02-20-2017, 11:12 PM
(02-20-2017, 10:44 PM)Caleb Murdock Wrote: Bird on a Bough
Dear, save your words until the day. What day? I assume you mean that it's nighttime, but feels a bit odd to me.
Now, let only the door
speak its uneven memories; Obviously the idea of watching-walls is well known, but doors not so much, so it doesn't really evoke the same ideas. And why are they uneven? Perhaps with the idea of two people staying in at night you could try something about keeping the door closed, metaphorically works better, I think.
just hold me, as before.
The truth and its prerogative
to hear its perfect sound
may yet be stayed; and if, in this
delay, reprieve is found, To me stanza too soon heads into the hills, free from concrete imagery. Stanza 1 intros two people in bed and so forth, but then this stanza seems barely connected, carried only by the meter. I assume the speaker is requesting, still, for the other person to stay so they can avoid reality, but it's not the best wording.
other wayward hearts await
for truth to tear asunder. If this is the poem's volta it needs more direction.
Words, they kill, they desecrate, Do they? Examples please.
they confiscate our wonder;
but when has man been true, or even
once desist to blunder from, not 'to', surely. Even so, the phrase seems a little awkward.
from his reckless gait? Hush now,
a bird sings from the bough. Where is the bough? Give us some context please.
Tonight, his song will be our shepherd,
if we can so allow. This line is pointless fluff which only serves the structure.
It speaks nothing and asks nothing,
so hold me, hold me now. So in conclusion, this poem is 'forget about everything else, be quiet and don't think; we're gonna bang' ? That is the sort of message that you would often find in the fashion of poetry that you are aping, so fair enough.
Overall I think you need to put your meter to one side whilst your redraft; it is leading you down a slightly muddy path in places.