requiem for the shattered soul

[thescholar]

alright guys, I am an amateur (and i mean AMATEUR) poet, what could only be referred to as a "wannabe." All I ask is for some review, but please not to harsh, being as it was a leap of faith just posting.




I lay, prostrate, crumbling on the spot.
these gashes cry for equality, say,
why do they not come to me to seal these holes in me
i feel my self pouring on scarred earth.
O god! let me be free, of this merciless agony
the stuff of my life shimmers, sanguine,
somewhere, a door opens, elsewhere, one closes,
and life goes on.
and still I lay, pleading, on earth incarnadine.
Droplets burn wet trails on the faces of those compassionate.

[B-Mental]

I like this JJ...is there more to it, or does it end there? I would like to think there is more to it.

[thescholar]

there is... but i'm not sure how to end it... the ending is still in progress but I figured i would at least see if it was worth finishing. Thank you for your review!

[B-Mental]

I would definitely like to read more of it.

[thescholar]

by the way, was my use of the word "incarnadine" correct? I was unsure of its proper use...

[thescholar]

I lay, prostrate, crumbling on the spot.
these gashes cry for equality, say,
why do they not come to me to seal these holes in me
i feel my self pouring on scarred earth.
O god! let me be free, of this merciless agony
the stuff of my life shimmers, sanguine,
somewhere, a door opens, elsewhere, one closes,
and life goes on.
and still I lay, pleading, on earth incarnadine.
Droplets burn wet trails on the faces of those compassionate.

ok here is the tentative ending...

my essence smeared 'cross seasoned land,
my soul steams from these holes.
Thunder! how it roars all about,
as pathetic a fallacy as ever before
red cross on white body,
wanders about, to pick the shards of life unjustly expended.

[B-Mental]

I like the ending a lot, and yes I do believe that incarnadine is used correctly.

[symphony]

hey u cant be a wannabe! :eek: i'm THE wannabe in the block! :p

a nice poem up there, and it has one of my most favorite words ("incarnadine") in it :D ... but isnt "incarnadine" a verb so shouldnt it be "on earth incarnadined"?
anyway, i liked that last line a lot, Jihad. the closing stanza's powerful.

[B-Mental]

it can be used as an adjective or a verb symphony

[symphony]

oh i see.
i was introduced to this word while reading a translated version of one of Rilke's poetries, where it was used as a verb, so i guess the word was programmed that way in my head. :D

[crazefest456]

What lack were you talking about Joe(in the "town crier" thingy)?
I really liked your poem, and I definitely agree with Symph and B-Mental about the last stanza-- it being very dramatic, and with beautiful descriptions:
"my soul steams from these holes".
I never responded before because I felt like I couldn't give you my best critique (being an amateur in writing, after all)...
It really doesn't look like you're an amateur in this stuff-- keep it up!

[PrinceMyshkin]

by the way, was my use of the word "incarnadine" correct? I was unsure of its proper use...

Yes, your use of it is correct as far as the meaning goes but even before you raised this queston I was going to write in praise of this poem as a whole but wanted to make the point that "incarnadine" is too fancy, too ostentatiously literary for the rest of the poem, where you use lanuage forcefully but unpretentiously.

[blazeofglory]

alright guys, I am an amateur (and i mean AMATEUR) poet, what could only be referred to as a "wannabe." All I ask is for some review, but please not to harsh, being as it was a leap of faith just posting.




I lay, prostrate, crumbling on the spot.
these gashes cry for equality, say,
why do they not come to me to seal these holes in me
i feel my self pouring on scarred earth.
O god! let me be free, of this merciless agony
the stuff of my life shimmers, sanguine,
somewhere, a door opens, elsewhere, one closes,
and life goes on.


and still I lay, pleading, on earth incarnadine.
Droplets burn wet trails on the faces of those compassionate.
Of course life has go on despite everything, and it can not stop going.

Really beautiful poem! I am bewitched.

[thescholar]

wow guys... thanks for all the input! I didn't expect so much praise for my first poem on Litnet... Stay tuned for future pieces!

[thechampion]

it doesn't say anything at all

[thechampion]

plus its also too hysterical and expresses too much self-pity.

[B-Mental]

yes well thanks for your two bits...

[thechampion]

i like you in a kind of way bmental. your like kinda opposed to me but its gentle. i mean only that a poem can make sense and it really helps most if they do, and this one doesn't. i understand it fully if we're looking at the abstract implied message here, and the whole message is why does the world have to be this way its so hard why do i have to deal with this, which is a lot of self-pity.

[B-Mental]

I think you might need to take on the aspect of the author for this one to be a little more powerful. I don't really sense any self pity in it. The world you live in is not the same as the author...you and I can only imagine what the authors life is like...this poem is a form of expression, and if you can't wrap your chopsticks around that noodle, then you just keep on trying.

[thechampion]

i am giving him his only constructive feedback. every other person tells him he's great, that he can do no wrong, how does he improve? the poem is perfect, the whole thing is powerful, blah blah. how does that help him? inflated egoes and poetry don't go together

[B-Mental]

wow, you are the only one to be of any help...what was your constructive feedback again....please quote it so I can find it faster...you did give feedback, but constructive? As for inflated egos....well objects in the mirror are actually closer than they appear.

[thescholar]

TheChampion, thank you for your...input, I'm sorry you didn't like my work. B-Mental, I appreciate your defending of my piece, thank you.

[thechampion]

its not bad. all i said is its too hysterical and expresses too much self-pity. that is constructive. have you ever been in a real poetry circle or anything? if its any good one not only made up of friends who will only pat each other on the back, thats very very mild. i have recieved, "that was horse****, you're an idiot" and three other people agreed.

[B-Mental]

yeah, the circle thing means you share your creation and let others slice and dice as you slice and dice tc...

[kiz_paws]

I lay, prostrate, crumbling on the spot.
these gashes cry for equality, say,
why do they not come to me to seal these holes in me
i feel my self pouring on scarred earth.
O god! let me be free, of this merciless agony
the stuff of my life shimmers, sanguine,
somewhere, a door opens, elsewhere, one closes,
and life goes on.
and still I lay, pleading, on earth incarnadine.
Droplets burn wet trails on the faces of those compassionate.

ok here is the tentative ending...

my essence smeared 'cross seasoned land,
my soul steams from these holes.
Thunder! how it roars all about,
as pathetic a fallacy as ever before
red cross on white body,
wanders about, to pick the shards of life unjustly expended.
Wow, definitely a powerful poem, I feel the raw hopelessness. Your title was beautiful, too, I might add (titles are difficult sometimes). All in all, a good read. :thumbs_up