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Hey, my prompt won. Neat.
>>QuillScratch
You can call this the Sting round instead, if you like. I did intend to reference the sonnet, though.
>>QuillScratch
You can call this the Sting round instead, if you like. I did intend to reference the sonnet, though.
There's a nice sentiment here, and I can feel the narrator's exasperation at failing to find the descriptive language he's searching for. The rhythm is flawless, but the stress pattern has a few places where a word that's usually pronounced with a "STRONG-MIDDLE-weak" sequence is forced into a "STRONG-weak-STRONG" form, like the words pandemonium, summarily, and opposite.
Aside from the sentiment that all authors can relate to, I'm trying to find a narrative arc here. There seems to be one until the end, when it turns into more of an adage about writing. Structurally, it's tight, and the rhyme scheme worked nicely.
Aside from the sentiment that all authors can relate to, I'm trying to find a narrative arc here. There seems to be one until the end, when it turns into more of an adage about writing. Structurally, it's tight, and the rhyme scheme worked nicely.
Is this a Sad Luna story?
I like the personification of the moon, though I'm lacking context as to why it's unsatisfied with its own nature. Early in the poem, the short lines stood as their own sentences, but later on, they more often form continuations with the lines around them. I don't know if that was a deliberate choice that conveys some meaning or if it was just by chance. All told, I liked it, but I wished I had more of an idea of why the moon wanted to be out in the sunlight. That also makes me wonder if this is a Luna thing, since in our world, the moon often is out during the day.
I like the personification of the moon, though I'm lacking context as to why it's unsatisfied with its own nature. Early in the poem, the short lines stood as their own sentences, but later on, they more often form continuations with the lines around them. I don't know if that was a deliberate choice that conveys some meaning or if it was just by chance. All told, I liked it, but I wished I had more of an idea of why the moon wanted to be out in the sunlight. That also makes me wonder if this is a Luna thing, since in our world, the moon often is out during the day.
Interesting that a second story has focused on the moon, given the prompt. At least I assume the poem's shape is supposed to evoke a crescent moon. I guess that as the only capitalized word, the ending line is being given emphasis?
As such an abstract poem, it's not the kind I'm likely to get as much from, so I'm mostly limited to the aesthetic effect it had on me, but I liked it. The shape, the language choice, and the ominous tone produce a concerted effect. I can't say much more constructive than I liked it.
As such an abstract poem, it's not the kind I'm likely to get as much from, so I'm mostly limited to the aesthetic effect it had on me, but I liked it. The shape, the language choice, and the ominous tone produce a concerted effect. I can't say much more constructive than I liked it.
The title made me think of the British series "Look Around You," and all the poem's language fit perfectly with it. It was funny, and I'm sorry, but I can't unsee that now.
I can't tell if this is supposed to have a rhyme scheme, as "sun" and "one" rhyme, but "still" and "well" don't quite. I'm also not sure what's happening here. There seem to be literal pavement and cars, but then are the birds literal as well? Vultures maybe? They would be particularly suited to looking for signs of life or death, but I wondered what they had to do with the cars, which led to me wondering if you were talking about shadows. And in the end, is this a place that's just abandoned? Or has it been so long that all remains of the living are gone? I really like the imagery and mood, but I don't know what's happened.
I can't tell if this is supposed to have a rhyme scheme, as "sun" and "one" rhyme, but "still" and "well" don't quite. I'm also not sure what's happening here. There seem to be literal pavement and cars, but then are the birds literal as well? Vultures maybe? They would be particularly suited to looking for signs of life or death, but I wondered what they had to do with the cars, which led to me wondering if you were talking about shadows. And in the end, is this a place that's just abandoned? Or has it been so long that all remains of the living are gone? I really like the imagery and mood, but I don't know what's happened.
Another one where I'm having trouble figuring out what's happened. I think it's likening the transition between romances to the sun and moon exchanging places, but I was never clear on the context for it. The narrator asserts that the moon is bad but the sun is worse, but then never backs that up, so I just have to take his word for it.
The middle stanza was the meatiest, as it starts up an interesting thought about how we can't choose our family, at least not our biological one. That seems like a disjoint topic from the more obvious theme of romance, and I'm not sure what they have to do with each other. I think "lose" was supposed to be "loss."
I liked most of these poems about the same. There wasn't a clear outlier for me, either good or bad.
The middle stanza was the meatiest, as it starts up an interesting thought about how we can't choose our family, at least not our biological one. That seems like a disjoint topic from the more obvious theme of romance, and I'm not sure what they have to do with each other. I think "lose" was supposed to be "loss."
I liked most of these poems about the same. There wasn't a clear outlier for me, either good or bad.
The poem seems wistful and regretful that we must leave our home and journey into the unknown. Even if we don’t know when it will happen there’s still something sad about leaving home. I like that theme.
It could stand to be more assertive. Especially with a piece of poetry like this you don’t have to be making statements of fact but can rather make statements of opinion. The phrase “dead or boring” seems a little indecisive, even if it is factual.
Nice poem! Very spoken-word-esque.
It could stand to be more assertive. Especially with a piece of poetry like this you don’t have to be making statements of fact but can rather make statements of opinion. The phrase “dead or boring” seems a little indecisive, even if it is factual.
Nice poem! Very spoken-word-esque.
Clever. Took me a second to figure out the ‘poem within a poem’ thing, and I almost wrote it off when I saw it, but I think I’ve come around. Fear is the mind killer.
I’m honestly not sure how to critique this. Given the framework you’ve been operating in it seems rather well done. The hidden text could be interpreted as the idea that in the face of the all consuming dread of the future we forget to see the larger picture, but there I go projecting again.
This reminded me of A FLEet|ng LIght |n thE DArknEsS, so now I have to go read that again.
I’m honestly not sure how to critique this. Given the framework you’ve been operating in it seems rather well done. The hidden text could be interpreted as the idea that in the face of the all consuming dread of the future we forget to see the larger picture, but there I go projecting again.
This reminded me of A FLEet|ng LIght |n thE DArknEsS, so now I have to go read that again.
This poem evokes thoughts of the apocalypse. Not with fire and death, but of the quiet afterwards. When the grass is grown and the dust settled. When only husks remain to remind the world what once was, and the world moves on irregardless.
It’s a little hard to pin down the subject or theme, but is effective at conveying the feeling.
It’s a little hard to pin down the subject or theme, but is effective at conveying the feeling.
This poem reads well when spoken. The pacing created by the format creates the idea of two voices speaking both together and to each other. I think there was a missed opportunity to create a second narrative here, similarly to Hole in the Sky, where the long and short sentences could stand independently of one another.
The break in the stanzas is somewhat unnecessary. If it was going to be created using stanzas then it can be argued that it should be incorporated into the style and made uniform. Given the length this could have been broken into three equal length stanzas equally. But maybe the break could also be unintentional so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The break in the stanzas is somewhat unnecessary. If it was going to be created using stanzas then it can be argued that it should be incorporated into the style and made uniform. Given the length this could have been broken into three equal length stanzas equally. But maybe the break could also be unintentional so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
This is by far the most conventional poem on this list and suffers not at all from that fact. It is easy to read, employs a smattering of humor, and even has a moral at the end (how nice!).
The self deprecation in the middle does drag it down to an extent. It trips over itself with a few transitions and wanders afield for a while but eventually ties everything up in a nice bow.
The self deprecation in the middle does drag it down to an extent. It trips over itself with a few transitions and wanders afield for a while but eventually ties everything up in a nice bow.
When I first saw this one:
The way the words were arranged immediately made me think of blackout poetry. But since there were no big black bars, I couldn't see how that could be the case, so I was left confused. Thank you, >>MrExtra, for pointing out the trick of selecting the whole page to see the original text that's being deconstructed. I'd suggest next time, though, author, that you use the "spoiler" tag so the actual black bars will show up and immediately tell readers like me and >>Pascoite what's going on.
As for the poem itself, the whole fear thing is certainly timely, and given the limited selection of words available in blackout poetry, it's expressed pretty well. Nicely done.
Mike
The way the words were arranged immediately made me think of blackout poetry. But since there were no big black bars, I couldn't see how that could be the case, so I was left confused. Thank you, >>MrExtra, for pointing out the trick of selecting the whole page to see the original text that's being deconstructed. I'd suggest next time, though, author, that you use the "spoiler" tag so the actual black bars will show up and immediately tell readers like me and >>Pascoite what's going on.
As for the poem itself, the whole fear thing is certainly timely, and given the limited selection of words available in blackout poetry, it's expressed pretty well. Nicely done.
Mike
A very nice image:
And really, that's all I ask of a poem sometimes. The form's a little wobbly with no pattern establlished as to which lines start with stressed syllables and which start with unstressed and with the side rhyme in the second stanza. Words like "circling" are always problematic in metered verse, too, since some people pronounce them with two syllables and some with three...
Mike
And really, that's all I ask of a poem sometimes. The form's a little wobbly with no pattern establlished as to which lines start with stressed syllables and which start with unstressed and with the side rhyme in the second stanza. Words like "circling" are always problematic in metered verse, too, since some people pronounce them with two syllables and some with three...
Mike
To sail beyond the sunset
is the distant dream
to fare among the stars
from fiery solar cradle
seeking, somewhere,
Time enough for love
is the distant dream
to fare among the stars
from fiery solar cradle
seeking, somewhere,
Time enough for love
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
High vulture soaring in the sky
Is seeking for a meal.
Death may have come and gone, but still
Earth shall abide, unhealed.
Is seeking for a meal.
Death may have come and gone, but still
Earth shall abide, unhealed.
Water flows
Surging through the fresh brown grounds
Soaking in
Pulling out the flavor of the bean
Pouring down
Fresh crema floats at the black surface
Rich aroma
Inhaling all my lungs can hold
Poem finished?
So soon, just one more cup...
Surging through the fresh brown grounds
Soaking in
Pulling out the flavor of the bean
Pouring down
Fresh crema floats at the black surface
Rich aroma
Inhaling all my lungs can hold
Poem finished?
So soon, just one more cup...
My misty sighs are frothing at the pun
That balks my duty like the light of lime,
And by the snicking of thy verbal gun.
O rose-fed pretty elf as old as time,
Aching of fruity joy forever spun--
Look on these works, ye flighty, and yet rhyme.
That balks my duty like the light of lime,
And by the snicking of thy verbal gun.
O rose-fed pretty elf as old as time,
Aching of fruity joy forever spun--
Look on these works, ye flighty, and yet rhyme.
I'll apologize again:
For losing track of time and not getting in here to comment on everything. Poems are so much more difficult for me to find anything possibly useful to say than stories...
But thank you for the gold and congrats to our other medalists. As for this piece here, thinking about the prompt made me wonder if there was a term for a negative similie, for a phrase that says something is not like something else. I decided that that term should be "dissimile" and went from there. My current thinking is that I need to change the middle where the Robert Burns paraphrase comes in so that the love that isn't like a red, red rose doesn't refer to the object of the narrator's affection but the emotion he himself is feeling: he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve, he wears it on his nose...
I dunno, though. But thanks again!
Mike
For losing track of time and not getting in here to comment on everything. Poems are so much more difficult for me to find anything possibly useful to say than stories...
But thank you for the gold and congrats to our other medalists. As for this piece here, thinking about the prompt made me wonder if there was a term for a negative similie, for a phrase that says something is not like something else. I decided that that term should be "dissimile" and went from there. My current thinking is that I need to change the middle where the Robert Burns paraphrase comes in so that the love that isn't like a red, red rose doesn't refer to the object of the narrator's affection but the emotion he himself is feeling: he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve, he wears it on his nose...
I dunno, though. But thanks again!
Mike