dreams of man, Nothing can make you feel like love can.
Will love ever let you down, Can it leave you without a sound, Do other things hurt this much, What else could harm you with a touch?
Nothing else is a gentle and kind, All this pain is in your mind, It will heal with love's might, Love won't leave without a fight.
He who is unable to live in society, or who has no need because he is sufficient for himself, must be either a beast or a god.
Post by gryphonpoet on Dec 26, 2006 0:36:53 GMT -5
I'm thinking that the first poem is good, but in its current state has become comma-tose. I suggest editing to long run-on into real and meaningful sentences. Doing that would help to express the longing easier.
The second poem does a good job in letting me feel the wonder of a new love. Any suggestion I could give would be semantical and, therefore, unimportant.
Post by thehuntingbeast on Jan 7, 2007 20:11:43 GMT -5
Okay here is one from my MySpace that I forgot to post to post here. I think I wrote before/after/during a camping trip. Or maybe I had gone too long without one? Hm I can't remember so anyway here it is.
The Traveler I travel many roads. Roads less traveled, some best left that way, I go from place to place, always seeking, from day to day.
There is always somewhere to roam, somewhere new or somewhere old, Nothing can stop me from moving on, not rain or cold.
I seek new discoveries and treasure my usual spots, With so much to explore you'd figure I'd be tied in knots.
Never stationary for long, I am ever moving on, I use roads that aren't or never will be or are gone.
Paths that can be risky, dangerous, and daring, Trails with no destination, I walk them all without caring.
No agenda or maps or compasses are needed, Warnings and advice and signs may go unheeded.
The wilderness will forever be my ultimate goal, So that I may connect and make a bridge for my soul.
He who is unable to live in society, or who has no need because he is sufficient for himself, must be either a beast or a god.
Everyone is a poet, dancer, artist, singer etc. Just keep writing, I can assure you that not every poem I write is fantastic and on the mark. I'll post bad poems later ;D
