VeeshanVault

Some context: I've met a girl! She's a wholesome smart Christian girl who's a cross training health nut with a Master's degree. I know what you're thinking, "Don't you usually go for the dumb sluts?" You're right, I do! Man I love me some dumb sluts. BUT, I've actually settled down quite a bit. My last escapade really grinded my gears to a screeching halt. I had to re-evaluate my preferences and re-organize my priorities. And this girl fits the mold pretty well. But she's playing hard to get. She has some baggage that I can't pretend to understand (namely that she came out of a 5 year relationship 4 months ago) and that is holding her back quite a bit. Did I mention she drives a motorcycle? She does! She also likes and writes poetry. Our first date went great and I thought "Hey, I might actually have a real girlfriend for the first time in like forever" but then she suddenly cut me off harshly. I didn't understand and I was finally able to coax the information about why (see: baggage). Realizing that I needed to slow waaaaaaay the fuck down (not easy for a guy who loves dumb sluts), I gave her a lot more room and now I'm in the process of courting her very slowly. The pace is, shall I say, different than what I'm used to. I've never had to work this hard for a 2nd date after the first one went so well, and I'd say the odds right now are 50/50 there will even be a 2nd date. No, 60/40. No dammit, I'm getting me a 2nd date! I can tell she likes me a lot and I scored huge points today. I must say I'm having quite a bit of fun with this whole thing. But I digress...

Because she loves poetry, I've written a couple of poems in the last week or so. The first one I already gave her and although she hasn't said it yet, I think she liked it. It is written from her future perspective looking back on the past, the present, and the future in each respective verse. The second poem is self explanatory but I won't be giving it to her just yet (need to gather a few more inches). Let me know what you think.

ONLY BY THE SUN

For years a compass guided me by night and day,
And for years it never failed or led me astray,
But then came a time when its pieces broke,
And I could no longer trust the words it spoke,
So I left it and went about my way.

That time it seemed I was always on the run,
And so it happened that I found another one,
But good or bad, for it I had no need
So I tossed it aside and wished it Godspeed,
Deciding to be guided only by the sun.

But often now, after the sun has set,
And I need that tool that's much too hard to get,
I think back on the good one I had tossed,
And since then, all the guidance lost,
Now serving another. What shame! What regret!

INCH BY INCH

She gave him an inch,
He gave her a mile,
She gave him an inch,
He gave her a mile,
After a while,
She'd given him a mile,
After a while,
She'd given him a smile,
After a smile,
She was worth his while,
After a while,
She was worth his smile.

Don't quit your day job.

just kidding.. i like the one about the compass.

good luck with the girl. I'm dealing with one who has some baggage as well, though I've broken through a good deal of it and spend most nights at her apartment now.

Yeah..um....the form of the first one is all over the place. Are you going for dyslexic autistic iambic pentameter? The poem's form makes zero sense within the context of its point.

The second one, apart from the annoying repetition of mile, at least has a duality thing going on, her/me, inch/mile. Again, 12 lines? what's the point? Why not make it a sonnet?

Again, the metre is all over the place. Repeating the first 2 lines in the 3 and 4th line is a total no no.

Have you ever actually studied poetry at all? I'm not being a dick, they are cute enough if you want to make a little rhyming love note to a girl, but it doesn't really click, as poetry, at this point.

As for whether I'm in a position to speak, I may as well put one of my own up, for ridicule perhaps. But just so you don't feel quite so vulnerable in the critique. (It still needs a lot of work done it ofc)

Whitehead at sunrise

Whitehead train station.
With tracks running down by the sea,
Is a great old place
To just think about what’s been done -
But my heads a storm,
On a lonely Sunday morning;

I think of the thoughts, exploring,
She ran out of luck.
The girl you thought was the one.
A wave comes in straight -
Look over Bangor and just sit
Like a crustacean.

A capsized nation.
She always said she would be free,
But lies can’t relate
To a love as great as the sun,
Sit here thinking “fuck,”
A man drowning in his mourning.

I think these thoughts, alarming.
Cheating girl’s cheap suck,
Her wet night on the town so fun -
Stripping down her bait
And turning our two into three.
What a sensation

For him. Replacing
Me. As she gets down on her knee.
Her “sorry’s “too late,
Drags her hand and shoots off his gun,
I don’t give a fuck.
To me the day is just dawning.

As I think these thoughts im yawning,
I stare into muck,
I realise now she was no fun,
Realised it too late,
The waves coming in from the sea,
By the train station.

i guess you're shakespeare incarnate? i'm super impressed with your technical knowledge on poem structure. LOL

seriously, who the hell gets pedantic over poetry?



no one will ever take you seriously, nick.. on any topic. sorry

edit: just read your poem

Sit here thinking “fuck,”

WHAT??? are you serious?? ARE YOU SERIOUS?


you may be drawing within the traditional lines just like you've been told but you better have some fuckin content to back it up, scholar.

True art has no rules.

I'm glad I could impress you Cadalano, since you are of course an expert on everything by default and the lack of substance in all of your posts in no way undermines your presumed authority on everything you decide to be an expert on on any given day.

I can safely say I don't give a flying shit whether you like anything I write or not. This post is merely something to do while gormlessly eating a pizza before i go get a dvd out. Anyway, I put it up there, so I expect criticism. thats cool critic. thats cool.

clearly you don't care what i think, you only edited your response to me about a thousand times before declaring it. although i guess if you had a habit of practicing restraint before you posted stupid shit we wouldn't hear much from you

Arguing over the internet in a poetry thread. i don't think either of us can lay claim to the high ground here Cad Why not post some of yours, if you have any?

I would have figured that Xyun would with something like:
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Obama rox
And so do you

i don't write poetry and i'm not arguing about poetry. simply pointing out that its asinine to criticize another person's creations in this (or any) art form purely on technicalities. as fair said, true art has no rules and, in fact, often purposefully opposes tradition. something that everyone should understand, let alone a prolific muse like yourself who has spent (wasted?) time studying it.

you just posted here to show everyone what an expert you are on the subject. thats great and if you hadn't been such a dick about it there would be no problem. However, you assumed that being abusively critical would impress us (because how can you be wrong if you are SO violent?! you and funk are not so different). Instead, you just came out as a spiteful cunt- per usual.. and a clueless one, in this case.

Irony and hypocrisy in equal measure.

Anyway, you've continuously displayed exactly the sort of spiteful big-headed ignorance towards me that you're trying to police against in this thread, policeman, on this forum, towards me, for years. Why break the habit of a lifetime? Hypocritical imbecile.

Here's some poems I wrote in 7th grade to a girl I liked in 8th grade and slipped them into her locker. Laugh your way through them!

I

You I see each day,
Longing for a word to say.
Magic is your glance,
Ever keeping me in a trance.

Lights of stars envy your eyes,
Like this poem, a surprise.
Never sloppy in your dress,
Adore you, I must confess.

Time has past since we first met,
But in my heart I shall never forget.
It's a joy to hear you talk,
More a joy to watch you walk.

When I look, appears a queen,
Yet I, visible, am still unseen.
Together we have stood,
Only to talk, I wish I could.

One year between us I do dread,
Still affection, I show instead.
One year wiser you may be,
But your beauty I still see.

Dignified you truely are,
Passing other ladies by so far.
Being second to none,
To me you are number one.

Now my poem has come to end,
Some time with you I hope to spend.
Many words yet I to tell,
But for now, I bid farewell.


II

Her eyes shine of the midnight moon,
Her voice sounds of a lovely tune.
She walks as walks a graceful queen,
In many dreams she can be seen.

Her hair, fresh as the morning dew,
So clean and soft, so very new.
Adored is she by unknown friend,
His very best poems, he will send.

Deep in thought, I produce this verse,
For losing you means to me the worst.
Seeing you, I'm in a dream world,
Thinking of you makes my mind all twirled.

You make it good to be alive,
With your presence, my heart does thrive.
Alone with you I wish to talk,
Maybe together, we may walk.

Another poem you may receive,
For you I can not deceive.

-----

Ah, the mind of a 12 year old!

It's a joy to hear you talk,
More a joy to watch you walk.

perv alert!

Being second to none,
To me you are number one.

I must have been pressed for time on that line!

Probably the only decent part of the poems that gets my point across:

When I look, appears a queen,
Yet I, visible, am still unseen.
Together we have stood,
Only to talk, I wish I could.

One year between us I do dread,
Still affection, I show instead.
One year wiser you may be,
But your beauty I still see.

Now my poem has come to end,
Some time with you I hope to spend.
Many words yet I to tell,
But for now, I bid farewell.

Flame away! I was only 12 though! So what would you do if you received poems like that in 8th grade? Call the police?

Those are awesome Winnow Quite beautiful

I know I can't really say something like, "I hate Nick," because I never really post, but in not saying that (haha) I liked the poem he wrote. It's almost Yeats-like, but maybe I just automatically associate the Irish sense. I also sort of agree with his criticism, only because if this girl Xyun is seeing is *really* into poetry or writing then she'll probably notice some of the lack of form as well.
That said, my own input on the first poem would be - slow down! You said she wants things slow (beware the rebound woman!) and you're already telling her in a poem that she will regret and feel shame if she doesn't give you a chance (last stanza). I'm assuming here that you are the "tool" (ouch!) and maybe I'm reading too much into it, but you said she was a Christian so I'm gonna go there; using the words "sun" could cause an association in her mind with the Son. If you follow me. So she can pick at the end of your poem between the "sun" or a "tool." Sorry to go there man but it came to my little womanly mind pretty quick-like.
Good luck though, I do wish you the best - and you too Nick, even if you're a big dickhead! ;p

Funny I just got on to post about a trip I'm taking and ask some advice and I ended up rambling here! read my soon-to-exist thread if you're anyone in New York! thanks!

Nick I'm not to concerned with knowing or following technical rules of poetry, which is not to say that I don't know them or of them. My concern is mainly how well the poem flows as you read it. I dislike the 2nd poem enough that I'm scraping it for now.

Thanks for your criticism redeemed. You are right in that I wanted to capture the sense of a missed opportunity in the poem and that it was a bit forward. She was prepared for that aspect and to be honest I'm more than satisfied with her reaction. Things are going boringly slow, but they are going.