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Feel free to rip into it. I'm pretty good at taking criticism =)
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Generic and not a very clever use of language. If you want me to rip into it. It's not awful in the sense that I know what you're saying and your message is clear, but it's just not very unique or interesting to make it stand out from other disillusionment poetry. I don't get any interesting images either, so it's just kinda 'there is crime in the streets and I have rich man's guilt' but in verse form.
It's also hard to make connections between what you do have... You say the pavement is like skin, and that you're (the narrator anyway) bleeding on it, but then the skin soaks up the blood? What can I get from that? There's blood on the hands of the street? But the street isn't guilty, the narrator is. Except that it's his heart that bleeds (btw a little overused cliche). So are we blaming the street or the narrator? Or both? And why is that interesting?
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On June 27 2012 08:45 Chef wrote:
Generic and not a very clever use of language. If you want me to rip into it. It's not awful in the sense that I know what you're saying and your message is clear, but it's just not very unique or interesting to make it stand out from other disillusionment poetry. I don't get any interesting images either, so it's just kinda 'there is crime in the streets and I have rich man's guilt' but in verse form.
Hehehe. Yeah, that was one of my strongest hesitations about posting it. It felt like an idea that had already been discussed a lot. I had one about the American Dream... glad I chose not to share that one ^_^
So is the message too overt then? Like, it would need to be hidden deeper with more complex language and images?
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Well I think you need to have a more interesting take on the subject, or more vivid images. You shouldn't convolute your meaning if your meaning is simple. You want to avoid making something complex for the sake of being complex, because it will give your work a very contrived feel, rather than a genuine expression of ideas. I don't need a hidden meaning because in the end I don't care what you mean, I'm going to make it mean what I want it to, but there needs to be something for me to chew on to make that meaning for myself, if you get what I mean.
When I read something about a heart that bleeds, I don't think 'wow what a profound image' and turn it around in my head, I just think that it's a dead metaphor that's sort of empty because it only means one thing. You could expand on that and maybe make it your own, but as it is you could have equally said 'I felt bad' and it would have been just as eloquent.
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On June 27 2012 08:45 Chef wrote:
It's also hard to make connections between what you do have... You say the pavement is like skin, and that you're (the narrator anyway) bleeding on it, but then the skin soaks up the blood? What can I get from that? There's blood on the hands of the street? But the street isn't guilty, the narrator is. Except that it's his heart that bleeds (btw a little overused cliche). So are we blaming the street or the narrator? Or both? And why is that interesting?
Hmm. I guess I didn't think too hard on the metaphor of the skin. I just liked the sound of treading skin, and I wanted to show how though it may looks like the narrator is on top, he's really the one thats the victim. The street soaked his heart up eagerly because I wanted it to thrive off emptying him. I should have thought more about the connection between the skin on the street, and what was spilled on the street. That was something I failed to do I guess. The skin was more just me trying to have fun with language, the soaking action was more the theme I was driving at though
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When I read something about a heart that bleeds, I don't think 'wow what a profound image' and turn it around in my head, I just think that it's a dead metaphor that's sort of empty because it only means one thing. You could expand on that and maybe make it your own, but as it is you could have equally said 'I felt bad' and it would have been just as eloquent.
Yeah, I get that a heart is an ever present metaphor lurking around in literature. Its just hard to find something that stands in for it, that moves the same meaning across. I guess thats where creativity comes in though haha... I'll think about that one some more, and see if I can get an image more original than a heart.
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These streets I walk have become my home.
I tread their skin, but they drained my heart.
Ripped it open, its contents spilled to the ground.
The concrete soaked it up eagerly.
Now I walk, bereft.
Though darkness obscures the alleys,
I hear clearly the beating, the crime.
I pass by. My hands should drip,
slick with guilt. But they are dry.
Anonymity and apathy.
I am their strong-child.
I bolded these words because they are either modifiers or they're not an actual word. First line, though, and I honestly think you took this from a song. I may look to see if you actually did, but that's one of the worst first lines I've ever read.
What do the streets that you walk look like? Are you in a gated community or in the bronx? Giving the street an actual appearence will help other's get a clearer picture of why the streets are soaking up your blood.
I don't like the personification of the streets, especially how they "soak up your blood eagerly." I don't even see how concrete soaks up anything. If anything, it gets so hot on the streets that the blood evaporates, or goes down the sewer. How do the streets rip your heart open if you walking on it? Is your heart in your feet? How does the contents of said heart spill on the ground if it's already been drained?
Maybe, try this:
My alarm clock is a car horn, a garbage bag
hurled into allumimun, the shouts of passerbys.
Already, you've set the tone for a shitty home. The idea that you live on the streets should be appearant. Notice how there is sound in this suggestion, something that is completely absent from your poem. If a heart was ripped open, maybe it could pop open, or a blood vessel or something. I'm sure blood would be squirting out of whatever vessel, and that would be pretty gruesome, but an awesome image to see through words.
Use your five senses. They don't all have to be in every poem ever, but touching the senses will give any poem more depth. Show me, don't tell me.
Edit: Protip: put the poem away for a couple months. Work on other poems, get better, then come back. You'll see more of what can be done when you get far away from it.
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On June 27 2012 13:14 DigiGnar wrote:Show nested quote +These streets I walk have become my home.
I tread their skin, but they drained my heart.
Ripped it open, its contents spilled to the ground.
The concrete soaked it up eagerly.
Now I walk, bereft.
Though darkness obscures the alleys,
I hear clearly the beating, the crime.
I pass by. My hands should drip,
slick with guilt. But they are dry.
Anonymity and apathy.
I am their strong-child. I bolded these words because they are either modifiers or they're not an actual word. First line, though, and I honestly think you took this from a song. I may look to see if you actually did, but that's one of the worst first lines I've ever read. What do the streets that you walk look like? Are you in a gated community or in the bronx? Giving the street an actual appearence will help other's get a clearer picture of why the streets are soaking up your blood. I don't like the personification of the streets, especially how they "soak up your blood eagerly." I don't even see how concrete soaks up anything. If anything, it gets so hot on the streets that the blood evaporates, or goes down the sewer. How do the streets rip your heart open if you walking on it? Is your heart in your feet? How does the contents of said heart spill on the ground if it's already been drained? Maybe, try this: My alarm clock is a car horn, a garbage bag hurled into allumimun, the shouts of passerbys. Already, you've set the tone for a shitty home. The idea that you live on the streets should be appearant. Notice how there is sound in this suggestion, something that is completely absent from your poem. If a heart was ripped open, maybe it could pop open, or a blood vessel or something. I'm sure blood would be squirting out of whatever vessel, and that would be pretty gruesome, but an awesome image to see through words. Use your five senses. They don't all have to be in every poem ever, but touching the senses will give any poem more depth. Show me, don't tell me. Edit: Protip: put the poem away for a couple months. Work on other poems, get better, then come back. You'll see more of what can be done when you get far away from it.
Mmmmm. Ok, thanks. This has been a good reality check haha ^_^;
In my creative writing classes in college we would go through and critique each others pieces, but nothing as in depth and brutally honest as this.
The first line is not literal. The narrator is not homeless, which I think you interpreted it as. Its more just to show his forced bonding with the city, and since streets provide the flow of motion in a city, thats what I used to describe his interaction with it. I kind of wanted to show the narrator was walking without much purpose behind his motions, because the city took his purpose. The streets now provide his direction.
idk. I obviously have not put in enough thought and work into the poem as I guess I should have. it looks like I need to put more work into constructing my images
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Poetry is hard work. I'm still trying to finish like, twelve poems I've been working on for a year and a half now. Where I learned to critique from, or where I learned (not from), was a site called poetry free for all. Just google that with forums on the end, and you should get there. Loads of information there, like which books are good and such. I think some lauerates(Spell check!) mod the site, too. If you don't know what that is, it's people who are like... a nobel piece prize winner or something. They know their shit.
If the city took this dude's purpose, what was that purpose? Does he have a new purpose now? You say the streets provide his direction, maybe they gave him a purpose...
And while I did take the first line some what literally, if you say the streets are your home, no matter how you spin that, it's going to seem like you're homeless. Thoughts of a ninja like kid who has to steal from restaurants kind of came to my mind.
Also, what forces this guy to have a bond with the city? That seems like a choice to me. Still, with my suggestion, a homeless guy would be more forced to bond with the city rather than someones who lives in a house. If this guy actually has a place to live, he could very well just stay inside for the rest of his life. No forced bonding going on.
I like to ask myself questions about a poem, though I don't always answer them. Sometimes, I feel some questions answers is simply to remove what makes the question in the first place.
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you should look at the meters or rhythms or whatever in the first couple lines, it feels less like walking, treading, etc., than it does skipping. the triplet in the 2nd half of each of those lines ("have become" and "but they drained") is the cause of this and your poem would do better to talk about walking while walking metrically, not dancing. i actually think you should look at the whole poem metrically and really consider what it's doing, but i think that i am generally alone and old fashioned when it comes to this.
i think you should examine your use of punctuation in the poem as well. it weirds me out that you have sentences like "ripped it open, its contents spilled to the ground" because i'm not really sure which way is up or down. maybe its for structure or maybe you really want to make sure that the reader is paying attention to the pauses, but its confusing as hell to me.
i think that you should consider your use of metaphor. first, the narrator calls the streets his home (without wanting to imply that he was homeless which is sort of what that kind of figurative language would suggest), but suddenly he is "treading on their skin". when i close my eyes i can't see this image. first, none of the homes i have ever had ever had any skin. not only that, but i have never walked on somebody elses skin, not even like a bear rug because I think that would be weird. well, maybe i might have walked on a leather jacket that somebody left on the floor, but i don't really see how that would be relevant.
and then you confuse me even more because the you say that the narrator's heart is drained. i have never known a home to rip someone's heart out, or drain (what i presume is) its blood. and, as several posters above pointed out, concrete is not known for its absorptive qualities.
i don't like the word "bereft". i think that it is ugly.
i love the kenning. is that what it is? that was the highlight for me.
it's really good that you're writing poetry. keep writing (and reading) it.
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On June 27 2012 14:04 DigiGnar wrote:
Poetry is hard work. I'm still trying to finish like, twelve poems I've been working on for a year and a half now. Where I learned to critique from, or where I learned (not from), was a site called poetry free for all. Just google that with forums on the end, and you should get there. Loads of information there, like which books are good and such. I think some lauerates(Spell check!) mod the site, too. If you don't know what that is, it's people who are like... a nobel piece prize winner or something. They know their shit.
If the city took this dude's purpose, what was that purpose? Does he have a new purpose now? You say the streets provide his direction, maybe they gave him a purpose...
And while I did take the first line some what literally, if you say the streets are your home, no matter how you spin that, it's going to seem like you're homeless. Thoughts of a ninja like kid who has to steal from restaurants kind of came to my mind.
Also, what forces this guy to have a bond with the city? That seems like a choice to me. Still, with my suggestion, a homeless guy would be more forced to bond with the city rather than someones who lives in a house. If this guy actually has a place to live, he could very well just stay inside for the rest of his life. No forced bonding going on.
I like to ask myself questions about a poem, though I don't always answer them. Sometimes, I feel some questions answers is simply to remove what makes the question in the first place.
Ok, I think when I work on this later I'll take out that first line and find a better replacement. Its kind of funny, that was one of the original lines to this poem. The poem has changed a lot since its inception, but thats one of the few lines thats managed to stick around. Maybe I'm just reluctant to get rid of it because I've grown too fond of it.
Poetry has a weird way of doing that, it feels like I could keep changing the poem repeatedly until nothing is left of the original.
On June 27 2012 14:17 AiurZ wrote:
you should look at the meters or rhythms or whatever in the first couple lines, it feels less like walking, treading, etc., than it does skipping. the triplet in the 2nd half of each of those lines ("have become" and "but they drained") is the cause of this and your poem would do better to talk about walking while walking metrically, not dancing. i actually think you should look at the whole poem metrically and really consider what it's doing, but i think that i am generally alone and old fashioned when it comes to this.
i think you should examine your use of punctuation in the poem as well. it weirds me out that you have sentences like "ripped it open, its contents spilled to the ground" because i'm not really sure which way is up or down. maybe its for structure or maybe you really want to make sure that the reader is paying attention to the pauses, but its confusing as hell to me.
i think that you should consider your use of metaphor. first, the narrator calls the streets his home (without wanting to imply that he was homeless which is sort of what that kind of figurative language would suggest), but suddenly he is "treading on their skin". when i close my eyes i can't see this image. first, none of the homes i have ever had ever had any skin. not only that, but i have never walked on somebody elses skin, not even like a bear rug because I think that would be weird. well, maybe i might have walked on a leather jacket that somebody left on the floor, but i don't really see how that would be relevant.
and then you confuse me even more because the you say that the narrator's heart is drained. i have never known a home to rip someone's heart out, or drain (what i presume is) its blood. and, as several posters above pointed out, concrete is not known for its absorptive qualities.
i don't like the word "bereft". i think that it is ugly.
i love the kenning. is that what it is? that was the highlight for me.
it's really good that you're writing poetry. keep writing (and reading) it.
Ahh, thats something I haven't thought of much. How the meter ties into the poem. I never considered that the rhythm was too light for its subject matter. I would just sound out the rhythm in my head and work it out until it flowed well. But if I can get it to flow well with a more appropriate tone. Hmm... you gave me a lot to think about, but thats gonna be a hard change to carry out, haha..
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eliot said something like he worked more of a metricist than he ever did an arranger of ideas.
just grab a couple books on prosody and read up on it. it's not just helpful for writing poems, but it helps you enjoy reading them too.
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EPT
