Fire Quenched | thought I'd share a poem I wrote

Fire Quenched

All energy drains from the world
Even the sun cannot stand to stay for long
It cannot stand to see the bleak lifelessness
And moves quickly on to more pleasant scenes
All the energy drains from me
I don't want to eat, move or speak
So I lie still and watch the sky
The sky so drained of life and color
The heavy dark leaden sky
That is so drained all it can do is weep
Weep so bitterly and coldly that the tears fall as sharp crystals of ice
Weep so long and harsh that everything is buried
I lie here unmoving and unmoved
As the sharp bitter crystals fill and bury me
And weep silently.....

Now this is something I like. Those of you who have read mine can see that.

Thank you Glacialis! I liked yours too. I also dont write poetry very often, but i was quite proud of this one

yeah, i never knew you wrote poetry!

Cool poem...
i just finished a poetry assignment for english so i'll put that up. If you want any suggestions on this one I have a few...but i don't want to give any unwanted critisism.

<BLINK>WHOAH....</BLINK>

Apoc
sure i would like to hear your ideas.
like i said i dont write very often.
i think cuz i always hated english class so much. I love literature, but hate all the other shit.

Cool, ok here goes...
PUNCTUATION!!! and deliberately place your line breaks in strategic places.
Is this supposed to mean anything? or is it kinda like a metaphor for nothing...(like it sounds good but doesn't mean anything) If you are going for an image, don't use too many obscure references, or they will confuse the reader. It definitely sounds cool, but I dunno what an english teacher would say about it... Poems mean much more if they convey a feeling, leaving the reader thinking, 'whoah...' after they read it. It doesn't have to be about anything exciting like 'fire quenched'. i mean c'mon i wrote about taking my dog to the frickin lake, but it sounds like a big deal... I dunno what you were trying to do when you wrote this, so all I can do is guess.
--apoc


Fire Quenched

All energy drains from the world
Even the sun cannot stand to stay for long
It cannot stand to see the bleak lifelessness
And moves quickly on to more pleasant scenes
All the energy drains from me
I don't want to eat, move or speak
So I lie still and watch the sky
The sky so drained of life and color
The heavy dark leaden sky
That is so drained all it can do is weep
Weep so bitterly and coldly that the tears fall as sharp crystals of ice
Weep so long and harsh that everything is buried
I lie here unmoving and unmoved
As the sharp bitter crystals fill and bury me
And weep silently.....

yeah as i said before, it doesn't make any sense if you look at the literal images... A poem is more powerful if you use literal images, and then use cool metaphors or similies to describe them. There obviously aren't sharp bitter crystals filling and burying you... so what does it mean???

--apoc again

Apoc
Just wanted u to know that i read your response....there is a meaning to it and i didnt think about it when i posted it here but... i am Fire....FireRose is my other identity....thats why FireQuenched. I am going to go now and think through what u said....besides, im beat and im not thinking clearly at the moment. I will be back to explain it more....all i can say now is that the ppl that know me knew exactly what i was getting at. And that i wrote it for me...not an english teacher.  

I'm never been a fan of 'rules of art'. I think art should be wild and free, without any guidelines to limit it's creation or interpretation. If it has an idea and an inspiration behind it, it's good enough for me. This used to be a point of conflict between me and my finnish teacher.

My visual arts teacher was like me on this matter. He evaluated the way we expressed ourselves compared to the explanation we gave of our own work, and gave us pointers on how to imbue more of our emotions and thoughts to our work.

When I get an inspiration, I lose all contact to reality. I'm in a trance, and my fingers dance on the keys, or dance the pen on the paper. It just flows out, and takes an amorphic form, ready to shape itself to the mind of the experiencer.

cool, yeah i hear ya