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Cricket

Mister cricket in my window,
Can you see me here below?
I'm listening to your song,
Wondering will you sing all night long?

I look up at the moon wishing vampires were real.
I could take a billion years to let my heart heal.
Life's become a passing breeze on my face.
Here, there, everywhere, then gone without a trace.

I think about my friend who lost her Mom.
My heart just went off like a bomb.
Mister cricket teach me to listen.
I'm having hard time, and haven't really written.

Did you ever know
That I wanted to go?
Somewhere far away from this place
Maybe, no one will even miss my face.

I don't mean to sound sad,
I just want to be the pride of my Dad.
I have so many strangling fears.
Sometime I run and hide my tears.

Role model is just not me.
It's not just something that I can't see.
Just a screwed up girl trying to be good.
Always saw this coming way back from my childhood.

God, that's so depressing.
How are you even listening?
Please, Mister cricket tell me,
Can I ever be free?

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Editing stage: 

Comments

Just how much advice do you want? I like this as is but see a number of things that could be done differently..........stan

Tell me everything I like all angel look at it.

The Unknown Poet

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author comment

here's a copy with some changes. These changes are there in order to show there are other possibilities and are not meant to be taken ver batim
Hope this is of use :

Mister cricket in my window,
Can you see me here below?
I'm listening to your song,
Wondering will you sing all night long?

I look up at the moon wishing vampires were real.
ThenI could take a billion years to let my heart heal.
Life's become a passing breeze on my face.
Here, there, everywhere, then gone without a trace.

I think about my friend who lost her Mom.
and my heart goes off like a bomb.
Mister cricket teach me to listen.
I'm having hard time, not having written.

Did you ever know
That I yearned to go?
Somewhere far away from this place
Would anyone even miss my face?

I don't mean to sound sad,
But I'd cherish some praise from my Dad.
I have so many strangling fears.
Sometime I run and hide my tears.

Being a role model is just not me.
It's not just something that I can be.
Just a screwed up girl trying to be good.
Saw this coming way back from my childhood.

God, that's so depressing.
Are you even listening?
Please,my chirping friend tell me,
Can I ever be free?

I may use some of those changes made the flow very nice

The Unknown Poet

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author comment

Loved the talk with the cricket though I think that the cricket lives within the frame.
Your poetry can hold its own in many fields so there is no need to hide it in the guise of a cricket..
Great to read your work again after a years holiday, I am still here.
Next can we tell of ourselves as the auto biography will be great..
Take care and good to see you here, Yours Ian.. (Ian.T)

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Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

Thank you. This poem started because I couldn't sleep with the cricket in my window. And I just let go.

The Unknown Poet

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author comment

And hold on tight. Love you talking to the cricket- we usually think of birds as singing, crickets have a type of song indeed, but its from rubbing their thighs together like a washboard.

These are very powerful and innocent lines, with real poetry power

I think about my friend who lost her Mom.
My heart just went off like a bomb.
Mister cricket teach me to listen.
I'm having hard time, and haven't really written.

Keep at it. And please our Peter Pan!

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

I told to innocence because to me it isn't ignorance as some would say. I think it makes me see things others can't thanks for reading

The Unknown Poet

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author comment

I'm just wondering if you are aware that for many people the cricket is Jiminy Cricket, who is the voice of Pinocchio's conscience. I get you didn't plan it that way but it can be read that way.
Had any rhinoplastic enlargement issues recently?

cheers,
Jess
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