The World, The Homeless Man, and Me

[Adolescent09]

One shade away from multitudinous shades of green
the daphodils awaken flitty bows in march gatherings
and dispel their aesthetics on dew drenched crests
of many balmy stones.

One walk of life two rocks apart
dance bereft of emotion
so turgid, so life-like, so angry,
smarting of a finger, egregious, smelly yet shy

I cry at blue-green wanderers; the tawdry
toting men with rainbow talismen
seeking me for lack of peace a better word
is alms, they crawl so tepidly

towards fate.

[cafolini]

The writing is very good in meaning and it is well-written. But you have a tendency to write with too many adjectives that take away from it.

[Buh4Bee]

One shade away from multitudinous shades of green
the daphodils awaken flitty bows in march gatherings
and dispel their aesthetics on dew drenched crests
of many balmy stones.

One walk of life two rocks apart
dance bereft of emotion
so turgid, so life-like, so angry,
smarting of a finger, egregious, smelly yet shy

I cry at blue-green wanderers; the tawdry
toting men with rainbow talismen
seeking me for lack of peace a better word
is alms, they crawl so tepidly

towards fate.

You have some nice alliteration, which always makes for a smooth flow:

dispel their aesthetics on dew drenched crests
of many balmy stones.

I think the first stanza is the strongest:

One shade away from multitudinous shades of green
the daphodils awaken flitty bows in march gatherings
and dispel their aesthetics on dew drenched crests
of many balmy stones.

The last two stanzas lack the clarity of the first stanza. I think Cafolini is correct that it gets too wordy at times:

so turgid, so life-like, so angry,
smarting of a finger, egregious, smelly yet shy

Some striking visuals. Enjoyed.

[Adolescent09]

Thanks for the feedback folks. I haven't written any poetry in quite a while so I might have to find my muse/voice again. My many enlightened critics have told me that I tend to be a bit too prosy and pretentious. I should definitely try to infuse my poems with meaning through clarity and straightforwardness instead of looking for the most attractive 50$ word. From now on I am going to use this thread to post my poems and see if I can work towards simplifying my writing. For now let me add this poem and let's see if it is clearer to understand.

Count our Fortune in Dimes
Adolescent09

How much am I in debt to chance
to be right here at closing time
the register is simply atmosphere; no cash
but he insists upon the latter

Am I to reach in my pockets and hand
over my change or allow fate to enshroud my heart
in lead? His finger tickles the trigger as
sweat trickles my temple while I never knew twenty seconds
to be a frozen strand of time

Yet lo! there is a marking on his knuckle
which is the same as mine
that tells a tale of two boys
whose fates were intertwined

This time I said "Do I know y...
and before the question was set in place
fate pardoned me the umpteenth time
and he gave me a full embrace

Whose to say...
...that we count our fortune in dimes?

[Buh4Bee]

This is a really wild poem. It's better than the first one. It is definitely more clear and has a great rhythm.

[Jack of Hearts]

If you really are going to keep posting here, this is gonna be a thread to watch.






J

[Adolescent09]

Thank-you for the input Buh4Bee and thanks for stopping by Jack of Hearts.

This next poem is based on one of my favorite essays in Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace in the 751st page of the Barnes and Noble Constance Garnett version of the book in which Tolstoy correlates the incremental branch of mathematics (notably integrals and limits in Calculus) with the Napoleonic onslaught in Russia.

Untitled
Adolescent09

A saga like a parable told through Russian eyes
tells of a tortoise and his goal (both were in disguise)
It took the Greek man at a pace
but he led by one stride past its place
like that crazy brazen man who would not stop invading
even though will and luck, luck and will were fading,
in the heart of ice land was laid his might
he would not stop day or night
‘twas the race between the tortoise and Achilles
he always stays and never leaves
yet fate is a door that is always knocked
like a timepiece that ticks and always tocks
the tortoise will see his mistake
and this time he cannot fake
defeat.

Please bear with me folks. I know it's not all that good so I would greatly appreciate constructive criticism.

[Adolescent09]

The difference between the way I wrote back then and now is
Adolescent09

Sir-
Come-
Low-
Cute-
Ton.