Lost love

[Huckleberry]

Hi Todd,

 
Very interesting, and to start with, let me just say that I fully agree with you in the most part. You might have noticed that this is a first post. Although I have been doing whatever it is I do for a while, I never posted anything before.
For the reasons you give and because (which you might think but did not say), I would not consider claiming it to be “poetry”. Additionally, not being a native English-speaker, I undoubtedly miss a lot of background which would be of great help; take this as a statement of fact, not an excuse.
I nevertheless got curious at how others would be receiving it: your post is exactly what I was seeking, adding new touches to my line of thinking.
Despite all this, I’ll keep playing with my little words, with neither pretention nor illusion; for no other reason than loving it; it sometimes gets a few things off my chest; posting is questionable inasmuch as the value is nearly all personal; I am not ruling out seeking to achieve what could be deemed as being poetry, but this is a long climb and another story…
Do not even think of getting in a line-by-line critique! I did make sure I was getting in the basic critique to avoid torturing anybody (including myself☺)
Very very much appreciated, thanks a million!

Huckleberry

Hi, Huckleberry

I'm having some real issues with how you're choosing to handle rhyme in the piece. The rhyme scheme seems inconsistent and all over the place, and in many places the rhymes seem forced. I mean that the content appears tacked on to simply and only accommodate the rhyme. Also, you sometimes abandon rhyming entirely. While you have the option to do all of those things, it doesn't add to the effectiveness of the poem in my opinion.

This is the basic forum so I'll leave it at that and forego doing any line-by-line critique. I would suggest looking for a more consistent pattern and also ask yourself if the content holds together on its own or is solely there to make the rhyme happen.

Best,

Todd

Don’t make a noise, don’t break a stick,
A candle without a wick;
Go silently their way along,
Days are so short, nights are so long.
Does it matter when hope is gone
For those willing to be bygone?
Nights are too bright, life is too thick;
There are men who just never sleep.
 
Their tearless eyes looking aghast,
Knight defending the last turret,
Butterflies lost in the desert,
Princes of ephemeral past,
They freeze at the Lilliputian
Miserly sight of the ocean,
Its nights too bright, its life so thick,
There are men who just never sleep.
 
There once was a mighty princess,
An Eldorado, a bright star,
Her orbit turned them to ageless,
A wreck, a nothing, a sandbar,
A light house that in the dark
Dreams of sailing home the lost ark.
Nights are too bright, life is a blight;
There are men just waiting to die.