11-14-2014, 10:57 PM
Hi Elz, welcome to PO. I'm going to be a bit critical since you've posted in Mild, I'm sure you are ready for some critique. Your rhythm is very unique. At first I found it rather difficult because I thought you were mistakenly adding a
iamb every other line, but since you carry it throughout the first 4 lines I assumed it was intentional...then the hexameter line disappeared on me...and we went back to pentameter. Bit confusing for the reader who is trying to grasp a rhythm.
I do like your poem, although the content has been done before, you offer some fresh images at least to hold onto.
Comments now only on content:
From my perch, so high, above the painted land {painted land is a tad cliché, think you can get away with it}
I gaze upon, far below, dunes of desert sand
Where the sun shone down in juicy, golden rays
And warmed the belly of the earth for long, forgotten days
Now, wind picks up and thrashes ‘bout the tiny grains
Who, all alone, stand no chance against the drowning rains
Thunder rumbles o’er my fragile, dusted ledge {thunder rumbles is cliché}
And clouds billow ‘cross majestic mountain hedge {clouds billow, majestic mountain, same thing}
Yet, on my perch, all is for a moment quiet
Though endlessly beneath me, nature shivers in a riot {back to hex here to end}
Mother rushes, changing ‘round the old landscapes
At last, I flap my wings and make my great escape.
There is room to work with this. Try to freshen up some of those images, and pick a rhythm and stick to it. You can alternate if you wish, just don't go all wonky.
Hope to read more,
mel.
iamb every other line, but since you carry it throughout the first 4 lines I assumed it was intentional...then the hexameter line disappeared on me...and we went back to pentameter. Bit confusing for the reader who is trying to grasp a rhythm.
I do like your poem, although the content has been done before, you offer some fresh images at least to hold onto.
Comments now only on content:
From my perch, so high, above the painted land {painted land is a tad cliché, think you can get away with it}
I gaze upon, far below, dunes of desert sand
Where the sun shone down in juicy, golden rays
And warmed the belly of the earth for long, forgotten days
Now, wind picks up and thrashes ‘bout the tiny grains
Who, all alone, stand no chance against the drowning rains
Thunder rumbles o’er my fragile, dusted ledge {thunder rumbles is cliché}
And clouds billow ‘cross majestic mountain hedge {clouds billow, majestic mountain, same thing}
Yet, on my perch, all is for a moment quiet
Though endlessly beneath me, nature shivers in a riot {back to hex here to end}
Mother rushes, changing ‘round the old landscapes
At last, I flap my wings and make my great escape.
There is room to work with this. Try to freshen up some of those images, and pick a rhythm and stick to it. You can alternate if you wish, just don't go all wonky.
Hope to read more,
mel.