04-03-2015, 11:51 AM
i did see your reply where you stated that you wrote it for fun. if that's the case put it in the for fun forum in the three main feedback forums we expect any poem to be done to your best ability, (and we're fine if that ability has yet to be garnered)
unruly syntax does not make for funny poetry okay it looks funny, i'll give you that; but it detracts too much from the poem to be anything other than awkward. as usual i will state they're always exceptions; this is not one of they. in general, back to front english in modern poetry is a no no of arguably the highest order. cliche being another you only have a few of those.
there is good in the poem. sort the reversed text out and change a couple of phrases and you'll have the major edit out of the way; we all edit our poetry [except the very good, or the very bad poets]
you tried to use iambic pentameter and that's admirable. but it has to feel unforced.
Oh Apples! apples, how they make me cry.
it feels like you wrote a series of rhymes out then filled in the lines. it has to seem natural. i'd like to see you work on this if just to get the feel of the editing side of poetry.
unruly syntax does not make for funny poetry okay it looks funny, i'll give you that; but it detracts too much from the poem to be anything other than awkward. as usual i will state they're always exceptions; this is not one of they. in general, back to front english in modern poetry is a no no of arguably the highest order. cliche being another you only have a few of those.
there is good in the poem. sort the reversed text out and change a couple of phrases and you'll have the major edit out of the way; we all edit our poetry [except the very good, or the very bad poets]
you tried to use iambic pentameter and that's admirable. but it has to feel unforced.
Oh Apples! apples, how they make me cry.
it feels like you wrote a series of rhymes out then filled in the lines. it has to seem natural. i'd like to see you work on this if just to get the feel of the editing side of poetry.
(04-02-2015, 01:44 AM)Hitler Wrote: Apples, apples, oh how they make me cry.
When I taste their sweet flesh, I thirst to die.
Their deep scarlet hue fills me with sorrow;
I hope to see no apples tomorrow.
I carry a torch, but no need for sight,
against apples, I continue my fight.
From eating of apples, to smoldering trees,
I carry my flame through the winter breeze.
As I find now out, my war is in vain
"Too many trees!" I succumb to my pain.
If I cannot slay them, then I must go.
Now I say goodbye to all of my woe.
When the ripened apple falls from the tree,
I see it plunging off this cliff with me.
As down down I go, to the rocky shore,
Thank God I will think of apples no more.