Poetry is not autobiography, but art; not intention, but invention; not confession, but creation.
I am always free to chat/discuss anything I left in a comment. Feel free to invite me into a chatroom, or IM me.
I am always free to chat/discuss anything I left in a comment. Feel free to invite me into a chatroom, or IM me.
- Last seen on Sep 4 10:43 PM. Member since August 11, 2005.
- Visit my homepage at storywrite.com/Nocturne
- I have 166 comments, 1 archived poem
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The two swords of Peter hung / beside the golden lamp / and I wondered at the significance of blades / and bibles and blood / / that seepe
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I'm guessing this is a personal piece and not up for a critique. Known someone like this? Perhaps. The betrayals I've seen have been the quiet ones, those that consist of me simply disappearing from someone's life, as if I never existed. People I've known changing themselves into strangers, lying with just enough truth to really sink the barb deep.
Cheers for the read,
Nocturne. Rewarded 8


This poem varies on this count, but having read it aloud several times, the lack doesn't cripple it at all.
I think the choice for the first line was a good one. "My soul craves warmth that's long been denied" is a lovely opening - abstract enough to pull the reader in "What is this warmth?" and "How has it been denied?" and universal enough to have the reader nodding along.
I've been shot down for this suggestion before - mainly with the argument that poetry shouldn't be like a newspaper or a factoid (Not what I suggest at all!) - but I can't help but wonder if this poem would be even stronger with a more concrete focus on specific images.
I felt that while the emotions were very powerful, I almost wish I could "see" what you're talking about better. Certainly you the structure of the poem to the advantage of the lines and the form limits what's possible. However, what I feel I lack is context. For example, "whispering a truth no man can ignore." - at this point, I'm at a loss. I am thrown out a tidbit - some truth - but there is no follow-up. It's much like an ambiguous statement hanging, glowing in midair.
Certainly one shouldn't want the poem to "tell" the reader everything. That would be boring. But, sometimes, as a reader, I don't really wish to recreate my own world - I want to experience something new. Maybe the poem could be a little more open in letting the reader in on what's going on. Usually a concrete context helps a reader relate to the story/situation of a poem, and imagine him/herself in said situation.
I'm going to leave off now, but I'm glad I had a chance to read this piece; it was a pleasure. I hope you decide what you will be doing with this piece and whether it remains a villanelle or evolves into something more and different.
Good luck with this poem,
Nocturne