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Post by raelos on Nov 22, 2012 2:01:41 GMT
So, I wrote some poetry a year or two ago, and promptly forgot....And have since forgotten the sheer volume I'd written though I write no more. So, have some poetry! Should really be seen somewhere... (This one, because I like the wording)
(Myself) To death
Where is my mind? That’s what I was hoping you could help me find Interchangeable, Malleable and lost,How am I to know where it wanted to go? I feel as if its gone now, lost after struggles internecine;
Half is gone, half is here, In the shadow of a twilit mentality I’ve been looking for that half so long now I feel as if it was never there to begin with And now I fear that in the end I’ll just be another lost soul, swimming in a fish bowl, Year after year
But what do I have to fear? I’ve what others would want here But nothing that I’d truly call dear I need to leave this sphere Make sense of what’s left in here Maybe another’s taken it And is looking for what I have just as I look in turn for what they've got
What a humbling thought Maybe I’m not as mad as I’d first thought Or maybe I’m lost, adrift, Caught in a rift, Scrabbling for something to pull me together again
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Post by unfavouredguest on Nov 28, 2012 12:08:27 GMT
I like it. It becomes erratic sometimes, but somehow that adds to it. Although some of the rhymes seem slightly forced.
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Post by secretly_broken on Dec 1, 2012 19:54:37 GMT
I like the atmosphere of whimsy in the poem. It's quite well done, but I have to agree with unfavouredguest that some of the rhymes seem a little forced.
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Post by lovelovelovethud on Jan 15, 2013 18:36:49 GMT
I don't necessarily take issue with the rhyming; yes it might be perceived as forced, but in itself it is sporadic enough to be perceived as an almost bemused exasperation, juxtaposing as it does weighty subject matter with an almost ridiculous childlike rhymes; nowhere better than in the opening line which is slightly reminiscent of one suffering from senile dementia.
Having said that, I felt the poem lost its way towards the end of the second verse and never recovered. It seems to begin to take on a less interesting tone of teenage angst and altogether says little of value. Despite having plenty of things that others might seek, the speaker would prefer to 'leave this sphere' and make sense of it all, fine in itself but when you just blurt it out in that very telly way, it does take on that juvenile dimension.
This sounds like a harsh critique but it isn't intended to be; I think this poem is worth a second look, and it would be a shame if you didn't develop it, or indeed other pieces you may have written.
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