|
Menu
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
Tinker Toys
Contributed by
PoeticRequiem
on
Saturday, 17th April 2004 @ 01:01:03 PM in AEST
Topic:
StoryPoetry
|
Building block civilizations
residual semblance of peurile society
sandbox playgrounds wih wooden borders
imperceptible boundaries unabridged
Lego dynasties
cardboard cutouts on an empty stage
stoic caricatures of rhapsody
standing tall in the breath of a world
plastic models in toy lands
By Jeremiah D. Normich
(The Wordsmith )
Copyright ©
PoeticRequiem
... [
2004-04-17 13:01:03] (Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
Re: Tinker Toys
(User Rating: 1 ) by EternitysLyre on
Saturday, 17th April 2004 @ 03:54:46 PM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Okay. To start off with, your imagery is vivid and definitely pretty. Your lines have gained rhythm to an extent to make the line breaks (more often denoted by rhythm breaks than the actual " "), but after reading your stuff for a little more than two months now, I have a bit of a request to make of you.
STOP CALLING YOURSELF THE WORDSMITH.
That's a blatant flare of arrogance, and I am yet to see what you would like to call yourself (albeit in parentheses) in your work. If you claim to be of such an order in the ranks of prose, I'm willing to imagine and agree with what might be the higher end of sentence structure and lyrical terminology. But what differs a poem from an essay is that, in most cases, it rhymes regularly.
You shouldn't jump the gun to call yourself the wordsmith before you can hammer out your words--
In this one poem especially, "stoic caricatures of rhapsody" doesn't have the ring that sweetens it, but rather brings a frown upon the brow.
You also gave up on "Residual resemblance," therefore implying but ignoring wordplay opportunities. The unabridged boundaries we can't see escapes me altogether, but you get the benefit of the doubt--it sounds okay.
Your last two lines....please.
Just stop it. I love your imagery, I love your word choice (as you haven't picked up on the "big word competition" that other more reputed poets have), but you're still a whiles off from declaring yourself a wordsmith.
The wordsmith, if by its two component syllables alone, implies the firey heat of inspiration, the iron anvil of consistency, and the hammer of perfection. A wordsmith should be one who takes his work--be it the swift blade of satire or the crude cudgel of impudence--and refines it into razor-sharp poignance. A blacksmith (much less a wordsmith, who is of greater leisure AND effort) never presents work he is not satisfied with to his customers, and often times inspects his handiwork for flaws or repair. A wordsmith is one who hobbles away in the shadows, tempering his work by hand and in the red glow of inspiration perspire to to craft something magnificent. I see neither perspiration nor temperment. In any other circumstance, I allot this to the lack of both care and desire to construct something of higher degree, and allow clubs to be clubs, and wasted words of steel and gold to be the same as they always shall. But you here have made over and over a claim to perfectionism, and you must live up to it to recieve the title. Being a wordsmith does not begin with callign yourself one, it begins with another recognizing your trademark abilities. Go and read Shakespeare; that is the work of a wordsmith. Go and study Yeats; in his work the anvil of consistency (and poetic form) bears no better example. Go and read Vitreous _Soul and Neptunes_First; the quick hand of inspiration meets no better presentation under their words. Move away from your glowing pedestal of fulsome compliment and comforting anonymity; the black and white of darkness will hide the richness from your vision, but it shall awaken--only then--your eyes to the colors that no light source can provide.
Yours truly,
~Acrostic Cacohpany
(The wordslayer) |
|
|
Re: Tinker Toys
(User Rating: 1 ) by PoeticRequiem on
Monday, 19th April 2004 @ 08:03:54 AM AEST (User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
I appreciate your input eternities lyre however I am a self proclaimed wordsmith, I do have credentials to back up my bold statement being the recipient of many awards and honors in my craft however this is not the case in point. I wanted to point out that the word cacophony you utilized in your response does very well in describing your words, a chaotic rambling of a befudled mind now I never professed to be or will ever profess to be a perfectionist, I don't believe perfectionism belongs in art, once you cross into the technical province from an artistic realm it ceases to become art and a more robotic mechanical entity of life. Which is certainly not art. So I neither care about nor even reference rhyme or meter in any sort of aspect that would interfere with my art. I use the term wordsmith as one who fashions word from inspiration nothing more; Perfectionism is a waste of time, why try to acheive the unattainable, it would be like trying for death on the end of a candle. Essentially a stupid situation, or believing in something that doesen't exist.-
but your request has been denied.
Thank you for your time
PoeticRequiem
( The Wordsmith ) |
|
|
|