Poetry / Untitled

Which shows that you didn’t take time to actually read the poem.  Riotphuker, if you didn’t understand it, that’s cool, but please don’t make stuff up just to look like a badass.  And if you didn’t like it, be more specific; i.e. I felt that you could have used more clear, concise language to get your feelings across, etc.  Because this crap doesn’t help.  

Thanks, Jazzcat.  It’s nice to get a review that’s specific.  (And the compliments didn’t hurt either…) And thanks for the encouragement. :)

Badass? Maybe ignorant, uncultured, illiterate, etc, would be more fitting to the website- and! maybe even my comment.

I read it again after I woke up… there are feelings in it. It is just so indirect. A critical analyzation is only dependent on half the poem. And again, as I implied in my last comment, I don’t enjoy it. That doesn’t make me a badass, only critical. And, I’m not going to rewrite your poem to make it fit my liking, I’m not going to tell you what I think you should do to it. I’m just giving you my opinion. Good day!

Schilmyst…  Thank you.  I appreciate the honesty.  I’ll take it all into consideration.  Let me just clarify one thing though, the morbitity was done on purpose.  I don’t need to explain myself, but I think it might help other readers grasp that it was part of the point.  It was written about my first love, the first person to accept me the way I am.  We fought, I lost him.  He’s dead now, and I wrote this maybe a year afterwards.  I felt guilty for a long time, and kept having dreams about him.  When I get morbid feelings, my poetry is my outlet.  Usually I’m trying to convey more than one overly powerful emotion that I cannot put words to.  I was still in love with him, felt raw, and even after a year I just couldn’t seem to move on.  And I wanted to.  
I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, just to clarify things.  I know this was your first review, so it’s not really a big deal – but saying it made you sick was unnecessary.  Impartiality is key to good critiquing.  Honestly, though, it made me sick to my stomach, too, considering the way things happened.  And I’m kind of glad you said that, because that means my poem made you feel something.  Other than that… you made some good suggestions and I’ll mull over them for awhile, rest assured.

Cripplingllama, thank you, too.  I’m pleased you paid that much attention to it.  I think maybe you’re right about the cliche.  I vividly remember writing it, and my pen was literally flying across the page.  I didn’t get stuck with this one, like I usually do when writing poetry.  And I absolutely agree with you about those two words cluttering up that part of the poem.  It does sound alot better without them.  About the imagery, though…  the key line in the entire poem is the ebb and flow of the pain.  I meant to portray that in the two conflicting tones in this poem.  And it was war memories (alot better than saying ‘bad memories’ or ‘memories so vivid I experienced every emotion over and over again’)- not just war.  Why say it that way?  Have you ever seen a veteran who has seen action?  They have this look in their eyes…  sometimes the memories are so real they almost think they’re there again.  That’s how I felt.  There was no better way to describe it.  
That was an astute observation about how it falls apart in the end.  That, too, was on purpose.  I fell apart in the end.  I wanted anyone who read that to feel like they were falling apart at that point, too.  It succeeded.  Look at my last review.  
Let me just tie this up by saying that I hold my poetry to far different standards than any other writing I do.  I’m alot more lax on structure and punctuation in favor of emotion and art.  Not so with any other genre or style of writing I do.  To me, as long as it makes you feel something – even disgust and especially discomfort – it’s good.

Really quick – I left this out – schilmyst was right about the word relived; in all my revisions I was too lazy to break out the thesaurus and find that perfect word.  And I think I should add a line or two (of the weaker variety) to separate the haunting from the honeysuckle.  But I can’t get rid of it.  It’s literally what I taste in those dreams.  Also the belonging thing.  I need to think of a better way to say that and yet try to keep it as powerful as it was.  Oh, okay, I’ll admit it.  Little miss ‘remain impartial’ over here felt a little threatened.  Sorry Schilmyst.  

Oof: re-reading what I wrote, my language sounded much harsher than I intended, and so I owe you an apology.
I’m sorry.
It goes without saying that your writing is beautiful, and that I really did enjoy reading.
In regards to your comparison, I feel way out of line. I just was trying to express, in a particularly uncommunicative way, that it’s a very unique and forceful idea, a relationship between two very different kinds of tragedies that yet can have similar feelings; in the poem it’s said almost in passing, but it’s an analogy that can really hit home, with a little contemplation…
I’ll try and take a leaf out of Cripplingllama’s book and make it more clear that everything is completely, and unassumingly, in my own very humble opinion: what I say will probably be unreasonably harsh, so you’re entirely welcome to, and indeed I would even applaud you if you said, “this kid is full of sh*t. screw him, he has no idea what I’m trying to convey.”
I did mean what I wrote, on the few ideas that I felt would make the poem even stronger, but a simple opinion is all I’m offering, nothing more. I’m impressed with the way that you handle unreasonably arrogant-sounding criticism, especially because it was the first review on this poem…once again, I apologize. Honestly. And I appreciate your maturity; it’s rational people like you that make this world a healthier, more interesting place to be.
Blast. I need more tact. I’ll work on that.
Well, thanks for the advice and undeservedly kind words, good luck, and keep on emoting. You can trust the rest of us will keep on appreciating.