Sta.sh
| Official deviantART critiques I've done. These are mostly, if not completely, for poetry works; as poetry is one of the few subjects on which I have enough insight to critique. |
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umareA new soulumare by =abunai59
pushed forcefully,
slimy and red,
caressed, caringly,
into a sterile,
fluorescent world;
not knowing
how the past and future collide
to form us
fiery, hardened beings
dark, watery souls
in the shapes of ancestors, unknown,
the flow of time is too much
for these curious eyes to behold.
sleep wakingthe birds chirpsleep waking by =abunai59
in inverse time
the little hands on the clock tick
as the world spirals
my brittle hands on the clock talk
into out to darkness
as the clock,
tick-tock,
shakes me awake
again back and
and back again
as my face,
meeting yours,
collides with the wall.
why my poetry sucksfor personal reference in the future,why my poetry sucks by =abunai59
a summary of current criticism on my writing...
one of my biggest problems is that
i have a tendency to overstate the obvious
it's not good poetry if the meaning is direct
there's no mystery to it, besides language obscurity.
but what does that do? it simply makes it less readable.
this ultimately makes it less enjoyable for poetry readers.
things to consider:
if the meaning is hidden by language obscurity instead of symbolism or metaphor,
it is probably more of prose than poetry
it's like being obscure simply for the sake of obscurity
this doesn't mean that the work is terrible,
it simply means that it should probably not be categorized as poetry.
works that are not direct:
[a poet's trashcan] - http://fav.me/d5mijg7
Pulse - http://fav.me/d5tv9e4
apples - http://fav.me/d5w669j
works that are direct (meaning is literal or obvious):
Coffee-fuele
spaceswhen did apathy transcendspaces by =abunai59
from a scrawny side dish
to a full-course meal?
(i'm so full of it)
and how do i even
walk the earth
on such a flimsy diet?
(my stomach growls)
will i continue
to stumble along?
(it's too bright outside)
or will i,
one day,
be swept away
in a passing breeze?
(my breath sweeps
eraser shavings
from the crease between pages
as the wind blows
paper planes and lost balloons
through carved valleys and ghost towns)
we really are just pages, aren't we?
(you and i)
| Official deviantART critiques I've done. These are mostly, if not completely, for poetry works; as poetry is one of the few subjects on which I have enough insight to critique. |
