tiredofvampires

Yes, I think it really is a strong piece. Though I have to hand it to you -- first, I cannot rhyme on command, so that is very hard unless you are a born rhymer (and I actually do think like Benedict in Much Ado About Nothing "I was not born under a rhyming planet"! ..unless I'm truly inspired.) And second, style and taste are so personal, it would be hard for me to write poetry for grades. I'd much rather stay with the writing/critique circles where you can get many different viewpoints...

So that's a toughie...

Your poems are quite strong though, rose!

One thing that really spices up my poems you might experiement with is creating ususual mixtures of verbs, using less-known verbs...or the standby of switching senses around like "hearing a jabbing sound" or "tasting something loud" to create a sense of surprise. Those are some of the things I like to play with a lot, but to then get that to rhyme as well can be tough.

Remember, this is just one professor, too. One opinion, even if she's a prof. Art is nothing if not subjective.

Powerful stuff. Quiet. But unbearable.

Oh TOV. I wish I could write happier things. The saddest part is that Michael ignited so much happiness in me. And now I am left feeling so sad. : /

 

"The saddest part of a broken heart, isn't the ending as much as the start."

-Feist

Oh, but it's important to write about the sad things, too, and you've done it with such a soft and penetrating voice. This is quite a simply a gem.

I hope you've got another soon, your poems always make me feel just what you're feeling.

You know what? This makes me soooo glad that I am no longer in school (though I want to go back) but to face this? You really captured the whole essense of it. It really feels labored (not the poem, the imagery), and just right!

And I feel for you about the rhyming, but you got it working. Well done!

Thank you, all...your words have really touched me, and made this all worth posting.

I was a little worried it might seem....cheesy....as it's not my usual style and rhyming is not easy for me. But this one didn't make it feel hard, and that's I guess when you know it's coming straight from the source...

And CC, what a matchless compliment that you would print it out!! What a stone HONOR! Thank you, sweet lady, for making me feel pretty great.

All of you.

Dags, this really gives so much clear insight into such a complicated world, which is love.

Love is not a simple thing to live, sometimes...and this is such a beautiful tribute to that one element that makes healing possible. Healing from anything. TRUST.

That you could feel and offer this is just more indication of just what a special and transformative version of love it is that you have experienced. And what you are capable of, in your patience and forebearance and faith. All those things, love should be.

This is just wonderful and I was so happy to see your poem posted here -- I've missed seeing your work so!

All my care, always....keep these coming because I just love love to read your stuff.

(This one is from a few years ago. I am dedicating it to everyone who is suffering the loss of a love, and most especially to a few dear ones here who have lost their perfect soulmates. You guys know who you are.)

WITHOUT

Thorns without the rose

Swan Lake without toes,

ladders without the rungs

breathing without lungs,

alphabet soup without abc’s

kneeling prayer without knees,

popsicles without the sticks

mortar without the bricks,

candles without wicks

bras without chicks,

music played without notes

dreams dreamed by rote,

pillow without a bed

stairs without treads,

trees with no trunk

basketball without the dunk,

chessboard without squares

waltzes without pairs,

celery without the stalk

blackboards without chalk,

sky without the blue

living life without you.

I can just picture this, melly....it makes me feel really, really sad.

As it should.

God! Life is so sad and depressing. Why do we even bother living???

Because there are many kinds of ways we can make our existence worth something.

Being born is a rare opportunity -- when you consider how many eggs and sperm are destroyed, and what it took to make all of us what it is...and to be able to think, and write a poem like this, and feel heartbroken because of love, and save other lives like Storeys does, and just make use of our one life here (if it's just one) with all our faculties is a damn hard job, and some have it harder. But in the end, a life is a special and infinitely important thing, and the loss of two lives cannot possibly rectify the loss of one.

I hope you re-read the OP's poem, Zombie, and maybe see all the fabulous reasons it's good to be alive. All the beautiful reasons that should not be discarded.

So take your place among the people whose poems I've read and cried to, Storeys.

It's so haunting, and visceral, and beautiful...I don't want to take away from it with too many words. You're a poet, and you must celebrate the depths and heights of life and your heart. Don't give up on either, dear soul.

The end has my spine shivering and tingling, and you know what I like best....the line about resting her head in "hopeful peaceful slumber." The hope is like a diamond in the poem...and your embrace so full of gentleness.

Keep this gentleness over the next days, within you. Gentle with yourself now...

I feel such an abiding wish for you to continue to see and experience all the beautiful things in the poem, again and again.

She wants you to, also. She is rejoicing with this poem, and weeps in relief for the light that returns to you.

(((hugs)))

(Two versions of the same poem...and I just couldn't choose, so...)

I was Dead

i was dead

i came alive

i was tears

i became laughter

all because of love

when it arrived

my temporal life

from then on

changed to eternal

love said to me

you are not

crazy enough

you don't

fit this house

i went and

became crazy

crazy enough

to be in chains

love said

you are not

intoxicated enough

you don't

fit the group

i went and

got drunk

drunk enough

to overflow

with light-headedness

love said

you are still

too clever

filled with

imagination and skepticism

i went and

became gullible

and in fright

pulled away

from it all

love said

you are a candle

attracting everyone

gathering every one

around you

i am no more

a candle spreading light

i gather no more crowds

and like smoke

i am all scattered now

love said

you are a teacher

you are a head

and for everyone

you are a leader

i am no more

not a teacher

not a leader

just a servant

to your wishes

love said

you already have

your own wings

i will not give you

more feathers

and then my heart

pulled itself apart

and filled to the brim

with a new light

overflowed with fresh life

now even the heavens

are thankful that

because of love

i have become

the giver of light

I Was Dead, Then Alive

I was dead, then alive.

Weeping, then laughing.

The power of love came into me,

and I became fierce like a lion,

then tender like the evening star.

He said, ‘You’re not mad enough.

You don’t belong in this house.’

I went wild and had to be tied up.

He said, ‘Still not wild enough

to stay with us!’

I broke through another layer

into joyfulness.

He said, ‘Its not enough.’

I died.

He said, ‘You are a clever little man,

full of fantasy and doubting.’

I plucked out my feathers and became a fool.

He said, ‘Now you are the candle

for this assembly.’

But I’m no candle. Look!

I’m scattered smoke

He said, ‘You are the Sheikh, the guide.’

But I’m not a teacher. I have no power.

He said, ‘You already have wings.

I cannot give you wings.’

But I wanted his wings.

I felt like some flightless chicken.

Then new events said to me,

‘Don’t move. A sublime generosity is

coming towards you.’

And old love said, ‘Stay with me.’

I said, ‘I will.’

You are the fountain of the sun’s light.

I am a willow shadow on the ground.

You make my raggedness silky.

The soul at dawn is like darkened water

that slowly begins to say Thank you, thank you.

Then at sunset, again, Venus gradually

Changes into the moon and then the whole nightsky.

This comes of smiling back

at your smile.

The chess master says nothing,

other than moving the silent chess piece.

That I am part of the ploys

of this game makes me

amazingly happy.

Sonnet 20: Beloved, my Beloved, when I think

Beloved, my Beloved, when I think

That thou wast in the world a year ago,

What time I sat alone here in the snow

And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink

No moment at thy voice, but, link by link,

Went counting all my chains as if that so

They never could fall off at any blow

Struck by thy possible hand,—why, thus I drink

Of life's great cup of wonder!

-- by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Song: Soul's Joy, Now I am Gone

SOUL'S joy, now I am gone,

And you alone,

—Which cannot be,

Since I must leave myself with thee,

And carry thee with me—

Yet when unto our eyes

Absense denies

Each other's sight,

And makes to us a constant night,

When others change to light;

O give no way to grief,

But let belief

Of mutual love

This wonder to the vulgar prove,

Our bodies, not we move.

Let not thy wit beweep

Words but sense deep;

For when we miss

By distance our hope's joining bliss,

Even then our souls shall kiss;

Fools have no means to meet,

But by their feet;

Why should our clay

Over our spirits so much sway,

To tie us to that way?

O give no way to grief.

-- by John Donne

I Am Not Alone

The night, it is deserted

from the mountains to the sea.

But I, the one who rocks you,

I am not alone!

The sky, it is deserted

for the moon falls to the sea.

But I, the one who holds you,

I am not alone!

The world, it is deserted.

All flesh is sad you see.

But I, the one who hugs you,

I am not alone!

-- by Gabriela Mistral

So simple, delicate and lovely.

Thank you for sharing that. Heartbreakingly expressive.

Oh thank you Dags! I guess it's worth something if it passes poetic muster for you.

Yay, all the "top critics" have reviewed my work, I'm stoked.

Oh melly, thank you so much!! Thank you for reading...

Thank you, Storeys...

They’re still out there,

Do you see?

For now,

Still yet,

Undaunted,

A rapier slices through the tarry firmament,

Walking down caverns of cloud.

Diamond needle eye,

Tracing invisible grooves,

‘Round and ‘round,

Scanning for a melodious sound.

Counting pulses,

Hopscotching from

Vapor to vapor,

Asking where.

Oh Where?

Looking for everywhere.

Purple bruises flash forward

Against night’s belly,

Swishing between a nylon slip

And blackened naked space.

Unhidden and exposed,

But the finding hand wants

To touch

Something farther still.

Groping at a farness

Deeper in.

Eight hundred million candlepower strong,

This is what desperate

Callers call for.

Calling,

Calling.

I fear closing my eyes

And calling off

The search.

I'm joining the movement, too!!!

It's the only reason d'etre!

What an exilirating poem, it makes my heart soar!

(new fangled hippie hug, everyone?)

Instead I cried all the way home,

and spoke to you in case you were listening.

I hope you are, but sometimes you feel so far,

 

I couldn't find you in any of the usual places. No matter how many faces I see there now, they are empty.

It's so good to see your story/poem here, and what a wonderful suggestion from allie! She was right, it belongs here...and I'm glad to see you put it up, and to be prompted to read it again...as desperately sad as it is, how clearly that comes through.

It's so full of imagery for me, being there with your experience. Who, who has ever felt love and separation, the pangs of closeness yet distance, being surrounded by people and yet alone, cannot relate to this?

It brings all such things right up to the surface for me...

And though I haven't experienced the same loss as you have, I know so intimately the feeling of being surrounded by people and yet solitary. I can only even imagine layered over that the sense of presense and absense all at once of your beloved.

It's just so hard when a spirit leaves the body to live with the limited knowledge we have of where they have gone...to feel realms apart. And while there is nothing I feel sure of (just because I'm a questioning sort), I have a strong sense that Michael is in a realm that is much less limited, because he's no longer bound by the senses we still have, that cause us so much pain and hurt, and torment in the mind. So even when you listen for him and can't locate him, remind yourself that it's only because at the moment, it's because of the human limitation you are experiencing, not because he is not there.

And that the music you love, the art you love, the things you love to do are a divine connection that you both are still sharing, as the magic of these things bridges the realms.

This one was a difficult one to write because it wasn't done at the time, as I felt it but it was done much later so I had to kind of put myself back in to that mood I was in that night. It wasn't a pleasant thing to do but I really wanted to show how helpless I felt that night.

That's probably the single trickiest thing about writing to get out a very raw emotion, for me, too.....when you are in the thick of it, it's too massive to be able to get your mind around, to articulate, let alone to find poetry and fine words. But then later.....the feeling has to be re-entered, to be relived actually. So you have to have just that right balance of still feeling it, to touch it...and the distance to stand back and now put it together in words that really express it as if you were still there, feeling it at that very moment. And you have totally succeeded in that, here. It's a hard thing to pull off, but you did, and it all comes through. I really sense you lying there at this moment I read it.

(bumpbump!)

I'm bumping this one up...not just because I wanted to read it (again) and revisit it, but because I failed to be able to find the right way to express how outstanding it is in every way and the things you said here...

The way you channeled everything into each stanza...each stands on its own, a monument.

You've travelled so far since this night...and for that, you keep inspiring people here all the time...I think others would see themselves in this now, too, it's one of those timeless "songs." All of your poems I hear in my head like songs, Dags.

So here it is, for people to take in, once again...

You're the best.

I love writing poems. It's my own little creative outlet that I do at times. I get shy when it comes to posting them though.

Since I have received such lovely compliments I think I will post a couple more soon.

 

I will post my favorite of mine next time.

Oh, I know what you mean about being shy! It took me a lot of gumption to put anything on here, too, what with the pedigree of some people in this forum (think, comfyshoes, DB...!...etc...) But your poem here shows that you have NO reason to be shy, it's really powerful! Poems should be shared...you will always touch someone!

I'll look out for more, then!

Pushing away at my thoughts,

they just won't go away.

Trapped in this damaged body,

there has to be another way.

How I ever know the feeling of this!!

This body can feel like such a prison...but through writing or expressing it somehow, the spirit is unloosed!

This is a winner, Angel! Why are you keeping this talent so well-hidden?

I would love to see more from you! More, more!

Disclaimer: I am not a poet nor do I ever write poetry...

Well, now you are, and now you do!

This is solidly good, ryan! It's really raw and I like that.

And it's also just a wonderful thing for you to remember him/them this way. I would be really happy in the afterlife knowing a kid liked me this much, to write me an ode.

Greatness turns heads, my friend.

You may be a little more famous than you realize.