It may happen to us as this,
that we might begin to understand our lives,
not as following , as what we did,
but only as is written, on some invisible wall, of destiny.
No more substance to our lives,
not the kind we make so much about,
of our homes, our loved ones,
only a writing on the wall, the one no one can see.
Why this game, this illusion, you may ask,
whom for. What of the pain, the blood,
the grief that is so real, of loved ones
when they are no more, around.
This is what I think, that yes
pain is real. It's like our fingers touch reality.
But only that is real, nothing else
is happening, our breath, our lives, nothing at all.
Who awakes, to every fresh day,
Stretches in the morning light.
Who fends his life, through work, with friends,
who even sits and contemplates?
Who dreams big dreams, of life,
and wealth, abundance of joy and family.
Who applies himself to worldly knowledge,
that he may one day be recognized?
It seems this way to me,
There is little substance in what these we believe to be.
Each day happens, there isn't anyone to see,
Can it be, any other way at all.
What kind of feedback are you looking for in this poem? What is the assignment?
This isn't an assignment. Just your comments would be greatly appreciated.
Is it OK if I continue to post what I write? I have always felt inspired by this site and would really hate to have to go.
I can't understand your gist in this poem.Is it just an improvisation or something?
Hello Kevin/Sean/Rosamond and others...
Same as with the earlier piece " some thoughts - an essay ".
Appreciated your comments.
Would love to hear what you have to say to this one.
Understanding may come to us like this:
We might begin to understand our lives,
Not as what we followed or what we did,
but only as is written, on some invisible wall of destiny.
This (above) is something that may or may not help. It is what came to mind for me based on my imperfect understanding.
Who dreams big dreams -- of life,
of wealth, of abundant joy and family.
These are just some ideas that may not beright for the poem, but I'll share them anyway.
This is thought provoking! I guess I think it should end with a question mark (i.e. ...at all?)
If pain is real, then happiness can also be real because happiness is making pain alive. If there was no happiness then there wouldn't be any pain. Happiness makes us feel pain, and pain makes us feel happiness...
That's to say, if life was an illusion then only reality would be death... Which we would go in a real life after it.
:) I think so :)
But I *love* it, very successful that you can express your feelings so clear and beautiful ...
This seems to be mainly a free verse poem. This makes it very difficult to critique in any meaningful way. If you were attempting to work in a particular meter, or a set rhyme scheme, or to develop a theme using specific poetic devices, such as anaphora, chiasmus, consonance, assonance, alliteration, etc., then I could tell you whether or not your use of these techniques was effective. As it is, you have some decent imagery, a few rhetorical questions, a couple of metaphors, which are all appropriate for this sort of poem. If you want to make it more truly poetic, I'd revise for meter. A lot of what you have written is iambic, either reflecting a deliberate metrical choice on your part or else a natural sense of rhythm. From the construction of the poem, I'm guessing the latter. Since you have a poem that consists of mostly unrhymed iambs anyway, perhaps you could rewrite it as blank verse. That wouldn't require too much effort, and might yield significant improvement.
Thank you Sean. That was much more than I had expected to hear.
You're right, I have no formal learning in writing poetry and any rhythm is almost incidental. Almost an effort to squeeze more of what I was only feeling within. I felt satisfied though, in the way it worked.
You all are very interesting people, and I am truely happy to know you ! I have learnt much on this site and am quite indebted for that.