Will post some of mine here very soon!
No Exit (2011)
I’d like to leave early.
I know I’ll miss
the rest of my life,
but that’s okay.
I’ve spent all my years
and now I’m done.
So I’d like to leave early,
if I may.
Perhaps someone else
can use up my leftover
time; or share it
with friends and family.
Even if you paid me
to stay, I’d still like
to leave early,
before the ****
hits the fan, as it were.
Before more people die
of violence and hatred,
before it touches me
and causes pain
for everyone else.
I’d like to leave early
so I can fly
with the birds
or swim with the fishes
and play angel
to those who stay
Last edited by maewest; 08-10-2012 at 08:07 PM.
Reason: want to add date of poem
Here's an older one (1998)
And in her travels she passed through an ancient chamber
Cavern walls, chiseled halls of amethyst and vetiver
The moon did flatter a statue of alabaster
Bathed in ghostly light, she sighed and did surrender
For none so beautiful had she seen before; it glowed with pride
Sleek in form, with a dancer’s grace; long and lean each side
The son who was never conceived - could he be? Of Aries and Aphrodite
Ardent eyes revealed his source - the Gods of War and Beauty
Despite the moon she was moved to touch
trembling, faltering she tried
Wishing him real as flesh and bone
a landscape o’er which she’d glide
Cold to the touch was his porcelain skin!
She ached to breathe life into dust
Willing her lips past a terrible sneer
Longing for love over lust
Alas! The stone angel vanished then,
her sweet anticipated swoon
suspended forever by cruel night
in league with jealous moon
Pretty shallow, selfish, cowardly, and contemptible sentiments portrayed. The petitioner would be better suited to play a devil than an angel. This is not a poem as far as I can tell. There is no rhyme, no rhythm, no metaphor, no clever language, nothing in the least even to remotely suggest poetry. It is simply prose minced to look like a poem. On the plus side, it's clear and understandable.
A little more interesting. A little bit of rhyme, but still no rhythm. Here's the story I think I understand: Some sort of goddess finds an alabaster statue of a hottie demi-god in a chamber. She thinks he is a depiction of the offspring of the gods of war and beauty. Somehow the moon and this statue got it going on, but the goddess tries to horn in. She wants to bring the statue to life, to breathe life into him, so she can love him. But just as the goddess's glands really start juicing, the statue vanishes, thanks to the teamwork of night and moon.
I have not a clue what this means. Not even the faintest. Pretty careless language, in my opinion:
"Vetiver" is some kind of oil or perfume, isn't it? It's nothing that can be "chiseled".
Ares is the Greek god. Aries is a zodiac sign. From my limited reading, Ares was not particularly a god of war, but of violence and destruction, and Greeks held him in contempt. As I understand it, it was the militant Romans who gave Ares more prestige and changed his name to Mars. However, Ares DID hook up with Aphrodite; she was a goddess of pretty darn loose morals.
She wants him real as flesh and bone so she can glide over him as if he were a landscape? Does that make any sense at all to you, even figuratively? Because it doesn't to me. What are you trying to say?
Ooops, the statue went through a molecular change from alabaster to porcelain. That's quite a degradation from mineral to clay. This goddess does not have the Midas touch, to say the least.
She's sneering? I thought she was in love with the statue. Or is the statue sneering? Or are the moon and night sneering? Who the crap's sneering terribly and why?
Ooops, more statue alchemy from porcelain to stone and it's sprouted wings. It was really an angel disguising itself as a hot bastard demi-god, and angels and goddesses do not mix, so buh-bye. The night and moon put the dowser on the goddess.
What on earth is this poem about? What was your purpose in writing it? I can't make heads or tails of it.
Thanks for the critique. Vetiver is a resin and can be chiseled if solidified. Porcelain and alabaster are similar to stone. The statue sneers cause it was carved that way.
In a nutshell, the poem is about a woman who lusts for an emotionally unavailable man who happens to be really, really hot.
Okay, just looked up "vetiver". It's an Indian grass with aromatic roots that yield an oil used for perfume. So no, not a resin. Either grass, roots, oil, or perfume. I suppose you could try to chisel roots, but they'd probably just mash.
Porcelain, alabaster, and stone are similar in some other dimension perhaps, but not the one in which we happen to reside.
So she's attracted to a terribly sneering statue. Okaaay.
Ah, well...emotionally unavailable man...statue - that's a great metaphor. I'd keep that, but I'd get rid of all the mythology stuff; that's just clogging and confusing the meaning, in my opinion.
Now all that alchemy can make some symbolic sense if you attach it to a relationship. When the gal first meets him, he's gorgeous, but socially/emotionally shy - he's an alabaster statue. The art and gemstone symbolize physical beauty, the statue itself symbolizes emotional immobility - GREAT metaphor. Then...she touches him...she starts a relationship with him, and he turns to porcelain, symbolizing emotional fragility. She discovers that he's socially/emotionally shy for a reason; he's suffered some terrible loss, perhaps a woman he loved. Also, maybe the sneer mars the statue's visage when she touches him, like she touched a sore spot. Then she tries to form a deeper relationship with him, and he rejects her...he turns to stone, because he doesn't want to be hurt again. Hey, now you got it going on, girl! That's some hefty poetry there if you can whip up some good language to go with the idea.
So...eliminate the mythology, base this more on an attempted relationship instead of lusting for a hook-up, and make it pretty plain that the statue is a metaphor for an actual flesh and blood guy. You could refer to the statue as "you" and that would be plenty plain. I think you have the foundation of a great poem here.
Last edited by John Oberon; 09-11-2012 at 04:16 AM.
Wow John, thanks for seeing the nugget in the **** pile!! I will consider your suggestions. I think I used the mythological language to express how hopelessly unobtainable my object of love seemed to me. Like a god, you know? But if I'm going to take that path, I'd better have my ducks in a row, agreed. Funny that you suggest the statue is "me" - I never saw it that way, but now it makes perfect sense....
Well, I didn't mean "you" as in yourself, but "you" as in the statue, the guy. So a couplet might be:
I saw you in the crowded room that moonlit night,
Alabaster hewn by art to give my eyes light.
"I" is you, and "you" is the guy. Notice how I reversed the rhythm - first line iambic, second trochaic...like a heart doing a flip-flop, lol. You could have so much fun with this.
So...the dude was hot, huh? What did he look like? What did you find so appealing? I think falling in love with a statue conveys "hopelessly unattainable" just fine, lol. No mythology needed.
By the way, I think just the fact that you endeavor to write poetry is great. That desire is not in too many people. I've written PLENTY of **** piles, so don't feel so bad, lol.
Last edited by John Oberon; 09-12-2012 at 03:52 AM.
I liked your couplet!
Here's another one of mine:
We are selfish in our craft, yes
and cursed with the gifts we ply.
To weave illusion into fact!
We live for lies, and die
when dour minds oppose our ends
the trick’s been all for naught.
What magic lingers stings the hearts
of all who’ve loved and lost.
Interesting, but I think the punctuation makes it confusing. So...the charmers are poets?