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Critical Analysis #2
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A poem called drifting
| Critical Analysis #2 |
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A poem called drifting |
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scuffedshoe2 Junior Member
since 2003-08-04
Posts 39 |
Three friends and I get on reed-boat We step off the dock carefully Its not yet morning And the planks that make the dock are covered in slippery moss There is a shadow, a vague outline of a black clothed figure That sits at the front of the boat He does not move He does not speak But he tells us to sit still And to stay silent We begin to travel down the river were floating on in our reed-boat The water ripples away from us as we slide silently over its diamond encrusted surface The fog that cloaks us from eyes that may have seen us from a near-by river bank Is extremely thick, and surrounds us, but is not close enough to us to touch It looks like white silk, cool and slippery I wish I was naked, and could roll in it I look one of my friends in the eyes And can tell the same thought is crossing her mind There is no noise around us In this a gray and brown morning in the middle of a river Somewhere on our journey of life Were going in a straight line reason tells me But I know that, that cannot be No one ever gets where they want to go by traveling in a straight line Or very rarely Will I know my way back When the fog subsides And the sun starts to shine When the figure has dropped us off? Will any of my friends, if I dont Have they been paying attention? I hope more so than I have The figure sends out a wave an invisible, silent wave of fear Each of us in unison turn our heads to him He tells us without words to stay quiet He is sensing our rising curiosity He senses the questions brewing in our minds We cannot speak Hes just doing his job We jerk to a stop After we all turned to the figure I spent my time trying to breathe s quietly as possible Trying not to move at all Trying not to blink, because that to made a tiny noise The foggy morning air helped a lot In the midst of all of this effort My sense of time was lost And again I had not been paying attention Have I missed something important? I cant worry about that now Once again Ill have to rely on my friends The shore line we stop at is grassy and muddy Each of us step out, all but one Two of us were out when we turned around to find the third friend hadnt moved at all the figure and the boat slipped away into the morning silently none of us spoke to question her no one shouted after her, wanting her to come back we all looked at each other, my two friends and I and looked away expressionless and I led the way now we marched through the now dominantly brown hazy morning through patches of wet bamboo weaving between countless trees until wed come to a hut it to covered almost completely in moss their was a fire inside I just knew somehow And so did my friends We went inside And let down out burdens and sat around the fire expressionless I tried to remember the last time anyone had talked I tried to think of something to say to break the silence But I couldnt think of anything So I left it up to one of my friends Finally someone spoke Does anyone know where we are the sound of a voice scared me and it scared our other fried as well NoI hesitated to speak anymore after just one word the sound of my own voice was surprising it had been so long since last Id herd any voice besides the aged, wise voice I let speak for me inside No I dont the third fried spoke I dont either, but I think maybe if we all pieced together the little bits we remember, we could paint an entire picture. For the next hour or so, who can say how long it was We each shared out version of he story How we started To where we were now Three different accounts Of the exact same journey How different and similar we are My friends and I And after all our sharing, and thinking We still didnt know Im tired, I said Lets just go to sleep. We cant, we have to figure this out. we can figure it out later Yeah, lets rest a while, with some sleep, our heads will become clearer, and things will be easier to figure out. Fine, you two sleep, I staying up and figuring this out. So we did, my one remaining female friend and I slept across from each other I winked at her before we went to sleep And she smiled and tried to wink back But both of her eyes squeezed shut, and we both giggled The next morning I woke up freezing The fire had gone out And she was still sleeping So I took a blanket from my backpack And spread it over her She didnt even flinch She was so tired, I could tell from the look on her face I looked around outside for my third friend But he was gone maybe hes just off on a walk but I knew he wasnt coming back I was always sharp like that I always had that advantage When I chose to listen anyway So I went back inside the hut And woke her up my last remaining friend Id lost two so far Ill have to be careful not to loose this one And while she thawed from a long slumber It dawned on me that the light, the temperature, everything Was just the same as we left it When wed decided to go to sleep I know my body and trust it And I know what it feels like To get a good nights sleep And my body was telling me that Id slept a full night But he sky was telling me that I hadnt slept for more than ten minutes I looked a my friend And she looked at me We were thinking the same thing again But we did not speak We just strapped on our burdens and left the hut the way we found it Empty There is no end to this journey No discovery of civilization at last I even end up loosing my last remaining friend The sky never changed And nether do my surroundings I am experiencing the same acre of land Square for square over and over again I continue to loose concentration I continue to miss the signs That would point me in the right direction If Id only correctly budget my time |
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| © Copyright 2003 scuffedshoe2 - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Not A Poet Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885Oklahoma, USA |
If you would clean up all the misspellings, correct the punctuation and trim it by about 50 per cent, you might have a start at an essay. As poetry, I don't see how it could be fixed. There are a few hundred too many words to start with. Then except for the dark figure in the boat, there is no meaningful imagery. You are simply narrating a series of events. Although it is an old cliche it is still true, poetry should show rather than tell. Contractions in the English language always include an apostrophe yet you used none. Your lines simply run on and seem to ramble. Although you do have some punctuation, much of it is incorrect and so much more is needed in order for the reader to make sense of this. I don't like to be harsh but you probably should just scrap this piece. You might be able to salvage the idea by including some imagery and trimming most of the words away but I think it will take a great dea of skill to cover so much territory in one poem. Of course, this is all just one opinion and it is your property so do as you see fit. Pete |
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scuffedshoe2 Junior Member
since 2003-08-04
Posts 39 |
hey pete- hey thanks man. I actually don't care for this one all that much. I just wanted to hear what people have to say. Thanks for reading, and i didn't think you were harsh at all. http://rustychariot.tripod.com make sure you find my other stuff and give it a combing for em too if you'd like to. |
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grassy ninja Junior Member
since 2003-07-20
Posts 41Kentucky |
i, too, had a hard time with this poem. for one, when i tried to use the review topic icon, my computer couldn't pull it up because the poem was too long and the whole thing froze up. second, you have a long poem, with long lines, long sentences, written in one long stanza. there are also many places where you repeat yourself. when you tell us you are going down the river, you don't have to tell us again that you are in the boat made of reeds. that is implied by the lines before. i agree with Not A Poet's assessment. this piece is more like prose, maybe a stream of consciousness piece. one thing that i try when i'm trying to shorten my poem is to rewrite it using half as many lines as i used in the original draft. if you can't decide what to keep, try writing from memory. if you sit down and write just what you remember from the poem, without looking at it, you're more likely to remember what was important, not to mention what lines you found most effective. good luck. |
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Not A Poet Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885Oklahoma, USA |
That sounds like an effective technique for trimming a long piece. I like it. |
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