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Hope Does Not BelongREVISED - More Meter - Iambic Pentameter - Exercise 2

Today the daises rot. Her hair, so fine
it seeps through head and heart. The fungus, root,
affliction hard of bones and fingers. Brittle
hate of daughters, sons. Come! Take my hope!
No-more is it I need, my dreams lay shattered, broke
beneath a mild tide: like glass trying to
reflect a hollow ghost. Now claim my words
surrender every pen, my tiny triumphs,
heard by none. And still no-one will be beside
my bed tonight. Alone among my useless dreams,
I tire, feign sleep and scream to gods who don’t
bother with paltry prayers. So shy away
from light I will, abhor all goodness, swill
the wine of madness; hope does not belong.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
Last few words: 
The parsing and meter is probably wrong.
Editing stage: 
Workshop: 

Comments

I think you have it mostly correct. Only things I question are:
L-3 I think this is iambic with a hanging foot
L-4 I believe hatred is 2 syllable with accent on first syllable . Maybe a type trochee?
L-11 I think this is a trochee also
but don't take MY word for it lol............stan

I'll get onto those lines later tonight:)!

author comment

Line 3 was consciously a hanging but I don't think it works. Line 11 was also intended this way but it didn't work either.

I'll have to rethink those lines.

author comment

I thought L-3 was anapest, but I am probably wrong. One suggestion I have is to remove the double spacing, as it distracts from the content. Overall, I really enjoy dark poems and liked yours emnsley.

always, Cat

*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

I'll get right onto it.

I didn't realise I'd left it in double spacing! I'll fix that too.

author comment

I enjoy this piece. I'm finding it difficult to judge the meter, though it does feel mostly iambic, with a bit o this and that here and there:) here's my picky parts: fung-us, ha-tred, te-ppid and pi-ty are two syllables each, (also, you left an 'i' out of daisies). All that probably makes this poem stand out, in my mind... even if it isn't pure meter. (I battle my tits off to keep meter throughout something so deep!)
peace

_____________
If I had it my way I'd be up on a mountain. Playing my guitar,
until my calluses grew calluses, my arse a chair and my smile into a halo

Fixed up those words:)!

author comment

why some people might find the 2 new workshops more... interesting? Both will challenge you to write good poetry. I am only trying to teach certain techniques of meter, which is why I asked to keep the poems simple, un-emotive.

Michelle you were unable to resist writing good poetry, rather than focus on meter. This is not a failure, it is a sign of a true poet. Nobody fails here, you all learn something about meter whether you wrote simple or complex poems.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

I think I'll need to try a lot harder with meter in the future. Because not being able to use it correctly WIll bite me in the arse in the future.

author comment

so I'll comment on the poem. It is immensely dark indeed. I do so love the dark side. But like Jess said, you need to work on writing boring poetry. If this poem is any indication, it looks like you're going to have a hard go of it.
wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

I'll sound like an arsehole saying this, but I really will need to learn how. This was supposed to be boring...

author comment

since you were kind enough to join my first workshop, we will postpone your flogging. wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

Learn how, teach others.
The NeoPoet Mentor Program
http://www.neopoet.com/mentor/about

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