poem. would like feedback. any!

[sharin_in_the_groove]

hey all. my names katie. ive been a member here before, but i went off to school and didnt have acess to a computer. im back. here's some things i wrote. id hoped i could get some critiquing/feedback. anythings always such a help. thanks. @-->-- katie
ps- grateful for ideas for a title as well.


you once paid yourself some promises
but they were only etchings in the snow
disappearing when the sun came
washed down the gutter
permanently forgotten somewhere in your head

they’ll return in a flashback
like ones from your young trips on acid
coming back to you when your in a supermarket line in your forties
buying too many plastic containers
for too many kids
who take up too much room

you hate them for what they make you
in them you see broken promises of yester years

you hate your daughter because she has your nose
with nostrils that smell lavish candles
and toxic fumes
and forgotten life with ketchup on a roll

you hate your son because he is there
and you wanted him so badly
adding two more to the world- himself and another hypocrite
always loving him more than the future

when cherished snowflakes bid the earth cold greetings
you hasten quick to shut the blinds in hopes the kids wont see
you laugh that you thought it’d work while you put out the hats and mittens

you settle back and throw up in the snow
vivid purity of whiteness ruined

laughing, rolling your head back and forth
you long for another drug

your children build a snowman next to you
you hope they’re fingers freeze off
they must be punished
they're American
and have forgotten what it is to hurt

[BandAide]

Hi Katie!

I'm a writer myself. There is a thread here where a few people have posted poetry, myself included.

I don't like this poem. I hope that isn't offensive to you. The poem doesn't appeal to me.

That said, it's VERY well written, and though I don't enjoy the story of it, I do enjoy the way you've strung your words together. The fact that I've had the kind of reaction that I've had is a testament to the fact that you have written something good. It is reactionary and it uses fabulous imagery. The gritty quality of your language has a very powerful affect and is moving.

My only negative comment is that you have a few places that could be fine tuned and revised. In poetry, every word, every space should count and mean something. You have some extra words, like the word "like" or "that" which make it harder to read and detract from what a fine poem this really is. If you omitted them you would have a smoother piece.

I hope this has been helpful. You are clearly a gifted writer. I actually write every day and plan on teaching creative writing at the university level someday. I'm in graduate school now... only 100 years to go before I finally have my doctorate. Sigh.

[PEACE FROG]

Wow, very heavy. Read it three times and it occurred to me differently each time. You write nicely, wish I could. The one called Bandaid writes some real good stuff, its posted here somewhere see if you can find it, it's worth a read or two. Good job Katie, got any more? :cool: :)

[sharin_in_the_groove]

thanks so much. that was not offensive that you dont like my poem. im so glad there are other writers on here. i need help and criticism and advice! where are your poems? ill post more, and id love you to help me with them. thanks.

@-->--katie

[BandAide]

Wow, Peacefrog, thanks for that compliment. I'd prefer those to any other sweet phrases anyone could toss my way.


Katie, I'd be happy to give you my reactions to your poems, but I don't think you need much help! I think you're really talented, actually.

Here's a little something I wrote today right before my husband got home. I posted a few others under a thread called "sharing" or maybe "time to share?" It's here somewhere.

will you ever get home from work?

Baby’s wearing her top hat today-
out in the snow where it’s not as cold as it looks
from my first story window.
I should make cornbread for my husband to eat
I should really buy my own chapstick
I should flirt with him when he comes in from work, smelling of cigarettes and stale from the office
Baby's wearing her top hat-
out in the snow where it's not as cold as it looks
from my first story window
with my nose
pressed up to the pane
watching for headlights
or
snowflakes
awaiting your arrival

[sharin_in_the_groove]

nice. i like those. yea i searched and found a thread where i read a few of your poems. i like how they are about nothing. in a good sense. they are about everyday life. heres a few more ive written:



i heard the news today
played out on the TV
i had my bag of popcorn
i was ready to be entertained

worlds unknown to me
flash upon the screen
a million dying babies
stretch as far as i can see

but as far as i can see
is not nearly enough
for it only goes so far
if i dont get off the couch

______
The sun burns the hill
Just right
Golden wheat turns blistered red
Reaching toward forgotten horizons
Clouds march in
Terrorizing the sky
Throwing shades of gray across the land
Laughing and shaking
Pouring out their anger
Releasing anguish in cold droplets
Ruining the light
So that tomorrow seems even brighter


______
Reading and writing poems
When you don’t even know what they mean
Trying to sound intelligent
Longing for some higher connection
Being lost in a dulled world of monotone stability
Excusing yourself from cheap coffee talks
Having thoughts your parents never even dreamt of
Provoking thoughts that linger between the spaces of your head
Thoughts.
All they do is keep you up at night, hungry in the day
Never satisying anything
But the ticking of the clock that cannot be turned back
So at 4 am when pretty towns are nestled into broken mountains
Your sitting at some lonely desk in a cobwebbed corner
Reading and writing poems
When you don’t even know what they really mean

[BandAide]

Thanks so much! As a writer I've learned that the most influential and moving literature is unapologetically truthful, and that what is honest is generally quite ordinary.

I try not to bog my writing down with cliches and metaphores that people can't find accessible, but rather try to write truthful, non-sentimental pieces that tend to frame myself as the subject.

What I've noticed in the few poems you've posted is what I mentioned in my original post. It seems as though you may have a tendency to become awkwardly conversational in your prose. Some of the "filler words" you use interrupt the flow of a powerful structure. They would be more gripping without these words. The poem you've posted that doesn't have this quality is the second poem in your second post. I don't often like poems about nature of metaphors that use nature to depict synthetic things, but this poem works really well. Your use of language is really excellent.

In what I've read, your strength is definately in the way you grasp and image and are able to showcase it in a powerful frame.

Nice work.

[sharin_in_the_groove]

thanks so much. i know what you mean about bogging down poetry with cliches. sometimes i feel i do that. they're obnoxious to read. yours ring truthful in their simplicity. yea, i have many many poems. some are short and sweet without excess language like that second one. others i seem more to be writing stories- i use words like "and" &other words that your not "supposed" to use in poetry. i know that every word counts- but sometimes i just feel it fits the piece. i dont know. kind of got in from reading some of allen ginsberg's stuff. my teacher in school tells me to get rid of it too. haha. i think i should- and see what it sounds like. id love to read more of yours please. keep posting them.


_____
a sailor bends his head at me
to show me tales dark and deep
barried there in wrinkles
the sea softly flowing in his voice
waves of fury to go along

crooked smile to face my fear
i lay comletley naked bare
his own candle dimming down
shadows formed to tell the fortunes
his soul hung up in the sky

as his fate encloses in
a darked end or life to begin
soft waters undeneath his head
no matter what the stop is here
what's inside is left to tell this tale

inspiration clear and wide
ripple over with the tide
only those who have sailed it all,
who've come back to themselves,
can know its okay to drift away


_____
::The Kids Are Dead::
Kids stand in an open field
One bare tree
Their eyes look to the sky
Their feet buried in the ground
All standing still
Roots entwined below the soil
They shout
But the fields too big
Voices lost in the nothingness
The kids are dead
The kids are dead
They are falling down in the field
There they lie
So their mouths touch the dirt
Their eyes still look to the sky
Their questions left unanswered
Bodies fall through the ground
Only the tree to say goodbye


_____
::The Ballad of Robert Smith::
Welcome to the town of Nothing
Where the old preacher lives
With withered fingers pointing nowhere
With thoughts that are not his

Many people live here
Little do they know
Of other lands and thoughts and lives
They've been trapped here by the snow

The snowfall is their ignorance
Their ignorance is bliss
They all live in perfect homes
They wear their Sunday's best

Robert Smith was born here
In a small room with no view
To a mother and a father
Of whom other places they little knew

Robert learned from many books
In the school of no dissent
He learned the same old melodies
Played to keep him from his head

His father had an office
A clerk and a nice desk
He swore that his son Robert's name
Would be on the door next

But Robert hated that old place
Hated all it meant
"A businessman I'll never be"
And that is when he left

His head was filled with wispy hope
Of lands both dark and light
Lands where he could find himself
Lands much worth the fight

Robert wandered far away
From the deathly, grim, blank town
He traveled the world to find the truth
To live freely with no bounds

Now time has past, and rivers dried
But still the town's the same
It's quite a soul that Robert had
That helped him beat the game



(re-reading these... i dont know how i feel about them. i dont know if its the same for you. but i like poems right after i write them. then as i read and re-read them, and go back to them after a little while, i reailze they wernt as good as i 1st thought)

[BandAide]

I hope you didn't think I was incinuating that YOU use too many cliches! I wasn't. I was just making a generalization (I should be ashamed of myself :rolleyes: )

My advice to you is that if you really like the way something sounds and people like me are telling you to change it... listen to yourself. You've got your own voice and it's strong. I'm trying to be helpful, but I'm not necessarily right. Like I said before, I really don't even think you need my help!!!





Crooning about something like a syndrome downstairs-
I’m tucked into the blue la-z-boy, trying to breathe.
Dirty dishes, panic attacks, nervous twitches and nag champa-
Corduroy patches set up in a row to form a skirt around my lower body.
no more a hippie than you are a republican.
no more a poet than you are a widget.
no more a sandbox than you are a condom.
no more an enthusiast than you are a musician.

I could suffocate with my head inside this bag,
But you keep telling me to take deep breaths
And so I do.
I listen to you.
I admire you.
I try to impress you.
I try to persuade you.
I watch as you hear me and digest and dilute.

With the sharp edge of my tongue pressed up to your tooth,
And when you smile-
You remind me-
Of a Sabertooth tiger.
With the soft edge of my lip pressed up to your neck,
You remind me of the moonwalk at our local fairground.

And that’s when you slide in to give me a kiss.