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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

reverie

Poet
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Everything posted by reverie

  1. Rules are made to be broken Question to ask is what does the syllable count serve? Is it consistant throughout for the sake of meter (I'm terrible at formal meter schemes btw, they completely go over my head), or is it more of loose guideline. If more formal, you can also deviate from the form for effect. I read a Scottish poet, once that did that with an english sonnet. It was like, I can play your game, but here's one better too.
  2. reverie

    Hope for Dawn

    The days all mix together, With dreams of days past. My smiles and my tears, My hopes and my fears. (nice, not sure why, but it just works, ya know) What worth is left in life these, days? An emptiness that, An emptiness that (The god of Pathos, says go for it, and let it linger, as you shake you're head and smirk a little when you say it on stage) A new day dawns, (Not sure, how you're doing it, but you're making it work. It takes something really genuine to make a cliche work for you, ya know) Bright and promising. Should I hope, for better things? (tweak) When everything is dark, Any light seems bright. (tweak) Is it a false dawn, Or the thing for which, I dare not hope?
  3. This is pure gold. Nice ending. Didn't think you would go for dramatic incompetent (begs the reading to complete) ending, which is why it works so well. Title could maybe be revised. No suggestions, just feels like something else could rest there too. interim i haven't thought about you for days except when motorcycles ripped up the road at eight when the doctor called in anger at nine when lawyers wrote the custody papers at ten when the internet spread your news at eleven when our daughter had her birthday at twelve when i had my breakdown at (slight tweak)
  4. Agreed. But have you considered this? Silence for so long But fond memories return Never gone for good * * * cheers, rev...
  5. Speaking of bent spoons. Why not just bend it, nix the "a" article, and make more mysterious like so: Three times draw Savador's rune in beeswax with orange dye. Scrape the floor with bent spoon (Nixing the "a) and neglect not a touch of lye. * * * hooray for creative RPG-geeEEEE--poemy making magics!!! I'm not a witch. I'm a lord of balance, Muuuhhahahahahahahah!!!
  6. Hmm, as you say, 'tis a fragment, it will be interesting to see if you do more with it. But, have you considered this. Am not saying do it, but having fun with structure while brainstorming is well...fun. Original The thrill of the kill That familiar chill Down your spine * * * Lala The thrill of the kill that familiar down your spine chill even more fun: The trill of the kill (that will mess with them. Heck, that's fodder for a whole poem there)
  7. The Writer jumbled thoughts jotted down fragments of a perfect vision (try nixing the "a", and add "perfected vison"; shifts it a little, huh?) shaking hands unfaithful transcribers scribes (efficiency is your strength, embrace it young Hemingway) of something perfect (no need to lay it on too thick for people) a second hand retelling (phrasing, it's all about phrasing) of a vivid imagination (works as is, but hmmm, if you want to stretch a little, try "of a vivid imagined" / "of a vivid imagined thing" breaking the rules is half the fun) a unfaithful story (works as is, but my edits make it yearn for an article here, yours may do otherwise) imperfect
  8. Original to amuse a muse one must digress into extra-curricular randomness. * * * Perfect, don't change a thing, except maybe you could lose the period, maybe; I don't know, I'm not convinced. cheers, rev...
  9. Hmm, this almost riddle, let's make it even more almost one using that goldie, but oldie, "make the last line refer back to the title." It begs for completion, like an incomplete perfect authentic cadence in music, people automatically want to complete it in their head. Add in something unexpected and unknown, and you create pleasure as brain tries to wrap it's head around this novel thing you put before it. So saith the NPR. cheers, rev... Original She's a bit fickle And doesn't tickle Very often my suggests / edits Often (title) She's a bit fickle And doesn't tickle
  10. Original Away the faint drizzle of rain as your blood drains - drains away thunder is near pounding in your ears - pounding away prospects are slim as your vision dims -going away * * * my suggest / edits Away the faint drizzle as blood drains and drains (doesn't really make sense, but instinct says it will pay) and drains thunder is near, pounding, pounding in your ears prospects slim as your vision dims, going away
  11. Titles are tools, play with them. I am say embrace this minimalist style. You have knack for it. Original thunder again the sound rolls by lightning strikes far in the eastern sky -smells of rain My suggest / edits Eastern Skies thunder again lightning strike -smells of rain
  12. Original Inspiration like a single thought lifted on a fickle breeze a spark gives newfound life to a soaring flame but without wood to burn it silently sputters out My suggest / edits: Inspiration like a single thought lifted on a fickle breeze, a spark gives life to a soaring flame, but without wood to burn, it silently sputters
  13. Good bare bones style. But, I believe you could take the efficiently impulse a step or two further. Like so: Beauty (could make Title) silence a light breath darkness a lone flame a thought defiant *** hmm, or how 'bout this. *** A Thought Defiant (make title) silence a light breath darkness a lone flame beauty
  14. Good, but let's heighten that tone a touch shall we. A smile hides many things. For me, it is a dream. One, I dare not share, for fear it will vanish into the air. So behind my mask I'll scream, (hmm, if you're screaming behind mask, how does that translate into happy appearance on surface? Step is missing) so others think it is happiness I sing. (yeah, am thinking last two lines don't really mesh well with the first four). How about this: So with a mask I'll sing, so others cannot hear me scream. (kind of works, sort of) * ******** * You must climb up, the mountain high, outrun the approaching tide. Arrive, stop and grin. Alone at the top, again. Okay, I did one, you do the other
  15. reverie

    Guilt

    Why be unhappy. Part ways if you can. Staying together for the...blank. Isn't always fun for the blank. Move on, find your thing, whatever it is, and be at peace (it could take while, keep searching). I wrote this other day on face book, might help: Everything seems to try to convince that "I am better than...". We're not. I'm not. Though our society pits us against each other; make peace with yourself. Find your thing, whatever that is. If don't have one, do everything -- do, until you find how to be. The people you hate, loath, get outrage at, wish to be apart are people in pain the same as you. Struggling always... Find your calm, and the world will change around you. Spread peace.
  16. reverie

    Reaping

    This would go well with choreography. Ever considered writing for the stage? I know you can do slam, maybe you can do more
  17. reverie

    Called home

    Okay, very personal poem seems like, so I'll just with help the grammar / punctuation and such. I don't know, maybe you're just not into commons, but I highlighted a few places where you could put them if you like. Also, very relavent poem for our time. Thanks for taking it on. As a student of Chinese medicine, I hear stories like this all the time. It seemed too “un-doctor-like” to say; (maybe add hypen) “Her spirit has fled,” (add common at end) So instead we offered to withdraw care (add common at end) To stop the drip-dripping of the drugs That were flogging her to keep going. (flogging, flogging, flogging...hmm, how about dogging). We knew she was already gone (add common at end) Having seen so much death, As physicians, we offer facts, perhaps devoid of truth: (common, common, colon) Her blood pressure is too low, (common) Her heart rate too slow. (period) You told me it sounded like we were ready to give up, (common maybe) That you were praying for the miracle, (maybe common) That And God would take her, "When He was ready, And not before." What we knew and had not words to say: No battles left, the war lost, God-given free will in the form of, the Almighty Medicine Keeping her tethered to the earth To you perhaps she looked as if She was fighting for her life, gasping for breath (common) And it hurt you too much to let go, (common) While she was laboring so hard To deliver her soul herself up. What you saw was the struggle to quit, (common maybe) Against the force of Medicine: (colon / common / semi-colon) Keeping her breathing, her heart (line rearrange tweak) beating blood sluggishly pumping against its will. (period) I wanted to say “He has called her home,” (common) But the role of doctor had me, wrapped up too tight (changing stanza link will recall an ending envoy of a more formal poem) And you kept your vigil, until she won the fight. (add period, but good ending)
  18. Falling in love, with a broken heart (Make Title, but can still keep it as the first line too) Trying to breathe underwater I am swimming (this stanza and the next 4 are gold) In wet concrete Walking on fractured limbs Splintered bones grinding through skin Awakening sweat-slick And frozen Guilt shuddering through me Approaching the ending of possibility (You start losing me here) Unafraid With an implacable mien (so not sure what you mean here, it's like saying "demeanor that can't be soothed," which implies that your outwardly showing strong emotion, but is that what you're going for? I would think you would want to highlight the opposite. "Impeccable" might work if you were going for that). Quietly considering The primal scream (rhyme is a limitation. Hmm, but what do you actually mean by Primal Scream? Rage, Grief, Hurt, Orgasm???) Silence and sleep Await me I am determined to seek peace (So this line, seems like it is alluding to a lot, but a lot that has been left unsaid. I think you're going for the illuminating the conflict of trying to love someone, while you're still recovering from deep hurt, but you haven't taken me along for the ride, so your last line fall flat for me. I see pain, but not the love) this is only theoretically possible. (Could work, but as said above, I'm not there with you yet).
  19. Not bad. Zombie couple concept is a nice twist. Raising the question of who is / who should have been listening more to whom. A few grammar / punctuation tweaks here and there, but I think it stands pretty well as is. "I think its time to talk about some things you're doing, Ned, (Lose the first common) what is going on with you?" She waited. "Brains." He said. (Convert 2nd period to common, decaps "He") "You never change your clothing (add common at end) its (it's) always full of stains, Why cant you do some laundry?" (can't) Came the answer..."Brains." (You know, maybe not here, but you can always play with the word "Refrain," like in musical chorus that repeats) "You don't wash the dishes or do yard work anymore (add common / semi-colon at end) Can you tell me, what is happening?" "Brains!" he (stompend / swung / shrugged and) swore. "You lost your job, you never sleep and all your friends complain that you never text or visit them. Hey, what gives? Explain." "And one more thing I'd like to say about last night in bed, you bit me way to (too) hard and now I'm ... BRAAAAIIIiiiiinnssss," she said.
  20. reverie

    #74

    Still love those italics I see. Hey Mira, what's up. Long time no talk. Hmm. Great lead in, you got me for the first 5 lines. Feels real, but then the " heart hidden within / a chest" falls a little flat for me. Why's the heart hidden, if you can feel it? Or at least remember how it felt. Last line doesn't do it for me either, but poem as whole has potential. Here's something you could try (example only, am not saying you should do this). So long it has been, since I felt the heat of skin upon skin; Felt the beat skip heart hidden (bitten?), ripped (then let it tumble, erratic into excited staccato lust-speak vibe) or Felt the heart beat (same tumble, but use the orgasm crescendo heartbeat wave, building, fast as @#@$, recovery afterglow slowing slow, as your launching off point.) cheers, rev
  21. reverie

    Poisoned

    Okay, so my take on this is you are trying show us how pain inspires you to write or be creative. A lemons into lemonade triade thing huh? *nods* Well done. You have talent, so don't hold back. Get personal. You can always reign it in later. Pick one vivid and painful moment, which inspired you, then bring in some details to flesh out say the middle of the poem. Doesn't have to be much, but when people hear pain, they want something solid to connect too, something they can relate to their own lives. If you're preforming this, your emotional performance can carry the audience along with you. But since, your tone has already prepared them to sympathise with you, give them something they can chew on, they can see, something that might have happened to them, and then not only will the sympathise, they'll empathize with you. keep writing. cheers, rev
  22. Very good. A very slam-able poem. Only suggestion. Pick a point in the poem, either the middle or the near the end and step out of the frame. Keep the "you suck like," frame, but then paint a very real scene, lay it on thick, like the poet is losing it a little, and getting so angry that the can't control their disgust and the meter of the poem breaks down / you break down into short rant). Example: You suck like your boyfriend can't suck me (then go into way too much information land, and let it go on and on, until you are on the verge of a breakdown. Or instead of one long scene, have cascade of shorter ones that build on each other and get longer and longer until the persona breaks down, then pause and go back to the original meter like nothing happened to close. Example: You suck like when I'm stick at home waiting / waiting on the phone / at a bar looking for you drunk ass etc. You're slamming, so don't be afraid to expletives. Might not be pen-friendly, but in RL shoot for the moon. I feel, she said, that suck so big that it will snap you like a f***ing twig,
  23. Rhyme is good, but you can break those chains! and fly like so: Oh stuffed animal, you've seen me cry, heard me whisper, I want to... But you embraced me and told me, everything in time, then held me through the night.
  24. Ooooo, you're on to something, but let's make it even more haunting and damning to the persona. Separate out the lines: 1,3,5,7, 9 and let them float, non-punctuated, like the disembodied intro fluff of a hallmark or heartwarming retail commercial. Then heighten the shift in line 11, by making it the hinge point of the poem, when things turn dark. Condense the culled out even lines together for a more haunting ending. Her complexion each morning is fresh without make-up She showers a lovingly bright smile on all she meets She gives the best advice a friend can give She's the one you call at any hour knowing she'll be there She's the one who is always strong She's the one you take for granted, the one who has always been there, the one who will always be: Neglected unless needed, disrespected, despite words of thanks. Always the friend, washed clean by the tears of the night. A shield against the showing of pain you do not want to know, but cannot take, because she is not worth your consideration. If she is ever weak, she may break forever.
  25. Forgive me, I wasn't sure what you poem was trying to get at i.e. what particular joyful event you were trying to showcase. So, I took some liberties and edited with an a eye towards creating a swell crescendo thing (thin beginning, bigger at end). Ending is good, only I tweaked it slightly to add more swell. It starts with a whisper, a hint of warmth, a surge of peace, painting just a touch of life into an old picture. Listening, a faint jangle of chimes, a silvery, heraldic ringing; building up -- not chaotically -- rhythmic, as disorganized and beautiful as an ocean's swell, then Splash! My eyes are opened to catch a brilliant flash of day -- beautiful, sudden -- the diamond fractal shines true; again, and again, there, there! I catch my breath as the miracle of creation presents itself to me. The music within a thundering symphony bringing tears of humility and awe; Then fades again and again to the soft ringing of the bells the scent of a love, a mother's embrace, the sweet sunshine on the dew yes, this,this is joy.
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