Eyes on Final Fantasy Forums > General > Writer's Corner > I Suck At Poetry (Poetry Journal)

[Not At All Reno]

rare for poems to mean much to the receiver if they dont mean much to the author.

best thing to do is write something you're passionate about

[Martyr]

Yeah, no kidding.
And I don't believe in talking about it.
If the meaning in a piece can't be identified by the reader, it doesn't mean that the piece is meaningless. It means that it was poorly written. It's my responsibility to fix that in a rewrite, not to tell you what the poem's about.

Anyway, I'm pissed off at this thread.

I wanted to experiment with different base styles of poetry, but everything I crank out covers too much ground, like a real poem. If I post here again, I'll post something I like.

Thanks for responding to my crappy poem. I probably learned something even though I don't think I did.

[farplaner]

Originally Posted by Martyr ^

Yeah, no kidding.
And I don't believe in talking about it.
If the meaning in a piece can't be identified by the reader, it doesn't mean that the piece is meaningless. It means that it was poorly written. It's my responsibility to fix that in a rewrite, not to tell you what the poem's about.

Anyway, I'm pissed off at this thread.

I wanted to experiment with different base styles of poetry, but everything I crank out covers too much ground, like a real poem. If I post here again, I'll post something I like.

Thanks for responding to my crappy poem. I probably learned something even though I don't think I did.

You should write something about "misdirected hostility."

[Not At All Reno]

he's not angry at anyone here. i think this anger is directed at the writing process, and rightfully so. writing is a little bitch.

[Martyr]

I don't exactly know whether this is garbage, garbage poetry, a sample of incoherence (if you will)-

I pretty much made it up. Tried to locate a style, let it flow, develop, and then I, I dunno, ended up with this.
It seems like pretty cool material for an I Suck at Poetry thread.

Oh, it needs a title. Uh...


Who Cares?

She didn't care
Her hair knotted around her shoulders
Snakes wrapping her feet
Smashed television
Pile of appliances
The bookshelf flipped
The nightstand-

Flipped.

A multicolored floor
Wool. Cotton. Courderoy.
Why not?
It was worth a shot.

That's what he said.
As if it had any relevance!
There's nowhere to go now!

Worth a shot?
She could see him dead in a puddle out beside the lake.
That's where he was. Is. Will be.
She wanted him safe in her heart.
She said that he would be in her heart, always.
But he left.
Started his truck.
A shotgun in the back
Bullets aren't lucky
Not for anybody
Now he's buried below the azaleas