total noob. feedback appreciated.

[Jaked]

[scar]

sticks and stones were kinder
the scar, constant reminder
beneath the skin
iron sharp pin
my languid sin

cold time turned alabaster
the scar, that was our laughter
hot blood love
wounded dove
fists flight above

graceful finger traces
the scar, with hope embraces
stories untold
broke hearts hold
fire forged gold


jake

[hillwalker]

cold time turned alabaster is a good line and probably deserves to be in better surroundings.

You seem to have given more thought to rhyme than meaning.

the scar, that was our laughter
hot blood love
wounded dove
fists flight above

Most of this makes no sense in the context of the poem - which is presumably describing scars and how reminders of damage are more painful than the action that caused those scars in the first place.

Similarly, the last 2 lines of v.1 and last 3 of v.3 come across as meaningless (but they do rhyme).

I would suggest that you forget about rhyme completely - it's just a distraction that's leading your talents astray. Stick with one or two potent images that will convey what you want to write about and concentrate on putting them into words.

Poetry isn't just about finding words that rhyme and twisting sentences so they fit - it's the opposite; expressing yourself clearly in as few words as possible.

A valiant start but I can tell from this that you're capable of more intriguing stuff.

H

[Jaked]

Thanks for the candid feedback, Hillwalker! I appreciate it!

In retrospect, I agree about the rhyming: a bit silly. But it was an experiment, so yay for failure.

Hmmm, I'm more concerned, however, that it seems I failed to convey my message. In addition to focusing too much on rhyming, perhaps I also focused too much on minimalism and stripped too much out. Or maybe context would help.

The piece wasn't intended to be about "scars and how reminders of damage are more painful than the action that caused those scars in the first place". Actually, somewhat the opposite.

This was written about a friend who was struggling through a long, dark season of the soul. Her life was marred by fresh wounds and old scars. In the midst of these current hurts, I was trying to convey that scars from past traumas (be they emotional, physical, psychological) define us, shape us, and make us into the people we have (or will) become. While many people look with regret at terrible, scarring events (especially when they're happening), without them we undoubtedly would not be who we are. I have learned more from past failures than from past successes. These scars can therefore be marks of beauty, if we allow them to teach us. My friend thought these wounds and scars made her ugly; broken somehow. I was trying to say I thought they added to her beauty.

Some thoughts on your specific critiques:

The second block is about the wounds of broken relationships: "the scar, that was our laughter" refers to a once vibrant and joyous relationship that is now broken, but long since healed over.

Similarly, what was once "hot blood love," became a wounded dove. As the symbol of peace, I liked the notion of a "wounded" dove within the context of a broken relationship. "Fists flight above" was meant to convey a sense of flight/escape (of the dove), violence (fists flight), and a shaking of one's fists at the sky in frustration/exasperation/hopelessness/questioning the meaning of it all.

You are right about the last two lines of the first block. Those are particularly obtuse. I was trying to convey a double meaning. First, the sense of past sins being a dreamy, lethargy-inducing drug ("iron sharp pin" being the needle that delivered it) that can be used to avoid (escape from) confronting present hurts and/or realities. Second, how many use drugs (both legal and illegal) as a way to dull the pains (scars) of life rather than embracing and learning from them. Admittedly, perhaps, that's a stretch and should be reworked. But it did rhyme. :)

Finally, the last block was meant to convey hope: that with time, as Grace runs her finger across my scars, and asks, "What is that story?" I can respond not from a place of hurt, brokenness or (spiritual/emotional/psychological) poverty (a "broke heart"), but from a place of wealth because the "gold" within has been purified and shaped by the fires of life's forge. I know the gold bit is a tired analogy, perhaps, but still one I like. Particularly in the midst of trying times. Call me sappy (I've been called worse) - I deserve it at times. :)

Thanks again for your feedback!

May all our scars tell rich stories,

jake

[Jerrybaldy]

As I read this I thought ' Hill is not going to like it' and there he was. Forced rhyming is his hobby horse but he is also a most respected poet and critic on here and along with a few others, the person you want to hear from when you post yourself to public view. My first posting rhymed and I have returned to rhyming a few times, there are equal critics of free verse. Anyway what I wanted to say was welcome and keep at it, I enjoyed reading.