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Critical Analysis #2
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every boy and girl- read whole thing please! tell me what to change
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Critical Analysis #2
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every boy and girl- read whole thing please! tell me what to change
| Critical Analysis #2 |
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every boy and girl- read whole thing please! tell me what to change |
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18 Junior Member
since 2007-03-28
Posts 25 |
About a girl So your friends are all sinners Sentenced to condemned relations spent genuine originations Locked in here with girls and men stinking with stagnation Self destruction intentions scream arrogant contempt of a key to release Perfections bred resistance Left an infant in a spotlights distant internment Shear despised childlike shades from childlike ways You were alive, its just time falls the same on everything Naive feet fell over time as you fell into change Being born of a perfect earthen meaning you were more than natural Hurt came when perfect molded and collapsed like clay between pressuring palms Time wrought forgiveness stolen and gone for each accident Pinchin cookie cutter shapes of mistakes from your god and your faith in plea and repent Saturday nights drove moths to scratch their way in Sunday’s best Couldn’t rest where the lessons linger in a hangover Between church pews you can hear a good Christians whisper “Why is she here?” Hands on skin scratch the surface like moths on Sunday’s dress But they got words to dig deeper than moths fingers do to those clothes Flagrant blame led shameful eyes downwards Drag chains down isles in shapes of cowards What’s left of mistakes plague you’re faith Victimized wrote bold across your face Labeled and fake Contents weight pressed the very voice of her breathe Strangled, yet what lies words can take Burdened, she persists to pray “Saved.” A hope held truth in certainty A lie held so close promised an oath sold to hell for fallacy Price of souls Pretend the day ends with promises hollowed no less than when it began Painless sex and addiction chisel statement internally Carve precious demented remnants of yourself into something else of quality Discard the rest There is no unique in the blend or savor in what’s left of these hollow skeletons Rib cages cracked spill those empty breaths from holes where heart was ripped from chest by hands of them and what they meant From the same redemption Replace pieces of body and heart with duck taped doll parts Dress like you’re meant not to break and do so the best This is who you are Flawed under plastic complexions Behind bars of makeup you paste over personal imperfections Put beauty on flesh to bury the scars Paint to fill holes in your soul that others dug Paint on a face that will show a perfect plastic love cuz you weren’t made good enough So paint to forget the real original Paint to be fake Paint over the streaks left behind by prayers rejection shed gracefully in delicate leaks Speak evidence of needs in written ink trailing Comforting black insides of closed eyelids divided Surrender turns distress to artist Drag the violet from layers of eye shadow Streams now purple go down blush stained cheeks Taste need and pain where tears and lips meet Lips that state what they know or say of worlds “Lovers are losers” Cold words smother trampled fires Damp under ice covered letters intentions Oppression of your tongue froze lips together sealed with new friendships Start to end this as they break apart Lungs tear scream so hard you barely broke the freezing air About a boy He don’t come home anymore Impaired by more than the drugs he’s on Sure of where he’ll go; far from All-American, somewhere in a song, or close to a hole Its all his own and done Connection gone with closing doors Roots have grown to be torn from a place called home Selfishly you snatch at dirt and unearth to displace you from your own Fist orphaned of worldly conception hit the sky looking for more Slipped between a tight fingers grip horrified he dropped a dream Now he’s a dreams deception shy Fallen feet fell in step on to broken floors looking to fly A crypt kept remembrance of a man that didn’t die Blind and unspoken yet relentless he slept in his eyes Your head harbors judgments of mothers and fathers in constant despise of what you are no longer He’s spent long nights listening leaving him restless Gasping for meaning left him breathless He’s now on the run Regret the ghost he has become even more so that he was a son All that meant was abandonment A father had a son he didn’t want Written on pages so to be read like paper cuts to flaunt was a love never got Bleeding heart plea that a mother stopped caring Thoughts that live between dusk and dawn chase the days denying the sun So this is the life he chose, of broken bottles and buddies Sorrows rolled in a cigarette smolder to ash and fill the tray of aftermath you’re living in Smoking impotence, breathing in deep and exhale with the grievance of a so called death as if the boy of whom you speak is past tense in lyrics He sits ready to spill his guilt and guts Never sang enough He never had enough Waiting for somebody to listen Mistrust twists tongue to say wicked wrongs Conscience haste upon a song lush taste of disgust He strums pity in strings delicate touch He sings that he’s been forgot 18 and high the world was not but had an eye to help destruct Life he wants denied so swore to drown in this denial Teen angst brought pieces of his world down Now nothing of the child he’s been Magnificent he was filled with dreams Body he was born with Wrote poems and sonnets with colors of sunbeams Skin naked posed upon this planet as though canvas for purity Stained by reality He played a destiny to be great Notes over played told a fate wrote in smoke Closed the pain now seeing engraves written in stone Home comes slow in what he sings And he sang “This is my soul Singing it all through the heart beat touched Rhythm pushed blood into my veins and lungs So I could breathe and take in breathe Exhaled to sing and God let me sing this Cuz I been lost” Synonyms for regret and sorrow continue in friends Harlots for depression and so are now depressed Fingers placed upon frets felt what they meant Loves reprise lift wet red clouds from blood shot eyes Conscience choked red skies now clear to white Down the neck he strokes a joy for life Renewed chest rose with passion and fell in exertion A boy found purpose in hearts he’s broken A meaning for a first to virgin words carried on stuttered verses Shrouds of dry worthlessness pulled down in curtains Melted walls collapsed and crumbled Before devils steps forth a man from puddles of helter skelter Cut the rope severed from around your soul Untold restore that boy never felt there or here or anywhere |
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| © Copyright 2007 18 - All Rights Reserved | |||
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minus Member
since 2007-03-24
Posts 75 |
i will eventually read the whole thing. do not worry. however, to tell you what i would change based on my own subjective experience, taste, and knowledge base--i would have to print it out and write notes in the margin-- eventually sending it to you via the post office.......this is not a piece of work one can just sit down and critique in five minutes! you have an amazing number of gifts evident in this poem, the most obvious being attention span........some have already commented on what they think. others may try to read the whole thing, but i am afraid it may be too massive. |
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oceanvu2 Senior Member
since 2007-02-24
Posts 1066Santa Monica, California, USA |
Yes, well, I think the short form goes "Love hurts." To paraphrase Bob Dylan, "don't swallow litres, watch your barking meters." Obviously a sentient being at work here, you. Little things count, though, such as using "you're" for "your," "isle" for "aisle" and dropping in the ugly locution "cuz" out of nowhere. Big things count, too. People do read long poems. As far as I know, Homer and Virgil are still in print. Think about how you can invite a reader in from the very first line, and then keep them there. A hint: It does't have to do with adding adjectives. Best, Jim |
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Brad Member Ascendant
since 1999-08-20
Posts 5705Jejudo, South Korea |
I suppose this is your "howl"? Jim's right on trying to keep the reader wanting to read. Why not use sentences as well? |
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UseTheIllusion Member
since 2006-02-06
Posts 223In a state of limbo |
Now, I am guilty of doing the same thing, 18, but I am slowly seeing the error of my ways...you pack way to much information into a small space. God knows you have an excellent rhythm going here, and you also have a good subject, but it all gets lost in the sheer number of images you present; it's like sensory overload, for me at least. |
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18 Junior Member
since 2007-03-28
Posts 25 |
screw you guys this is perfection! nah im just kidding thanks for the help |
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viking_metal Senior Member
since 2007-02-02
Posts 1337In a Jeep, Minnesota. |
Adjectives do not define poetry. Valedictions, -Paul |
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poetninoit Junior Member
since 2007-06-10
Posts 20 |
I don't know if this will work but it's worth a try. You have a tremendous amount of talent in the description of what you are saying but don't over-use it. Try reading the poem and crossing out the parts that don't add to the main idea or that are overly descriptive. You might cross-out whole lines or just a few words. I've done this with stories i've written and it alway helps a great deal to cut down length. however, i have never edited any of my poems this way because i could never write a poem that long. Try it and let me know how it works [Removed by moderator] [This message has been edited by Not A Poet (06-10-2007 09:34 AM).] |
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poetninoit Junior Member
since 2007-06-10
Posts 20 |
Also the title " About a Girl" is a sonog by Nirvana. might wanna rename it. |
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every boy and girl- read whole thing please! tell me what to change
