10-04-2014, 10:31 AM
I built a mountain on a rough foundation
and built a rough foundation in a fog of dissociation
I built it in delusion with certainty in my confusion (You know, none of this makes much sense, and if it did it would need to be less wordy
and built dark labrynths to safely hid the truth in (labyrinths is spelled wrong, line truncation is random)
from bottom to top I built my way to the peak
layer by layer, careful to cover the lies underneath (do you mean "what lies beneath"?)
Behind strong walls I trapped that that I wish not see (that, that? "I wish not to see" is not grammatical, nor is it poetic)
and atop them placed beautiful pastures of artificial green
now finally standing atop my creation
I try to look down in celebration
and only then do I begin to wonder why the ground is shaking.
This is more parable than poem, as it uses few poetic tropes, as it tells and does not show. Some of the rhyming is decent, and every now and again you fall into a nice cadence. Aside from that it seems like a long run-on sentence, with a lot of words that do not convey much.
This is also fairly well covered ground. I believe it is mentioned more succinctly in the Bible Matthew 7:24-27, or in a hymn I'm thinking "My Hope Is Built" is the title but it's been a long time when I heard it last.
"‘On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand.’"
Anyway, the point is this is well trod ground.
You get points for original wording at the start, but disassociating and delusion are two different things, nor do you connect them in any way. Here is difficult decide what each is assigned to.
(I) "built a rough foundation in a fog of dissociation
I built it in delusion with certainty in my confusion"
This disrupts the reading of the poem, as one must pause to figure out what you are trying to say, if anything.
I do like the internal rhyme, and the second line has a cadence while most others do not.
Welcome to the site
Dale
and built a rough foundation in a fog of dissociation
I built it in delusion with certainty in my confusion (You know, none of this makes much sense, and if it did it would need to be less wordy
and built dark labrynths to safely hid the truth in (labyrinths is spelled wrong, line truncation is random)
from bottom to top I built my way to the peak
layer by layer, careful to cover the lies underneath (do you mean "what lies beneath"?)
Behind strong walls I trapped that that I wish not see (that, that? "I wish not to see" is not grammatical, nor is it poetic)
and atop them placed beautiful pastures of artificial green
now finally standing atop my creation
I try to look down in celebration
and only then do I begin to wonder why the ground is shaking.
This is more parable than poem, as it uses few poetic tropes, as it tells and does not show. Some of the rhyming is decent, and every now and again you fall into a nice cadence. Aside from that it seems like a long run-on sentence, with a lot of words that do not convey much.
This is also fairly well covered ground. I believe it is mentioned more succinctly in the Bible Matthew 7:24-27, or in a hymn I'm thinking "My Hope Is Built" is the title but it's been a long time when I heard it last.
"‘On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand.’"
Anyway, the point is this is well trod ground.
You get points for original wording at the start, but disassociating and delusion are two different things, nor do you connect them in any way. Here is difficult decide what each is assigned to.
(I) "built a rough foundation in a fog of dissociation
I built it in delusion with certainty in my confusion"
This disrupts the reading of the poem, as one must pause to figure out what you are trying to say, if anything.
I do like the internal rhyme, and the second line has a cadence while most others do not.
Welcome to the site
Dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.

