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Friendly Enemy is endorsed by Jake.

Haha Jake...and you don't endorse The Battlefield? That's depressing...especially since you know the story behind it.

You should post one of yours. Like, I am a Soldier. I LOVE that poem! Or The Wolf's Call. I like that one too.

~Britta

I'm having trouble getting into a rhythm in "The Battlefield", and without rhythm it almost gets tedious. (This is why I usually consider rhyming so much easier than free verse  )
I like Friendly Enemy though.

Here is my poem (I'm not a poet. I am not artistic. This took me a total of 5 minutes to write...  . (I'm not "looking" for critiques, but feel free to post them. I don't have any strong feelings one way or another.)


No Title

The children saw,
the enemy clad in gems and gold!
The elders realized,
they must do something bold.

The children knew,
it would all crumble away!
The villagers mourned,
the death of the day.

The children said,
it was about to be renewed!
Their dreams disappeared,
when their identities were misconstrued.

The children heard,
soldiers armed with spears!
Only to realize,
the addition of years.

The children saw,
what they themselves enjoyed.
This was a brutal realization,
they are the ones needed to be destroyed!

The children now know,
the error of their path!
It is too late,
they cannot fix the destructive wrath.

The children now say,
they will stop the crime!
It is too late,
they haven't the time.

The children now hear,
the cries of the sheep!
It is too late,
there is no time to weep.

The children now see,
who they had been.
It is too late,
they now rely upon their kin.

The children do not care what reality dictates.
They can all change their fates.

I really like Friendly Enemy, it's very well written.  

I suppose I'll throw one of mine out there. Just wrote this a minute ago, so if there's spelling errors... My bad.  

Critique is fine with me, I'm always looking for help to get better.


The Book


This book begins just small and undone,
Blank page after page, nothing but empty,
A book to be witnessed by none,
But to you it is an endless possibility.

This book is like yours, yet nothing the same,
Filled with characters, climax, and plot,
The rise to fame, then fall in shame,
This book is one that shall never be forgot.

Telling a story of which is not fiction,
Events that took place, people that are real,
There are no pictures, just the depiction,
Love and heartbreak; sadness you may feel.

This poor Romeo never found his Juliet,
He lived alone to wonder about the one,
The one who got away, or the one that is yet,
Sadly she never came, his patience was done.

He sold all he had to prepare for the ride,
Quit his job, told all his friends goodbye,
Left with nothing but his love and pride,
Without her, he realized he might as well die.

He searched and she was nowhere to be found,
Then the day came where he heard the worst,
"Woman found burned, buried in the ground."
The poor fellow cried, sorrow had immersed.

Her book closed with that final note,
Never knowing of the boy's love,
For her he had a poem he wrote,
He left it, so she could read it from above.

If only he had taken the chance to show,
How much he loved her and always will,
For her he gave it all up, and again he'd go,
He had loved her then, now, and still.

This book is not about what could have been,
The moral of the story is easy to get,
The book of your life is written in pen,
So don't do anything you may regret.

The Battlefield is better when spoken properly instead of read. It's more of a ballad, I guess.

I like No Title, but I agree with Crustpope. The ending is sudden and leaves one wanting.

I also like The Book...but disagree with Crustpope. I think shock can be good sometimes.

Crustpope...What is your poem called? I like it a lot!

~Britta

I was lurking through some files I had saved on my computer, and found an English Assignment from last year.
(we had to write a free-verse poem, minimum of 20 lines.)

Feel free to critique. I don't really care 

The Wanderer
His victory was his defeat.
What was bestowed upon him mattered not.
His expectations had been far from broken.
To many people, he was filled with hope.

Yet the secret to his intelligence was his ignorance.
Had he refused what others had given,
had he taken the time to think,
he may have won.

The snares he layed, filled the room.
Yet he still walks to the center.
His reason to fight, is simply to fight.
He cannot hide in the clouds.

He had gained nothing, by losing everything.
The riddles and games, that he faced
have all but surely won.
His eyes continue to pierce the depths of them.

He shown a path troubled by much,
and boasted the demons of so much more.
He refused all solace,
for he cannot lose.

He will continue the struggle,
for he refuses to want.
He knows the outcome, what it entails
Yet he will continue until the end.

For his victory, was his defeat.

Aghh you're so lucky you got to write free verse in school. 

Last year we had to write Petrarchan and Shakespearean sonnets, along with various other forms of rhyme schemes, all in iambic pentameter. All of which were in-class assignments. 

Anywho.

I like The Wanderer, especially the way you ended it.

So did we . I sucked with iambic pentameter, I just couldn't get the hang of it. We just had one free verse assignment and one "choice" assignment (no haikus or tankas).

All we did last year was write poetry, study "a feminist perspective" (one day she showed us an image of the word "she" with the S 3 times bigger than the h or e. According to her, an acceptable meaning of that "poem" was She is greater than he, but not there is no she without he.), and read books. Boring....

This some of my best
Blue

Blue is the sky
During a cloudless summer day
When the sun’s shining bright

Blue is the ice
Of a glacier far to the south
Where the cold never ends

Blue is the ocean
Stretching away into the distance
As the waves explode up on to the white sand shore

Blue is the night
After the sun goes down
When the first star comes out

Blue is a Neptune
A planet far away
On the edge of the solar system

Blue is the blue jay
Perching on a branch
When snow blankets the land

Blue is the rain
That bombards the land
With all its cold fury

Blue is life
The water that covers the planet
The life giver
What makes up you and me

This is blue

We Shall Speak

As the smoke from the fires
Still clings to the air people walk out
Beaten, bloodied, bruised changed beyond all recognition
Out of the camps they go into the joy of freedom

Though they are free in body their minds will always stay there
They will remember what happened to those who remain there
And they will speak
The Living shall speak for the dead

When their stories are scoffed at and they are put to shame
By people who refuse to see the truth
Bones of the dead shall cry out from the earth
To testify the horrors are true
The Dead shall speak for the living

After those who remember are gone
After the bones of the dead have crumbled to dust
Do we forget what happened?
No WE must carry on and speak out the truth
“For the dead and the living we must bear witness” – Elie Wiesel      

Pol and Josh, I love them. And I know the exact assignments for which you had to write those poems, Josh. Cherie hasn't changed at all! I'm pretty sure I used the same quote from the book, too. haha.

Thanks Matman!

Here's another one of mine...

Do You Trust Me?

The rain is pouring,
Thunder roaring,
Lightning cracking,
Trees snapping;
Do you trust Me?

The sky is boiling,
The clouds roiling,
Day is as night,
You cannot see light;
Do you trust Me?

There seems no end,
Clouds won’t rend,
The storm won’t cease,
Brows begin to crease;
Do you trust Me?

Do you not know,
How I love you so?
Do you really think,
I will let you sink?
Do you trust Me?

Storms always come,
But I hold you from,
Before clouds appear,
And you realize your fear;
So will you trust Me?

I hold you so tight,
As together we fight,
Though Me you can’t feel,
Though I don’t seem real,
Will you trust Me?


~Britta

Quote from: Lawfuldog on June 26, 2009, 09:23:05 PM

Aghh you're so lucky you got to write free verse in school.  

Last year we had to write Petrarchan and Shakespearean sonnets, along with various other forms of rhyme schemes, all in iambic pentameter. All of which were in-class assignments.  

Anywho.

I like The Wanderer, especially the way you ended it.

So did we . I sucked with iambic pentameter, I just couldn't get the hang of it. We just had one free verse assignment and one "choice" assignment (no haikus or tankas).

All we did last year was write poetry, study "a feminist perspective" (one day she showed us an image of the word "she" with the S 3 times bigger than the h or e. According to her, an acceptable meaning of that "poem" was She is greater than he, but not there is no she without he.), and read books. Boring....

Do you think every girl should try feminism at least once?

Quote

[Do you think every girl should try feminism at least once?

No.

Guys, This is a poetry forum so take this discussion to the PM's or start a new thread.  I think it could be a great discussion, it is just out of place here.

Crustpope...What is your poem called? I like it a lot!

I call it Contra Mundum.  It comes from the Latin Phrase "Athanasius Contra Mundum".  Athanasius was a Early Church father who was exiled from the church for his beliefs, but eventually his ideas were accepted and became orthodoxy.  This poem borrows that term but I use it to decribe how Sometimes it seems that God is both for us and against us, but inspite of how we sometimes feel bitter or angry or frustrated with God, my heary and my head can never truly find peace apart from God. SO I am set Contra Mundum because even when I am not at rest with God, I know I can never find rest apart from God.

@ Britta, I really like do you trust me.  IT has some great images in it and is a real simple concept and rhythm to it but a powerful message

@JSB23  Is that second poem by Elie Weisel or just the last line a quote by him.  I really like that poem But I am pretty sure it is by Weisel.  I could be wrong though.

@ Pol.  I Loved "A Dock to Wait On"  I was there by the sea with you as I read that poem.  The Longing and Yearning  yet steadfast devotion is prevelant in every line.  I could taste the salt in the air as I read it.  That, IMHO, is a good way to tell if the poem is good.  If it moves you then it did its job.  Great Work.  

Here is another:

Of Fear

He walked along that day with a grin replacing his face.
His day was going good, he was a happy man.
No worries, no tests, no troubles, no pests ... only smooth riding.
   -And then the presence of the Lord came bearing down upon him-

Just as in ancient days, as the Israelites carried the Ark of the Covenant,
sometimes they were reminded of the fear that should grace their hearts.
On occasion, while walking along in laughter, a smooth catching stone
would fell them, and imminent death of divine magnitude would ride
downward bearing the presence of that Almighty upon them.
In that significant second, when the Holy of Holies met
the Hellion of Hells in fury and righteous rage, they knew the fear of God.
   -in spite of the ignorance their heart had previously entertained-

The Lord came in the form of men;
one in a suit, one in a gown, two by the road and one from out of town.
The latter first, as his Lexus remodeled the Honda Accordingly.
The screech of tires giving way to the grinding crunch of steel,
the Honda owned by the happy man.
Now both sit silent in the path of progress, obscenely broken,
and the Happy man’s eyes close in uncomfortable rest for unknown length...

The Lord moved through the man in the suit.
He gave a lending hand to the man in the Honda According to need.
His need was great.
He lent his hand at a cell-phone for a call of merely three digits.
Nine times the suited man called out for help.
One helped with his skill in revival of the flesh.
One helped in revival of the spirit as he knelt to pray...

The Lord move through the man in the gown.
He held weapons in his hands as he fought
to save the flesh from dying.  He cut, he knitted, he sewed, he patched.
His battlefield was a Happy Honda man.
His enemy was unrelenting and its victory seemed secure,
still, slowly the battle turned to the point
where the adversary’s victory was questionable...

The Red Cross of hope on one side
against the blackness of death on the other.
Whose weapons would win in this battle for more than the flesh,
the stainless steel weapons of medicine,
the expensive scrap metal of a twisted import,
or the prayers of a righteous man
and the deeds of those who walk in the light?...

His day was going good - then he opened his eyes and saw his need,
a precious life spent in guilty passions…all for a good day.
Now had a good day, not by choice but by gift.
As he felt the Lord with fear and trembling.
As holiness began its work, a work to be carried out
in part by the new God-fearer and in part by God,
he was born anew and victory was begun.
   -in spite of the past he had previously entertained-

That day peace replaced his grin,
and on that table, through the many hands of God,
He knew the fear and awe of Immanuel.
   -and the presence of the Lord came to live within him-
               
         
                  S.W.Taylor

I also like this one because it contains a reference to one of Redemptions most popular characters.  A cookie to the first one to get it right!

Samuel?