(no subject)
Instead of writing a long, 15 pg philosophy final, our proff has decided to allow us to do whatever the heck we want for our last assignment, provided that the time and effort we put into it is equivalent to a 15 pg essay. So, instead of writing the paper like I was originally planning to do, I'm writing a series of existential poems. I plan on writing around 10, each accompanied with its own page length explanation of where I drew influences for that particular poem.
It should turn out alright.
Today, I wrote my first two poems. If you have to the time, I'd like anybody who is available to read them and tell me honestly what they think about them. What I'm concerned about most is whether the meter is consistent to the flow of each poem. The first poem is a sonnet, the second is in free verse. Neither are yet titled.
Poem #1
A child once asked me how I shaped my clay,
If from my soul these hands knew what to make,
If every push and pull from break of day
Was drawn from defined prints already made.
I slowed the spinning of my wheel at once
And looked to see her blue eyes shining clear.
My soul? I cried back to her innocence,
To fact it is to which this clay adheres.
A cup's a cup when from the fire it's wrought,
Before then, who knows what the cup will be?
Until then, essence from my hands are taught
While clay is soft enough to remain free.
She crinkled quick her pink and dappled head,
I'd rather be the humble clay instead.
(now that i've reread it, I think i'm going to change the rhyme on the last two couplets so that they rhyme with the last line of the previous stanza. The last words of the poem will likely finish with the word "be")
Poem #2
The land! The land!
We have destroyed the land!
By whose hand has the land
Been ravaged by the spirit of man?
Damn! Damn!
Gone, all tiny specks of sand
To which our ships could dock, re-land!
Go forward? Who can?
Ran! Ran!
Between sea and sky, stuck, enjambed!
Without land or any master plan
Or any Godly tactician!
My man! My man!
You make this dawn sound so grand!
What now, to do, what now, we're free
and floating in infinity.
(hmmm...maybe i wont do what i said i would with poem number 1....i don't like the fact that they'd both end with an "e" rhyme)
It should turn out alright.
Today, I wrote my first two poems. If you have to the time, I'd like anybody who is available to read them and tell me honestly what they think about them. What I'm concerned about most is whether the meter is consistent to the flow of each poem. The first poem is a sonnet, the second is in free verse. Neither are yet titled.
Poem #1
A child once asked me how I shaped my clay,
If from my soul these hands knew what to make,
If every push and pull from break of day
Was drawn from defined prints already made.
I slowed the spinning of my wheel at once
And looked to see her blue eyes shining clear.
My soul? I cried back to her innocence,
To fact it is to which this clay adheres.
A cup's a cup when from the fire it's wrought,
Before then, who knows what the cup will be?
Until then, essence from my hands are taught
While clay is soft enough to remain free.
She crinkled quick her pink and dappled head,
I'd rather be the humble clay instead.
(now that i've reread it, I think i'm going to change the rhyme on the last two couplets so that they rhyme with the last line of the previous stanza. The last words of the poem will likely finish with the word "be")
Poem #2
The land! The land!
We have destroyed the land!
By whose hand has the land
Been ravaged by the spirit of man?
Damn! Damn!
Gone, all tiny specks of sand
To which our ships could dock, re-land!
Go forward? Who can?
Ran! Ran!
Between sea and sky, stuck, enjambed!
Without land or any master plan
Or any Godly tactician!
My man! My man!
You make this dawn sound so grand!
What now, to do, what now, we're free
and floating in infinity.
(hmmm...maybe i wont do what i said i would with poem number 1....i don't like the fact that they'd both end with an "e" rhyme)