Do You Understand this Poem?

[Markpyro]

Its my first draft, I came up with it last night. Its my prerequisite to an all-correct iambic pentameter poem, but I need to make sure it's first understandable, or at least some meaning can be derived.


Their wings in grey clad grace soar over these green eyed faces with sharpened gaze and thought,
A silent whisper passes, a look of wonder at unvaried splendor remiss,
Their humble unknowing smile, we watch from below and in my silence weep aloud
For of the sweat I brush off glistened brow, they know not, and fail to see their blessed state

Their talents received, waste on less deserving minds, for they see no toil or struggle
Yet praised they are for works achieved, yet I still stand so far below unconscious wings,
And not an honor to call my own, though my bones cry out in weary state and still,
I push through grasping hands, to see a glimpse of sky, as my passion still drives me on

Neither hour nor tear makes difference, and yet I stand here with wide eyes wetted,
And watch their grey clad grace from rocky footing, with each step I see their faulty smile,
A landmark on a hilltop as I slide down, down again, no victory for my
Feeble thoughts and clumsy mind, of which not even words can do them needed justice

As I am not a bird with grey clad grace, who soars above the rest in bold wonder
Knowing all except why, truly, the people are so small, who stumble on the ground


C&C Welcome, it's my first try at poetry.


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[IrishDutchman]

I'm terribly sorry, but I don't. :concern: Don't take that as a bad thing though, I'm useless at poetry. If I could understand it, it would have been too simple.:P

[Monty]

Do you want critique as far as the structure goes? My knowledge of verse structure is shaky at best, but with twenty syllables in a line, you're (most likely) looking at either ten feet or longer feet, so I don't think it's classified as iambic pentameter. What it is classified as, I'm not so sure.

However, if it is based on two-syllable long feet, which it feels like, then the pattern sounds something like: (bold = stressed, | designates the break in feet)

Their wings | in grey | clad grace | soar o - | ver these | green eyed | face - s | with sharp - | ened gaze | and thought,
A si - | lent whis - | per pass - | es, a | look of | won - der | at un - | var - ied | splen - dor | re - miss,
Their hum - | ble un - | know - ing | smile, we | watch from | be - low | and in | my si - | lence weep | a - loud
For of | the sweat | I brush | off glis - | tened brow, | they know | not, and | fail to | see their | blessed state

Their tal - | ents re - | ceived, waste | on less | de - serv - | ing minds, | for they | see no | toil or | strug - gle
Yet praised | they are | for works | a - chieved, | yet I | still stand | so far | be - low | un - con - | scious wings,
And not | an hon - | or to | call my | own, though | my bones | cry out | in wea - | ry state | and still,
I push | through grasp - | ing hands, | to see | a glimpse | of sky, | as my | pas - sion | still drives | me on

Nei - ther | hou - r | nor tear | makes dif - | fer - ence, | and yet | I stand | here with | wide eyes | wet - ted,
And watch | their grey | clad grace | from rock - | y foot - | ing, with | each step | I see | their fault - | y smile,
A land - | mark on | a hill - | top as | I slide | down, down | a - gain, | no vic - | to - ry | for my
Fee - ble | thoughts and | clum - sy | mind, of | which not | e - ven | words can | do them | need - ed | jus - tice
As I | am not | a bird | with grey | clad grace, | who soars | a - bove | the rest | in bold | won - der
Know - ing | all ex - | cept why, | tru - ly, | the peo - | ple are | so small, | who stum - | ble on | the ground

(EDIT: Format's a bit better than it was before...)

Of course, your intended rhythm probably reads much differently, and in some cases it was quite difficult to grasp the rhythm so I've had to force it along, sort of. It shows how difficult it is not only to make the rhythm pattern out as you want it to, but for others to pick up on that rhythm! In some lines the rhythm is very smooth (lines six, and the first halves of lines four and eight) yet others were much harder to construe (line nine, for instance). You could either post this draft with the inflections listed, or write up your next draft and I'll see if I can grasp the rhythm more effectively, because I think it would be quite handy.

Ok, time to get stuck into the meaning! Once more, my interpretation will differ slightly, but I'm slightly more confident on this one. It's interesting that "grey clad grace" is repeated - grey isn't usually identified with gracefulness, so I think that's relating to uniformed people. Students at a well-to-do school or something? 'Twould explain the reverence they are held in by those on the ground, ie: the community. Whilst your life is based on hard work and diligence, they have accolades heaped upon them for their talents. (Although in my experience, students at posh schools tend to be very aware that they're well off, so they're more arrogant than ignorant.)

I enjoyed reading it, and it's especially good for a first draft/first attempt at poetry. Keep it up!

(If you want more detail on anything, just tell me :).)

[Markpyro]

You got my meaning nearly perfect :P. It's actually a group of advanced students at my school. I've been annoyed at them for years because they put no effort into studying, yet get perfect marks and are then commended for the work they hardly did. So they're really intelligent, but they don't work for it.
Grey, meaning, the group of students who I am identifying are uniform (as you said), similar. I categorize them together because they seem to be exactly like each other- bland with few defining personality traits, yet all of them are very intelligent in all forms of academics.

This poem was a start for one that would be in iambic pentameter, but I hastily looked past the definition thinking that there were 10 iams per line rather than syllables. I had to rewrite the thing (as it's a project for my English class), but I'm saving this copy because I'm pleased with it. At least, it's a start.


Thanks for the critique

-MP


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[Magmaniac]

I like it, and yeah its iambic decameter.
Very good for a first attempt at poetry, although I agree with monty in saying that the rhythm is a little off, like its iambic in some parts and trocheic in other parts. I like the symbolism, but it does seem like you had to stretch a little to make it fit the meter, which is unneccesary, you should focus more on making it flow instead of having a syllable for every beat, some beats can have a pause remember.

[Monty]

You got my meaning nearly perfect :P. It's actually a group of advanced students at my school. I've been annoyed at them for years because they put no effort into studying, yet get perfect marks and are then commended for the work they hardly did. So they're really intelligent, but they don't work for it.

I know how you feel mate! Although my situation was slightly different, there were a bunch of hard-working (beyond normal standards, though) bright guys who were so incredibly arrogant that it wasn't funny. Can be a bit infuriating having to deal with those sorts of people, but that's life for you.

Iambic decameter, that's the one, cheers Mag.

But yes, definitely keep it. The good thing about poetry is that there are no time constraints or anything - you write whatever you want, whenever you want to.

[Darkslayer633]

You got my meaning nearly perfect :P. It's actually a group of advanced students at my school. I've been annoyed at them for years because they put no effort into studying, yet get perfect marks and are then commended for the work they hardly did. So they're really intelligent, but they don't work for it.
Grey, meaning, the group of students who I am identifying are uniform (as you said), similar. I categorize them together because they seem to be exactly like each other- bland with few defining personality traits, yet all of them are very intelligent in all forms of academics.

This poem was a start for one that would be in iambic pentameter, but I hastily looked past the definition thinking that there were 10 iams per line rather than syllables. I had to rewrite the thing (as it's a project for my English class), but I'm saving this copy because I'm pleased with it. At least, it's a start.


Thanks for the critique

-MP





wow was I way off, i thought it was either about sex, or being born.


however blank verse = win

[GenocideAlive]

there were a bunch of hard-working (beyond normal standards, though) bright guys who were so incredibly arrogant that it wasn't funny. Can be a bit infuriating having to deal with those sorts of people, but that's life for you.
Yeah, well, if you want to hear the other end of the spectrum, try to imagine a world full of Barneys. Being intelligent usually means that it's very difficult to find fulfillment or intrigue in life--because everything is painfully obvious or predictable at the outset of nearly every encounter. TV shows, movies, conversations, books, people, etc. etc. all tend to be almost borderline formulaic. It's almost like every single form of interaction with the world becomes borderline insane, because everything is made for children.

It almost becomes a life-task to escape the monotony that comprises the day-to-day existance geared towards an alien demographic. To make matters worse, oftentimes these normal people harbor resentment towards intelligent people. There are tons of names to degrade someone based on their above-average intelligence (geek, nerd, etc.)--go figure, right? Let's add social isolation and ostracision to the mix. Arrogance is one means of protecting onesself from emotional hurt based on those names.

But so anyway, I'm obviously going to far with this topic. Fuck those nerds, right guys! Always thinking they're so smart!

In regard to the poem, it's OK but it has problems. For a first attempt at a poem, it's pretty damned good. You avoid the extremely painful mistake of trying to make everything rhyme, you are obviously aware of meter. You make some errors with your meter, but that's not really the end of the world. Your biggest problem lay in inflated verbage, or using cliched terms.

"Glistening", "wings", flight, "blessed", "grace", "works", etc. are all borderline religious connotations giving them angelic properties. Please believe, this has been done to death and easily ruins your poem. Part of creating a poem is the creative process, and the other part is good word choice. Here you are comparing these intelligent people to angels, sorry but Hollywood and the Hallmark / Lifetime channels have pretty much beat you to it by like 20 years.

I suggest you find a better, more creative underlying metaphor, and go from there. Then you can fix your meter and other niggling little problems as appropriate. But as it stands, your poem needs to change direction.

[Monty]

Yeah, well, if you want to hear the other end of the spectrum, try to imagine a world full of Barneys. Being intelligent usually means that it's very difficult to find fulfillment or intrigue in life--because everything is painfully obvious or predictable at the outset of nearly every encounter. TV shows, movies, conversations, books, people, etc. etc. all tend to be almost borderline formulaic. It's almost like every single form of interaction with the world becomes borderline insane, because everything is made for children.

You'll get no argument from me about that. (Cards, baby, cards. You take others' money and use your brain doing it.)

To make matters worse, oftentimes these normal people harbor resentment towards intelligent people. There are tons of names to degrade someone based on their above-average intelligence (geek, nerd, etc.)--go figure, right? Let's add social isolation and ostracision to the mix. Arrogance is one means of protecting onesself from emotional hurt based on those names.

Fortunately, in the context of school life I've experienced much the opposite. The thing is, most people in my community (and that's branching out of school) respect intellectuals, providing that they're not conceited. I can't help wondering why these guys maintain the whole air-of-superiority thing. Sure, it may be necessary when people begin to treat them poorly based on intelligence alone, but when people genuinely accept them for who they are...

Maybe they've experienced a different perception in the past. I don't know. I think the general idea is that people are well aware of the brain drain in NZ - who knows, maybe an intelligent person will stay on if they're respected and not shunned by your Average Joe?

Ah well, onto the poem! "Glistening" - could you explain the religious connotations of it? I'm genuinely curious, and would it apply for "gleaming" too? Cheers.

[bloodbane]

its nice
but i dont like where the breaks are
or what is used
your words alone seem to carry the feeling
are not forming the poem
the poem lacks conection
it has strong points
and weak lines
that is what i dont like of it