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'Poverty' poem idea for Lit coursework - feedback? Watch

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    Tiny baby's feet stumble on the
    crooked, icy cobbles.
    The pure, white porcelain soles are cracked,
    fresh blood is frozen as it hits the ground,

    brushed away by Nature, the
    harsh and binding mother, who replaced another's
    sweet embrace with a scolding whip of fire.

    Winter's hateful tears cut the cocoon like
    shards of glass,
    a hood of tattered cloth hides the face,
    pale blue, like the
    steadfast walls of a mother's long-prepared sanctuary,
    or the blaring screen which hisses,
    and shows you where the time bomb
    ticks away,
    nibbling at the insides like locusts in a corn-field.

    A window, stain-glass, throws the lamb into a
    blinding, burning glare of light.

    Beyond the barrier, a dozen vulgar masks sneer,
    cackles scratch the silent air,
    and jagged fangs rip and tear at treasures
    which make the boy's chapped and tender mouth water.

    Molten fury melts the glacier covering his heart.
    His fists, numb, hurl themselves at the window,
    a starving beast, put out in the cold and scowled upon
    by wielders of the knotted whip.

    They turn their piercing eyes and cast the lamb
    into the spotlight,
    bloody morsels still hanging, flaccid, from their painted, pampered lips.

    The boy recoils, wounded, the glass unscathed,
    and scampers once again under the night's empty veil,
    the wolves' glint branding his hunched and bony spine like hot iron.
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    Like a mob of tired fat people
    deprived of the high-calorie snack foods
    which sustain them, OP's vapid imagery
    marches lethargically across my screen,
    masquerading
    as poetry.

    Through the inclusion of commas
    and enjambment OP aims to
    give the impression of poetic language,
    blossoming through the undergrowth,
    but actually their poem merely meanders
    aimlessly, like when Daredevil lost his radar
    in Daredevil #174.

    Drowning the narrative of their poem in florid metaphors
    of questionable relevance, OP's poem does not read like a poem about poverty at all,
    or about anything,
    really.
    The exam board, however, will lap at it like dumb
    thirsty dogs,
    presented with a bowl
    of petrol.

    TL;DR: has potential and your gift for imagery will get the examiner on your side but you're way overdoing it.
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    (Original post by JCC-MGS)
    Like a mob of tired fat people
    deprived of the high-calorie snack foods
    which sustain them, OP's vapid imagery
    marches lethargically across my screen,
    masquerading
    as poetry.

    Through the inclusion of commas
    and enjambment OP aims to
    give the impression of poetic language,
    blossoming through the undergrowth,
    but actually their poem merely meanders
    aimlessly, like when Daredevil lost his radar
    in Daredevil #174.

    Drowning the narrative of their poem in florid metaphors
    of questionable relevance, OP's poem does not read like a poem about poverty at all,
    or about anything,
    really.
    The exam board, however, will lap at it like dumb
    thirsty dogs,
    presented with a bowl
    of petrol.

    TL;DR: has potential and your gift for imagery will get the examiner on your side but you're way overdoing it.
    Okay. Thanks, I guess. But tell me, you seem to be suggesting that my thread's pretentious, no? Okay, fair enough, but by wasting your time writing a long, unwitty poem in response, aren't you equally as 'vapid' and 'lethargic'. I 'meander' do I? As opposed to your striving piece of 'poetry'?

    Thanks for the feedback. Not hypocritical of you at all.
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    (Original post by JCC-MGS)
    Like a mob of tired fat people
    deprived of the high-calorie snack foods
    which sustain them, OP's vapid imagery
    marches lethargically across my screen,
    masquerading
    as poetry.

    Through the inclusion of commas
    and enjambment OP aims to
    give the impression of poetic language,
    blossoming through the undergrowth,
    but actually their poem merely meanders
    aimlessly, like when Daredevil lost his radar
    in Daredevil #174.

    Drowning the narrative of their poem in florid metaphors
    of questionable relevance, OP's poem does not read like a poem about poverty at all,
    or about anything,
    really.
    The exam board, however, will lap at it like dumb
    thirsty dogs,
    presented with a bowl
    of petrol.

    TL;DR: has potential and your gift for imagery will get the examiner on your side but you're way overdoing it.
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    Examiners will get excited, but from a non-academic view the figurative language is quite aimless and has missed the point of the poem
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    (Original post by AtomicMan)
    Examiners will get excited, but from a non-academic view the figurative language is quite aimless and has missed the point of the poem
    Right. Could you tell me what the point of this poem is then, please?
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    (Original post by JoPat94)
    Tiny baby's feet stumble on the
    crooked, icy cobbles.
    The pure, white porcelain soles are cracked,
    fresh blood is frozen as it hits the ground,

    brushed away by Nature, the
    harsh and binding mother, who replaced another's
    sweet embrace with a scolding whip of fire.

    Winter's hateful tears cut the cocoon like
    shards of glass,
    a hood of tattered cloth hides the face,
    pale blue, like the
    steadfast walls of a mother's long-prepared sanctuary,
    or the blaring screen which hisses,
    and shows you where the time bomb
    ticks away,
    nibbling at the insides like locusts in a corn-field.

    A window, stain-glass, throws the lamb into a
    blinding, burning glare of light.

    Beyond the barrier, a dozen vulgar masks sneer,
    cackles scratch the silent air,
    and jagged fangs rip and tear at treasures
    which make the boy's chapped and tender mouth water.

    Molten fury melts the glacier covering his heart.
    His fists, numb, hurl themselves at the window,
    a starving beast, put out in the cold and scowled upon
    by wielders of the knotted whip.

    They turn their piercing eyes and cast the lamb
    into the spotlight,
    bloody morsels still hanging, flaccid, from their painted, pampered lips.

    The boy recoils, wounded, the glass unscathed,
    and scampers once again under the night's empty veil,
    the wolves' glint branding his hunched and bony spine like hot iron.
    It's really good...and each verse has lots of emotion inside.

    But make sure it flows together like a story, because I can hear bits and pieces of the story in my head but it doesn't join together. Maybe rearrange it slightly.



    ooooh and the bolded bit......maybe use another word istead of beast....because in the poem you made the ones in poverty the vulnerable "lamb" "boy".....so maybe find another word.....maybe one showing his invisibilty to the rich....like "shadow".

    I got a bit confused as to who was who....so my interpretation of it might be wrong....but I hope the advice helps.
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    (Original post by JoPat94)
    Right. Could you tell me what the point of this poem is then, please?
    I think what he means is that you're using lots of words that are impressive and the examiners will love it because it will tick boxes.
    But if it wasn't written for the sake of passing a grade it would sound different.
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    (Original post by JCC-MGS)

    Drowning the narrative of their poem in florid metaphors
    of questionable relevance, OP's poem does not read like a poem about poverty at all,
    or about anything,
    really.
    The exam board, however, will lap at it like dumb
    thirsty dogs,
    presented with a bowl
    of petrol.

    TL;DR: has potential and your gift for imagery will get the examiner on your side but you're way overdoing it.

    Unfortunately, JCC is right. The poem will score highly against criteria since the imagery is very strong in itself.

    The problem arises because there's wayyyyy too much of it. Each line could be expanded on and be a poem in itself, if you develop the imagery. Right now, reading that poem is like being presented with lots and lots of food, but only getting to nibble a little of each.

    In that case it's a bit superficial. I agree with the other posters about the metaphors/imagery clouding the overall meaning. Though the title should help the reader understand, it doesn't really. (Not to mention that 'Poverty', is a pretty boring title). The reader can't grasp onto it because there's nothing that relates to the reader; nothing grounded in real life.

    My advice is to see if you can cut out adjectives & adverbs and make it bare. Some of the lines like "molten fury" are just clichéd and reduce the effect when you have good lines (last line is very good, IMO, though see if you like it better with another "hot" so it becomes "hot, hot iron"). Cut, cut, cut. <-- the golden rule to be honest.

    Secondly, though it's admirable that you've decided to tackle "poverty" as a topic, try to focus on something perhaps less ambitious? Come up with a better title. And do away with "Nature", due to two reasons: capitalising it is cliché and cringe-worthy, also because you capitalise to emphasise something tangible. The concept of nature isn't tangible. And though you've expanded and said it's like a mother, try to give nature "motherly" qualities (or give a mother, "natural" qualities) rather than just blatantly stating it.


    Not bad though In terms of coursework, it's pretty decent and will score highly. In terms of actual 'poetry' (i.e. if you wanted to publish it), try to cut it all down to bare meaning, bare imagery.
 
 
 
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