RE: Poem Critiques

Kristi

Just a girl with a kid tryna make a living,
So many mistakes in her life and none of them forgiven.
A struggle everyday just to take that first step,
knowing that somewhere down the road she's gonna fall again.

Theres a little one to handle, a lil package she has to send,
what would become of that little one if this girl she were to end?
Theres friends that care about the things in her life, everything that she does,
but what goes wrong in this girls life doesn't really effect us.

Share the pain, emotion, then fake it for the day,
her friends never knowing that its really not okay.
Smile for the little girl, that one for which she does strive,
never let the package know mommy wants to end her life.

Hope that maybe one day, even through it all,
someone will hold her up and catch her comes the fall.
Hope that those aborted, found another life,
and pray for this girl so troubled, a friend, a mom, a wife.

Misery

What do you make of this?

Misery

The pane exacts a penalty
the fly does not see
that he dances with misery
in this reflection

RE: Poem Critiques

Here's what I think...

The title "Misery" is Suffering

The fly is a person or you
You were dancing or sinning
As you did not see its reflection
You bumped on a window glass
It's painful and you're suffering.

Tell the person to repent
Apologized to the person he offended...

The advice I'll give you is in the part of No. 5 Act of contrition I am memorizing from St. Andrew's Missal and before I found it, my Catholic Church is St. Andrew.

"... I am heartily sorry that I have spent that time in offending You which You made me to be employed in Your service, in advancing the good of my own soul, and obtaining everlasting life. I am sorry, above all things, that I have offended You, because You are infinitely good, and sin is infinitely displeasing to You. I desire to love You with my whole heart, and I firmly AIM, by the help of Your grace, to serve You more faithfully in the time to come. Receive, I ask You, the offering I now make as the remainder of my life. I renew the vows and promises made in my baptism. I renounce the devil, and all his works, the world, and all his desire. I now begin, and will endeavor to spend this day according to Your holy will, performing all my actions in a manner pleasing unto You. I will take particular care to avoid the failings I am to commit, and to exercise the virtues most agreeable to my state and employment".

God Bless

RE: Misery

RE: RE: Misery

RE: RE: Poem Critiques

Jacqueline, but you make this more of you than of the poem. As each of us we have our own panes that we struggle against. I am grateful for the peace I am given through prayer and faith.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Jacqueline51712

Here's what I think...

The title "Misery" is Suffering

The fly is a person or you
You were dancing or sinning
As you did not see its reflection
You bumped on a window glass
It's painful and you're suffering.

Tell the person to repent
Apologized to the person he offended...

The advice I'll give you is in the part of No. 5 Act of contrition I am memorizing from St. Andrew's Missal and before I found it, my Catholic Church is St. Andrew.

"... I am heartily sorry that I have spent that time in offending You which You made me to be employed in Your service, in advancing the good of my own soul, and obtaining everlasting life. I am sorry, above all things, that I have offended You, because You are infinitely good, and sin is infinitely displeasing to You. I desire to love You with my whole heart, and I firmly AIM, by the help of Your grace, to serve You more faithfully in the time to come. Receive, I ask You, the offering I now make as the remainder of my life. I renew the vows and promises made in my baptism. I renounce the devil, and all his works, the world, and all his desire. I now begin, and will endeavor to spend this day according to Your holy will, performing all my actions in a manner pleasing unto You. I will take particular care to avoid the failings I am to commit, and to exercise the virtues most agreeable to my state and employment".

God Bless

RE: Poem Critiques

Forgive me if I'm basing it about life because that is how I am. I don't want to be here anymore... I'm no good. How can I take myself out?

RE: RE: RE: Misery

Last edited by RHPeat 02-04-2010 at 10:57:44 PM

RE: Poem Critiques

I'm sorry but I am here to let people who are still living have the chance to read/hear the truth. As I am telling people including the person that is working in the Catholic,

"I cannot change what's true" Read my poems to know what I'm talking about.

RE: RE: RE: RE: Misery

Yes you are correct I do like it better with "within".

Misery

The pane exacts a penalty
the fly does not see
he dances with misery
within his reflection

quote="RHPeat"]

RE: Poem Critiques

For some reason this one has been hard for me to write. Please critique and comment.

Thank you!

Deva Amido


[bAFTER WORD WAR II][/b]

My whole life’s direction is pursuing perfection
Defined in terms of the “War-to-End-Wars”.
My personal quest’s been to sort out the best
As to what Is the best, there is no acid test.

So I’ll borrow the usual misapprehensions:
“1) If Santa brings joy to the door
I’m entitled to free stuff galore”.
“2) Efficient is good”, 3) “Wasting anything’s bad”,
4) "I never should need to work as hard as my Dad".

Didn’t we mostly agree? So then why are we sad?
Could it be that the “me” that got wasted so bad
Was the only “real me” that we ever have had?

These are thoughts as a young man I truly abhorred!
As I tailored my life more and more as "they" said
And filtered most “real life” out with my head,
While my spirit seeped down through the floor.

I learned self-restraint and I learned sacrifice
When called to the Air Force I never thought twice
I learned what they told us we’d need to survive.
We mostly returned (except those who died).

We applied what we’d learned from the War more and more:
“Efficient employees get just enough rest to get up the next day;
Work elbow to elbow along with all of the rest,
To see who can double the score”.

Worshiping work, one by one, some chose early demise,
And the ones who won always seem bored.
Others dropped to their knees and prayed to the Lord
To let us enjoy some of the fruit from the vine
At a cost that we all can afford.

Gods made in Man’s image are never divine,
And this war god we've worshiped is best left behind.
It’s evil He’s sewing in the soil of our minds,
Leaving Mankind a gift of the bitter-root vine.
Earth cannot bear much more pain from Mankind.

If no gods were there, then why should we care?
With none to give thanks to for our family’s share,
If no God to worship is there,
Then who sits in God’s Holy Chair?

The titular heir would be Man
But most men are absent, attending to infant demands
And who keeps men glued to such infantile commands?
Why, the women who woo
Him by touching
His hand,
Making him think what he’s
Doing is something that's grand”.

Is that all there is about Woman or Man?
Well, freedom is there for a person to choose
But freedom’s when nothing worthwhile’s left to lose.
That's when God shines through everything, not just the booze
So search for your freedom; if you want to, you can:

When alone isn’t lonely, be you Woman or Man
And you’ve given up singing the blues,
When surrender's the pathway you choose,
That's when you’ll soon walk
in a Holy One’s shoes.

Fit then to lead us
You may not
Want to
!

Copyright February 8, 2010
Crazy Grampa

Last edited by devaamido 02-10-2010 at 10:02:51 AM

RE: "Daddy Left" LET ME KNOW PLEASE!

RE: Misery

Clever!
And haven't we all wondered about the seemingly inexhaustible energy of a fly when returning to the closed window hours after first seeing him- and he's still pounding away trying to force the glass out of his way. If I were a Monk perhaps I'd whisk him towards the part of the window that's actually open.
[Confessions of a callous youth.]

http://www.originalpoetry.com/img/smileys/hmm.gif

Last edited by NevillePark 03-25-2010 at 12:12:10 AM

RE: Re: Poem Critiques

Quote:

Originally Posted by Secretdreams

Yeah I want comments how to improve.

RE: Re: Poem Critiques

The Angels Cry

After this I saw four angels standing at the four corners of the earth, holding back the four winds of the earth to prevent any wind from blowing on the land or on the sea or on any tree. ~Revelation chapter seven, verse one
[Sometimes the angel is a reluctant messenger in earthly affairs].

The end of wind power on earth. The behemoths cease to churn out the juice which man is so used to drinking.
Anywayz ...It's just the first thing coming to mind as I read it so thought it appropriate. .

I have a couple of things to input LG. Meter ... For me, the more poems I write, the more import I see with its function in poems which are using rhyme. You are hardly slack in your effort to find a workable cadence in your poem. In fact you don't do a bad job of it at all. Yet In a couple of spots with this poem, it seems meter suffers because of the conjunctives "the & and".
Detail is always to be fleshed out and made specific and identifiable, (as they tell us in writing class). You've got that message, but I think you need to hone it till it cuts paper. Descriptors can be target specific if you know they exist. Have you ever considered sitting down with an "exhaustive" Thesaurus? Goal being to spend an hour a day reading it like you would a fiction novel? Many are the ways we have to say the same thing and it behooves us to discover them.
~NevillePark

::

"Stuck at Sea"

He sits there, watching those around him, deaf ear to all.
He sits in his normal spot, sipping his drink, waiting for his end to come, to afraid to cause it himself.

Pain ravaging his soul, tearing him to shreds, inside and out.
Loosing himself in a stormy sea of sadness and hate.

Gone, stuck on a raft in the eye of the storm.
Drops of self hatred, large drops rain on top of him, keeping him seated at the middle of the raft, forced down by the pain of each little drop.

Only a small paddle to try and escape those waters, to escape that merciless sea.
Paddling as hard as he can there is no escape.

Happiness drowned.
Depression, a shark circling that raft, forcing him to stay afloat.

Afraid to take the plunge into the dark waters in a vast attempt to escape this hell he remains in.
Voices leak through, voices of those who tell him a truth he’s come to accept.

“You’re worthless!” The voices yell.. “You’re nothing!”
He listens to those voices to be the truth. After so long of listening.

He sits on his raft day after day, seas never calming, happiness never breaking through.
Just swells of sadness, waves of hatred, whirlpools taking him deeper and farther into the vast oceans of pain in his mind.

Stuck in this place, never able to leave, never able to live..
He is stuck in a place forcing him into sadness, forcing him into a spot where he is unable to be truly happy.

Though able to fake it, nobody ever notices the true sadness within his mind, the true loneliness.
The thoughts that pass through his mind, never to truly be revealed.

Stuck in this world, Stuck in his mind, stuck in his sadness and stuck in his pain.
Nobody to help him, nobody to sate his craving for attention, to feed his need for love.

So thus the boy is stuck there, sitting in his place, on his raft, hoping for a savior that he knows will never come.

RE: Poem Critiques ____My poem....THE MARCH TO HELL 2/5....is in the WEEKLY cont

My poem....THE MARCH TO HELL 2/5....is in the WEEKLY contest. I hope to have a few views, because it is EASILY one of my favorite poems. I do have a very unconventional & purely original style.

http://www.originalpoetry.com/the-march-hell-25

RE: Poem Critiques

Three red roses...

for an untold love,
whose nectar and pulp the butterfly sips
to sustain its flight, until night time comes,
when they offer rest, on their velvety palms;

three red roses, on whose delicate lips
my tears have settled while I picked them this morn,
like lace of pearls strung for your satin skin,
tokens of such unconfessed love, forlorn;

three red roses, petal...after petal,
sear and wither, dry up to their cores,
of whose sharp thorns have left so much pain
on my papery palm, my blood restores
the red of their petals, and so withal,
the fleeting scent of my unexpressed love

Hi everyone, I've been a member of this site since 2009, but i haven't been active until now, as I am catching up on writing once again.

If you feel for this poem please like, rate, comment and support it in the weekly contest, thank you and continue writing everyone:

http://www.originalpoetry.com/three-red-roses

I Still Wanna Move

I Still Wanna Move

I wanna move-
ligaments in my brown flesh
to extend arms
too the air that speaks.
I wanna move-
beyond the thunder that moves
to strike me-
like rain that covers my eyes,
like darkness in tunnels,
covering the brown of my skin-
like vietnam in my heart.
I still wanna move
when passion crushes my pump-
in every decibel,
when the london bridge comes-
balanced on my cranium
and my feet fall to pray,
I still wanna move.
When joy is bleak
like the white narrow lines
down a curved highway road,
through the days of darkness
when the fight is a shadow-
breathing heavily, afraid to sleep-
I... still wanna move
until GOD..... judges me.

RE: I Still Wanna Move

Last edited by RHPeat 01-29-2011 at 12:25:03 PM

RE: Poem Critiques

Thank you I will make these changes here.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I Still Wanna Move

I wanna move-
ligaments in my brown flesh
to extend arms
in the air that speaks.



I wanna move-
beyond the thunder that moves
to strike me-
like rain that covers my eyes,
like darkness in tunnels,
covering the brown of my skin-
like vietnam in my heart.



I still wanna move
when passion crushes my pump-
in every decibel,
when the london bridge comes,
is balanced on my cranium
and my feet fall to pray,



I still wanna move.
When joy is bleak
like the white narrow lines
down a curved highway road,
through the days of darkness
when the fight is a shadow-
breathing heavily, afraid to sleep-



I... still wanna move
until GOD..... judges me.

Last edited by optimistic 01-29-2011 at 01:31:19 PM

RE: Poem Critiques

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ LOVE HEARTLESSNESS
Stop


listen to my love
rows of cupcakes
until you blow
the candle.
Listen to my heart
fervent Infatuated
five fingers grabbing
the round ends of your
soul piece by piece.
Instilling in you
Emotions
now at the shaft
of an inkling

You
You

you tear it apart.

Diamond
a womans destiny
or lies in between
the outcome of self

Did you want to
shine?

Tears
Broil down
My eyes
as they burn
away the pain.

Pain

Frequently
Tampering
darts pulled from my head

Do you Remember
as times were
Romeo and Juliet?

what happen to you
what happen to you

The eggshells
cracked
when you
had your sight
on another specimen
then you smiled
yet it wasn't me


The pillow
decrease
in size
and your
pale skin
loss its sense
of involvement

Yes I could
smell you

the scent of a
different flavor
No longer the smell

Love
No longer the smell

Love


My nose runs
across your hair
as you sleep

A rose

The smell
of a rose.

the Rose was
alive blossomed
yet the smell
of my love was dying

You pretended

You're a good pretender

as I lay in silence
my eyes close

My five fingers crawl away

Bleeding

I smell the scent
of the candles burning
to the cuticles of my skin

Distilled water
washing away
emotions

I think

Why me

not

Why me

just





LOVE HEARTLESSNESS.

RE: Poem Critiques

THANKS SORRY DID NOT THINK OF THIS

RE: RE: Poem Critiques

Quote:

Originally Posted by optimistic

THANKS SORRY DID NOT THINK OF THIS

RE: Poem Critiques

I'll do that thanks.