Quote:
Originally Posted by Creed
I use to hate my heart breaks
But broken hearts love strong.
I took my love of pain
And i put it in a song.
I was looking for a father
I was crying out for help
Now I'm having my first daughter
I found a father in myself.
Its ironic in a sense
That innocence is bliss
My tortured soul is growing old
But my consciousness resists.
In the eye of time
I am hidden by the dark
Like candles burning dimly
We're strong enough to make a spark.
I use to hide my smile
Now I yearn for laughter
It always seem to go
Nothings appreciated till after.
I find it kinda funny
I kinda find it sad
The dreams in which I wished for things
Are things I've always had.
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Ok. Did you just watch Donnie Darko lol?
I didnt like your wording in the opening sentence. I guess this is a poem, more or less. Feels very much like Mad World, by Gary Jules, which works so well as a somber and reflective poem because of its hesitant progression and slow, washing repitition. He uses short lines and abrupt phrasing to create a disjointed and dreamlike trance, that when laid over a memory mirrors the discord of a schizophreniac in transitory remission of sanity.
Seems to me like you took this sort of poetic device and applied it to a moment of relevation- one where you have come to terms with yourself, your faults, and your incongruities, much like Donnie does at the end of his film through death.
Now, this air of finality that you get from Donnie Darko- and perhaps why the song carries so much meaning, is that the morbid state of existential anachronism that Donnie finds himself in has change to a moment of bliss, but this moment of bliss is really absurd- an extrapolation of the absurd that Donnie feels in his everyday life- and yes, even his dreams- that is justified only by the finality of his death.
Here, in this poem, you seem to paint two paths- one where you are are accepting you for what you are, and one where you are still coming to terms with the absurdity of growing old.
Your narrator's resistance to change, desire to remain young, mirrors this- for while you cannot remain young, you can experience and foster it vicariously in your child.
The part I separated in the middle, I felt didnt really work in the context of your poem. It breaks the washing effect I mentioned earlier as well as the static progression of poem. Basically upsets the mood.
Perhaps what could have helped this middle section immensely is more punctuation and succinctness. Most of your poem has elegant, short wording, but here it feels run-on and out of place.
So, where I can see your poetic talent- both in using a device and in wording- I feel like this piece fell short as a whole. The ending line does frame the whole piece nicely, but that middle section is too much of a non-sequitur for me.
Keep keyin m8, please feed drops when you get the chance