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2007-03-09 Annie: The rhyme in this line is a little overboard. "Only inspires this tragedy to grow more and more; unhappy." 2007-03-15 aVorbiss: Ah, thanks for the analysis! I'll make those changes, and actually this poem is much less vague than my others, at least that's what I think. 2007-03-16 Mister Saint: It seems like a decent poem, but yeah... that rhyme scheme kills it. "Chaos" and "convey; us" just doesn't work at all, especially since the grammar of 'us who have spoken' is either incorrect or really sounds that way. 2007-03-18 aVorbiss: Thanks for the input, but I like doing forced rhyme every now and then.[aVorbiss]: 642.Poetry.I Do Not Dare
Rating: 0.00 Uploaded by: Created: 2007-03-15 21:28:38Previous:Keywords: Genre:AngstStyle:poetryHow can my body hide what spills everywhere?
How may I convince your heart of love, or mayhaps, at least, care.
This secret with no one may I share,
For my youthful pride in jeopardy put, I do not dare.
Every attempt of mine to keep this to me,
Only inspires this tragedy to grow more and more like fruit of the poisonous tree.
My mind, thrown in the calamity of emotional chaos,
Cannot further torment myself in such a way.
And so, since I cannot reveal what is my dismay,
I must do what is in my power, the only way to convey; us
Who have not spoken of the affair, I do not dare.
Yet, giving all my attention to solutions,
The one yet to think has been this:
A matter of which so many have been unaware.
It has been a sin to think of such a resolution,
Yet the same result would occur with a kiss
from those lips so tender, I do not dare.
How can I forget what was never said
When everyday it burdens me? Truly the living dead.
How should I aim my eyes not to thee,
When every shining ray from you blinds unholy me.
So, darling, in my everlasting eternal delirium without glee
I pray for some unseen resort in which to rest my head.
I long to shatter this illusion, but I do not dare.
When I finally lay here, bare,
Whom of the weeping would have truly cared?
For if all things in love were sane,
And we were not victims of heart's bane,
Then mayhaps this all would have faired
Well.
Instead of bleeding outwardly,
It all internally seeps and I cowardly
Lie to myself, to the love
I've let down. All of my pain flows inwardly,
I swell and swell, since the moment I fell,
And of this can I no one tell, I do not dare.
Instead of joyous reverie and delight, I am cast from Love's mercy and thrown into fright.
Instead of my heart taking noble flight,
All of my hope is but a dim light.
All I can see in ever-darkness is trite.
All I can hear is the infinite screams
All whispering my most precious dreams.
Everything I feel is not as it seems,
The scent of you lingers like a stream
In the air of absolute nothing.
Only one can happiness bring,
But for me her heart does not sing,
She does not dare.
And so I am forever cursed,
In a misery poetically versed.
Nice use of caps in this line on Love ("Instead of joyous reverie and delight, I am cast from Love's mercy and thrown into fright."), a personificatio
I'll admit the "mine" in "mine body" on the first line doesn't work for me. Too archaic or something. There's no other old english in the poem so I guess it just felt out of place to me.
In general, it's a very nice poem. I can see there's a lot more in it than I'm just going to get from one reading. ;) That's a good thing! I'd have to read it multiple times to start understanding it better. The "she" is never named, but it works in the poem, which often is not the case.
Poetry should flow, I think. When things seem really obvious - like the rhyme scheme and some of the diction (mine body) - it hurts that flow. It makes the reader think "This writer went way out of hir way to make that fit".