The SDMB Poetry Corner

In My Humble Opinion
1

I’m tempted to put this in MPSIMS, where more people would see it, but this is really more of a “What do you think of this poem” than “post a limerick!”. It doesn’t have quite the seriousness for a GD thread, and we’re not exactly debating the relative merits of any particular poem in here.

Anyway. Post a poem you wrote in here and let the Teeming Millions offer you advice. And since it’s my idea I’ll open myself up to criticism first:

Strength Personified

She walks the line thin as a blade
She is complete, though knows it not.
She might be split in two by now;
Her inner strength won’t let her fade.

For she is strength personified
if ever such a thing could be.
She takes all given her in stride
She’s strength personified to me.

And you who wait for her to fall
Don’t know the power of her soul.
It will not let her drop the ball
Nor let her be less than her whole.

She will not lose to any fear
That has her walk; It knows this not.
It thinks that she will not survive
But to its end she’s drawing near.

For she is strength personified
if ever such a thing could be.
She takes all given her in stride
She’s strength personified to me.

There is the innate sense in there,
That mind of hers, sharp as the line
She walks each day- that life does not
entail just tests but, at the end,
a peace among the laurels there.

I know that she can see that line
Where she can rest forever more.
She’ll have looked fear in the face
And she’ll have triumphed, she’ll be fine.

So wait, you who don’t think she can.
Look on, observe her handle all
that you would throw to set her off.
She’ll prove you wrong time and again.

For she is strength personified
if ever such a thing could be.
She takes all given her in stride
She’s strength personified to me.

Thoughts? Opinions? Do I need to find more productive things to do with my time?

2

Very nice, iampunha. I’m not a big fan of modern metered verse, personally, but your structure was well maintained, and your point of view/emotion was very clearly and fluidly expressed.

All right, quid pro quo time.

“Emotional Vampirism”

We were the night
Dark, bold,
mysterious and impassioned
We embodied the potential

even where the throngs
couldn’t see
In every hidden corner
of our hearts and lives

we found new adventures
new prizes
in every touch the
bottom of a Cracker Jack box

Now the sky is turning
There’s hideously bright light looming
on the horizon
Foreshadowing our conclusion.

3

Fallen Angel: Nice use of imagery. Although I tend to write with more structure, sometimes abandoning structure is a good direction for a poem, and I think it fits nicely with yours.

Time to ante up, I guess.

“Anguish”

I could write a million epistles
Of the way your silence pricks me to the heart
But how could I send it?
I think things out, and I know better
So I rid myself of anguished letters
Before they have a chance to play a part.
And you sting like salt in a paper cut
And you howl like a dog at the moon
When all’s said and done, at the end, there are none,
But I wish you would come home soon.
I wish and I hope in my orisons
That some word would appear
But my house is bare.
Of the comfort I’d take in a simple note
None appear on the horizon
Why should I care?
You’re as dark as November funeral
And as unsettling as an irrational fear
Here I am, here I’ll stay, and all I can say
Is I wish you’d remember me here.

4

FallenAngel, you seem to incorporate some meaning behind the spacing of your words, so these suggestions are with that in mind. And take them as that, please, and not as “this is how you should do it”. I used to write poetry, back in high school, that moved all around the place.

“Emotional Vampirism”

“We were the night”
Dark, bold,
mysterious"

Play with words here. Use a bold font for bold, italicize mysterious, do something funky with dark.

and empassioned [sub]Sorry, English major tendency:)[/sub]

“We embodied the potential”

Put potential perhaps in almost-letters, like if you were to write and not have your pencil on the paper all the time? Like use dotted lines for the word to indicate it hasn’t reached its potential, so to speak:)

“even where the throngs”

Try to play with the meaning of the word. Make it take up more space, maybe? Capitalize it to indicate that it’s people?

“In every hidden corner”

Use the meaning of the word; play with the text:) Try doing this, maybe:


In every                                 [sub]corner[/sub]

And put “hidden” perpendicular to that.

“in every touch the
bottom of a Cracker Jack box”

Make bottom seem like it. Put it below the rest of the line, maybe?

“Now the sky is turning”

Use the word to its fullest extent.

“There’s hideously bright light looming”

A lighter font for looming.

“Foreshadowing our conclusion.”

Foreshadowing . . . there has to be a textual effect for shadowing. For shadowing . . . foreshadowing. Get it? ::ducks::

This is part of how I used to write this type of poetry. I played with words.

Nocturne . . .

The end of the poem doesn’t match the title. Other than that … I have never been able to criticize formed poetry well.

5

Looking in the mirror, I can see
It’s the emotional notions of the damned
That drive me
Feeling your passionate gaze on me
As you wrap your arms in a hostile embrace
Around me
Fragments of the hem of my silk dress
Are tattered and worn like my lost sensations
Without me
They dream of the life; I long to seem
Like I make more of my life than that serene
Thought of She
Hung by their shackles along the wall
They are condemned by the Inquisitor
Almighty
His hollow eyes continue to stare
And burn through the souls of those he dares to judge
Behind me
Well, that’s what I’ve got. I’m thinking of continuing and making it a bit less/more vauge/confusing. I haven’t decided which way my thoughts will go.

6

I’m not one to critique other’s poetry, but I’ll post one of mine here. Would be nice to hear some unbiased opinions of it (no matter how cheesy my poem seems to be). Was an assignment for class, and every line had to begin with “I Am”

I am a life of continuous reformation.
I am a survivor of an unwanted pregnancy
I am indebted to my father, my savior.
I am a teenager rising above emotional degredation
I am unaccompanied by familiarity, and
I am one solitary voice.

I am an eagle spreading my wings
I am shot down by the mysteries of love.
I am a mother relinquishing all parental rights
I am a portrait of my mother.
I am a survivor of a destructive disease
I am indebted to my God, my savior.

I am a young adult beating the odds
I am surrounded by new choices, and
I am now many voices.
I am an eagle soaring above all those treacherous mountains
I am taking advantage of my second chance, and now
I am “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost.
I am a portrait of myself.
-ldb98

7

Good poems so far. I must admit I haven’t written a poem in years, but drudging up some of my old poetry I found one I might as well post. It is a bit juvinille perhaps, as it was one of my first attempts at poetry, but its the only one that isn’t morbid as hell.

This one I call Love’s Tear;

*Upon the death of that single tear,
comes a new and twisted year,
made of hope and filled with sadness,
that tear will bring us death and madness

Closer and closer the wind brings it here,
concieved on faith, born by fear,
why it waits, nobody knows,
for on that tear, the wind still blows.

Like a stranger it remains unknown,
sadly, these are the seeds that we have sown,
Hell runs loose in a blood-soaked sky,
Borne by winds, the tear soars high.

Mangled vines of Fate’s own design,
Into an eternal cage will it confine,
With an Iron fist, Chaos rules its kingdom,
And a single tear denied its freedom.

A land in flames cries out in rage,
A God in heaven turns the page,
Shakes his head, control is gone,
Drowning in the sun, a single tear dies upon the Dawn.

It’s old, and I never was much of a Poet, be brutal. :slight_smile:

8

As I stopped by the side of the road
to rest my weary soul against a tree,
I heard soft sweet singing whispered on the wind
Like that of a secret just out of reach
Wanting your truth, I let the whisper lead me
Guide me to your estate. Your song clear now
Such a sorrowful melody, it surrounded me
I looked up searching for a glimpse of you…
I called out, but my words went unheeded
Unheard over your weeping.

If I could climb this wall, clear the tears from your eyes,
I would show you the sun and flowers again…

But alas, your wall was too high, and perfectly smooth
with no where for my hands to grip, not one solitary foothold
My chin dropped to my chest, but I did not leave just yet,
only stood to listen, motionless, never wanting to move.
When the courage did finally strike my feet,
for my heart would not go, they carried me to a field
where your tower fades out of sight. I spread my arms out,
leaning my head back and for a while I stood still.
Clouds rolled in as rain gently cleansed my soul,
Washing away tears of my own.

9

Ohhh very cool poems… I have quite a few and one I would love to post up for you opinion but it is long so I won’t (something like an epic about a Dragon) so here is one of my more recent ones which I got inspired for after reading… well you can guess from the poem smiles

And Still She Sleeps

Deepest sleep
Slow heartbeats
Slower breaths
Flicker of eyes
As dreams are dreamt

Of a true love
A prince to give a kiss
To break the spell
Waken the princess
Draw her out

Of her gilded cage
Protected from death
Protected from life
To live for real
In a different world

A world changed
Gone by in slumber
A new place
The land she knew
But no more

For now the roses
Guard her well
Thorns protecting
From living
And heartbreak

When the true love comes
The hedges shall part
And let him in
But he does not come
And still she sleeps

10

(the room falls silent)
(everyone gasps in anticipation)
(in walks…BADNEWSBABOON, minimalist poet)
(walks up to mike in center of stage)
(wearing nifty capri pants and turtleneck, black)
(Snazzy berret gleams in spotlight)
(pulls off cat glasses)
(surveys room)

I call this one

“Springtime’s Dawn Casts a Shadow on a Lover’s Suicide”
sorrow

(crowd goes wild)

Thank you very much
groovey, baby
(walks off stage)

11

no but really,

snazzy poems all!

I don’t mean to goof on any of them.
its just the baboon’s silly way of showing appreciation.

I simply adore ee cummings.

12

This is my first, and I think best,sestina.
Breaking of the Moon

I stare at the too-white moon.
Beautiful, but I’m sure it will break
And on the ground shatter after immutable fall.
The pieces broken, beautiful, from which flames spring,
Then dissolved combusted so fast.
And once complete the world can sleep.

But I cannot sleep.
Not while so brightly shines the moon,
Reminding me that hearts were meant to break,
And spirits into depths of blackness fall
To where no hope can spring
And time moves slowly, never fast.

I cannot eat so I fast.
No dreams when I sleep
Except of him and the orb of the moon.
Thoughts set my nerves to break,
Feeling almost like I’m going to fall
If I wasn’t wound as tight as a spring.

Did I meet him in the Spring?
I can’t remember, it happened too fast.
Images of him still people my sleep,
I think of him when I see the moon.
Until I met him I thought I’d never break.
I wasn’t ready to fall.

Oh but how I did fall,
A time for love they say, the Spring.
Never to me did it happen that fast.
I wanted to watch him sleep,
Under sun, under stars, under moon.
I wanted nothing but for the spell never to break.

The spell, then my heart, did break.
It was over in late Fall.
That which only begun early Spring.
A love so fleeting, gone so fast.
The pain reaches into sleep,
I dream of Jealous laughing moon.

The moon too will break.
I’ll smile to see it fall this Spring,
While he, indifferent fast shall sleep.
-srw
10/97

13

I’ve enjoyed reading all the poems here. I’d appreciate it if any of you could take a few minutes to check out a few of mine at http://www.geocities.com/between_whispers

Drop me a couple of comments too. I’d really like to hear what you think of them. Thanks in advance.

14

Wrong.

15

Shakespeare is Cool
Shakespeare is Keen
But lying in the dark he’s gotten very green
Shakespeare was a goody
Shakespeare was an oldie
But sitting six feet under he’s getting rather moldy
Shakespeare should be studied
Shakespeare should be read
Oh too bad, Shakespeare is Dead.

Copyright 1989

16

For more of my poetry, visit: http://www.angelfire.com/indie/rawkstar/poetry.html

I’d be appreciative of any comments…thanks. :slight_smile:

17

Ode to Candy Corn:
Triptych Ambrosia

It depends on your mood, she said
You can either pop them in your mouth whole
Like this (she did it, eating six or seven at once)
Or, you can separate them
White tip first
Then thick, soft orange
Then yellow.
We paused as she did this,
Demonstrating her deftness
At separating the candy.
If you’re feeling zany, she said,
Starting to laugh,
You can take the yellow bottoms and
Stick them on your teeth
Like sweet, sticky caps
And then your teeth look like
They’re made of corn!

18

I got the title for this from a friend of mine. It was originally going to be about her.

Then I got the rest of it, more or less, during a class. So here it is:

What I Need is You

Daddy, look at me today!
I’m growing up while you’re away.
Your work means so much less to me
That being with you everyday.

I want you to come home from work
The money’s not the thing
I need you here with me today
Come see me walk, come hear me sing

Daddy, look at me today!
I’m growing up while you’re away.
Your work means so much less to me
That being with you everyday.

I don’t care about the stuff
the toys or bikes or trains
They don’t replace you in my life
You comforting me when it rains

Daddy, look at me today!
I’m growing up while you’re away.
Your work means so much less to me
That being with you everyday.

I’m much too big to ride the bike
that you bought “just” for me
you didn’t know how tall I was
You would if you were home with me

Daddy, look at me today!
I’m growing up while you’re away.
Your work means so much less to me
That being with you everyday.

I’m off to junior high school now
but you don’t notice me
in your eyes I’m five or six
not five times two or four times three

Dad, you lost your chance with me
I’m 20. I’m a man.
And when I’m married with a son
I’ll be the best dad that I can.

You lost your chance with your first son
Your daughter hates you, too.
I spend much more time with my son
than you would ever stay to do.

The wealth you had I just don’t want
It wasn’t good for me
I much prefer a father to
the money you gave mom and me

“Daddy, Daddy!” my son yells
And to him now I go
You never heard, you never came
At least I’ll be there to say “no”.

He won’t have all the toys I had
But fathers do not rust
And trains don’t play with boys the way
A father really ought and must

And now you’re in a coffin, dad.
I saw your face that day
you’ve been dead to me for so long
Your title “Dad” I shouldn’t say.

Goodbye, pop. I wish I’d known
How it would really be
To see my father every night,
have him spend time at home with me

So here’s a note for all the men
with boys and girls to feed
Spend time with your kids, play and care
Be a good father; that’s what they need.

Oh, and re: poetry pages, I have a page of stuff that I hope to turn into songs here. I made an MPSIMS thread about it but nobody responded, so I figured while I had people’s attention I’d see what people think of other stuff that’s there. Most of it is decent, if that, but there are some good bits in among the weeds.

Someday I’ll be able to get class credit for this stuff . . . :slight_smile:

19

A girl who is fat
Will marry her cat.

20

In my eyes, there is nothing better you COULD be doing.

(ok, so it takes a close second to sex…) But keep it up, anyways. :slight_smile:
Any for everyone-Hurray for you! Keep writing!