Some part
Buru
Posts: 8,473
It's still a bit rough, I have to work on it...
Some part has relinquished love
The self resembling highway birds
flying into windshields,
painting blood flowers on glass,
trickling crimson rivers
that carry the fruit of their woe.
The murderous ideas ripple
in the great unrest,
In hostile fields of thought
the scavenged bird convulses
in visceral pain.
Some part has given up hope, yes.
The rest gives dreams to wings,
but has yet to live.
The bird rolls over and sleeps
on its plush red carpet.
And yet to die would be
a peace to end all wars.
In this scarlet bed
I lavish dreams upon,
the beginning of the end
cannot be traced.
Buru.
Some part has relinquished love
The self resembling highway birds
flying into windshields,
painting blood flowers on glass,
trickling crimson rivers
that carry the fruit of their woe.
The murderous ideas ripple
in the great unrest,
In hostile fields of thought
the scavenged bird convulses
in visceral pain.
Some part has given up hope, yes.
The rest gives dreams to wings,
but has yet to live.
The bird rolls over and sleeps
on its plush red carpet.
And yet to die would be
a peace to end all wars.
In this scarlet bed
I lavish dreams upon,
the beginning of the end
cannot be traced.
Buru.
y la banda de Guille... cuando toca?
Post edited by Unknown User on
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Comments
First stanza is excellent, until the last line.
get rid of woe - show us woe, or show how a feather crusts to a window in dried blood, or something...
The third stanza is good, but the second stanza starts to go too far into the realm of telling the reader how they should feel
murderous ideas - are there murderous ideas besides murder?
great unrest...very vague
hostile fields of thought...are these different from murderous thoughts?
visceral pain - does visceral really describe pain well?
the couplet, and the last stanza work. very nicely I might add.
I would say completely chop out the last line of stanza one, and stanza too altogether. Stay with the images, flush out thoughts, and not descriptions of what kinds of thoughts are happening, this will work beautifully in the end I'm sure.
peace
ETE
Thanks ELF, this is great input!
It's sometimes hard to pinpoint what you don't like in a poem, and I was finding myself stuck.
your best work yet. gotta share at hippie.
But you've switched from telling stories about birds flying into windows, to speaking in first person.
ok, so still a work in progress...
it's still uneven, I just might give it a rest and give it another go after some time, because it's just frustrating me at the moment
Some part has relinquished love
The self resembling highway birds
flying into windshields,
painting blood flowers on glass,
trickling crimson rivers
of feathered warmth.
Some part has forsaken illusion
The fragile creature that is slain daily,
a fraction of its nature
marred in every breath,
Life sliced by painted glass,
broken in a dying frame.
Some part has given up hope, yes.
The rest gives dreams to wings,
but has not lived yet.
The bird rolls over and sleeps
on its plush red carpet.
And yet to die would be
a peace to end all wars.
In this scarlet bed
I lavish dreams upon,
the beginning of the end
cannot be traced.
haha, hardly.
I might share there, once I am happy with it, or done with it.
PS. I miss you!!
And I won't make the same mistakes
(Because I know)
Because I know how much time that wastes
(And function)
Function is the key