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A Quick Poem
Feedback greatly appreciated!
I eased through the gates, Peter’s back turned away. The foyer, gold, with inlaid diamonds. A guise of what lies ahead. The chapel is blessed in eternal fire, Holy water stained blood red. Face of beautiful angels, Worn, wrinkled, and grey. Bone yards piled high, Body upon body. Nooses tight around our necks, Finally within God’s grasp. |
I'm not quite sure what this is about... do you know what this is about? It's written nicely, it's poetic (what is "poetic" even? Is it anything? I struggle with that myself. It comes down to I think, 'it's subjective'), certainly. The imagery is beautiful. Though, I'm not sure what it means, or if it means anything. But it sounds nice.
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Yes it has a meaning.
I wrote it about heaven, and the constant question that I always ask myself, "is it worth it to get to heaven?" I don't want to get into a huge religious rant because I could go on for much too long, but this poem represents what heaven would be like as a dissapointment, as if the world was fooled. |
There's beauty in subtlety, and this really doesn't grasp it. I mean, if you're really going for death metal lyrics, it's good but otherwise the imagery is slightly overbearing.
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they're not really lyrics at all.. it's a poem
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It's just an expression I think. Poem/lyrics... what your feedback is still stands. It's a good piece, but it's not perfect. Though nothing is, and it's not expected to be.
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It's a kind of Postmodern verse:)
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Robert Frost once said "Writing free verse is like playing tennis with the net down." now While this isn't exactly free verse, it certainly seems like you had the net down whilst writing this...what you have written is acceptable and the thoughts you provoke come across, but then again so can a bus timetable but i don't look to bus timetables for a look into the soul of a bus. I read poetry for a look into the soul of the writer. Try expressing yourself to the point where you can quite honestly not express yourself any further, play with images and thoughts and allow them to merge effortlessly, in whatever order they come to you, and then put that tennis net up and start trying to hit the base line with every word,sentence and stanza....The idea is formed in this poem, it just hasn't been developed.
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Very artistic, almost abstract... I like it though. I think... Either I like it or it offends me.
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