Writing Workshop #2

  • silvershoes
    13 years ago

    It's time for a new workshop!
    Jessie has volunteered one of her poems for analysis. Please add your comments, be they compliments or constructive criticism or explanations for how the poem affected you. Respond in any way you see fit.
    Questions are good too, but respect the author and their wishes to edit the poem (or not), and answer questions (or not).

    Becoming an Angel
    by Jessie

    I'm not sure what to make of here,
    My eyes are open and my thoughts are cold
    I see what I know,
    It's foggy
    Unfamiliar

    I'm trying to recall what happened last,
    Not much is coming to my mind,
    Why can't I remember
    It's blurry,
    Unsettling

    Wander further, this is my house
    but it's not my home
    family photos gone
    shadows cast
    Unrecognizable

    Remembering lights, a scream
    why can't I recollect more
    I want to understand
    It may help
    Unamused

    I'm seeing people I know,
    talking, trying to get attention
    screaming, crying
    just listen
    Unanswered

    Squealing of tires, its coming back
    the smell of rubber, feel of glass
    I remember now,
    I'm dead
    Unbelievable

    Running farther, faster, flying
    tear stricken reflection
    in the mirror
    non-existent
    Unfair

    Allow everlasting peace to form
    breathe new air, serenity
    acceptance is key
    It's my time
    Unleashed

    Soaring through the skies, fog gone
    family's mourning, but time heals
    I know they'll be O.K
    so will I
    Unafraid

  • abracadabra
    13 years ago

    I think this author is young and basically needs to read more poetry.

    I admire her efforts here, I admire any such efforts at personal expression.

    But this is a teen horror movie, a little Goosebumps novella. The structure here was clear...and it was very obvious. The plot was hazy and then predictable. There was some tentative alliteration. Nice title.

    I encourage this author to keep nurturing that imagination, then do a writing exercise where she finds something real and ordinary and makes it seem new and interesting.

  • silvershoes
    13 years ago

    Hey, I actually like the poem. The word choices aren't that original but the style and story is cool. I like the "un" words used at the end of each stanza. The layout of the poem is pretty and the story's unfolding surprised me which is great.

    Be careful of your its and it's.

    "Squealing of tires, its coming back"
    ^ should be it's

    Also, the capitalizing at the beginning of lines seems a bit random.

  • abracadabra
    13 years ago

    I wrote a story like this when I was 11. I think I was inspired by another book I read at that age. I'm not even criticising the word choice- the plainest words can make the brightest poems. Poetry is about how to place the words.

    The repeating structure over the whole nine stanzas wasn't exactly strained, it was just like- why did you do it that way? Because you can? I saw no point to what effect it served. It didn't cumulate to anything significant to its form.

    This writer has definite potential. There is emotion, imagination, there is content development, there is some extraction of detail. Quite a good grasp at grammar, relative to much of this site. I just think she might be new to poetry, or its analysis, or its reading and practice.

    Keep at it!

  • silvershoes
    13 years ago

    Jessie would also like this poem critiqued -

    Sleep Now

    How do I deal in a world of confusion,
    with tears and hate and mind pollution.
    With no ideas on finding a solution,
    how can I live when there is no improvement?

    How can I live when my mind is racing,
    when my thoughts are cruel and my eyes are crazy,
    when my fears are real and my home is waiting,
    How can I fly when I don't know my placing.

    How can I fly with this weight on my back,
    when I'm shouting and crying, about to crack,
    when confinement skills is my greatest lack,
    but how can I sleep when I know they'll be back.

    How can I sleep when when I'm scared of dreaming
    when I shake and sweat and wake up screaming,
    When the evil eyes I see look at me gleaming,
    how do I deal in a world that's deceiving.