Trying to get My life Dream Please watch and Comment

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Fadencraze

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Member

01-04-2012

http://www.youtube.com/user/Fadencraze360?feature=mhee
Thank you


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Raging Hipster

Senior Member

01-04-2012

*Added to hipster favorites*


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Dobagoh

Member

01-04-2012

Your poetry is reads like a bad journal entry, with forced rhymes and really mismatched meter. Also, way too short to even be considered a proper poem.

Imagery: you don't show, you merely tell. no imagination is needed to understand your poem. 1/5
Meter: very awkward meter. I wouldn't normally score poems for meter, but when you choose to rhyme meter cannot be ignored: 0/5
Emo scale: too blatantly emo. 0/5
Word choice: words are simplistic, unnecessarily repetitive, leave little to the imagination, although some choice of words is interesting 2/5

I'll give you an example of the things I talk about. This is a poem of a friend of mine's. Comments are in italics.

Memory

In the black of nights once passed,
the Stars glimmer without showing themselves:
Shy from the exuberance of the daily Sun
and drowned by the smoke and glare
of cities where corn-field-lights line streets,
Making the ground the sky, from far up here,
tracing new patterns and constellations
To point the way, the way back home...[From the first stanza, and continuing to the end of the poem, there is a huge thematic comparison between light and darkness. (there are many instances of comparing and contrasting) Not only does this function as a literal foil, but it is a metaphor for the speaker's memory: 'the black of nights once passed' refers to his fading memories of childhood, "the Stars glimmer without showing themselves" refer to his experiences that shaped and formed him, but others cannot see or know about these experiences because the present, aka "the daily Sun", is so overpowering. This type of imagery gives the reader a vibrant imagining of scenes, eliciting feelings, but also go beyond that with the depth of metaphor.]

Evenings where treetop outlines of forests
cast their twilight shadow have been long replaced
by towering steel, that block the Sun without pause
and never bend with the wind--The rustle of leaves
have long been blown away by the rush of trains
That come and go long before their passengers
are able to run and reach their destiny. [As the first stanza contrasted light from darkness, the second stanza contrasts a rural life with urban life, and give the reader a feeling that dreams can never be reached]

We used to find Mercury in the early hours
and pass wishes upon our falling Stars;
But now I only wish for flashing head beams
to come with lighted car-top lighted signs.
We used to see Venus dance by the Moon
enticing the world to dance without steps. [Expanding more on the thought of dreams; and comparing and contrasting what it meant to have dreams as a child v. the speaker's modern worries and concerns]

I have since forgotten what it was to dance,
preferring instead to remember your brilliance;
Tracing your patterns in the lights of your eyes.
Each passing day erodes what was known piece by bit,
'til nothing more is left but remembrance of a memory.

The wind that blows, slips through fingers easily,
fooling the feel of a cupped grasp, and
blowing daily crowds from deserted nightly streets,
'til nothing more is left but lost wonderers from afar. [The structure of the poem, as you notice, is such that each stanza has one less line. This reinforces the idea of memory--as time goes on your memory lessens in intensity and vividness until one day, what was a year only seems like a second. Notice how the themes explored in the poem are reflected, not only in the sub-themes used to illuminate the exploration of memory, but even in the physical structure of the poem itself.]

...outside, the lights below slowly disappear
behind the Clouds whose murky curtain kept me
from being able to see the Stars once more. [here you notice ellipsis "..." separating the poem into two distinct parts. The author did this on purpose, and the reader would do well to appreciate the change in tone]

Closer now, and closer, for the Dipper points the way,
yet lost with fear I am, for troubling questions remain:

Will you have remembered? or did you forget?
[Is this poem emo? It could be. Maybe it's about a guy going home who still isn't over his high school sweetheart, and thinking about how whether he's changed as a person will forever drive them apart. But it doesn't have to be, it could be about anything. The speaker refrains from telling the reader what he is feeling until the very last line--he instead uses exuberant imagery to show the reader what he is feeling. He captures scenes that express his thoughts and emotions, and tries to give the reader the same emotions by describing those scenes to him. This is what poetry is about.]