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Perception's Paradise

Breezes that carry a mind far away
Or the view that makes someone want to stay
A tropical isle in the pacific
Or some tranquil place, much less specific
A well-worn desk, with quill and with paper
Cobblestone streets or city skyscraper
A fiery hell, if their love’s by their side
A home in the clouds, with no greed or pride
Land that’s never been seen by surveyor
A world in answer to every prayer
Somewhere to continue the day’s good work
Anywhere shrimp’s at the end of a fork
Par’dise, to each, is based on perception
Much different answers, same bless-ed question

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
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?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 

Comments

thanks markL. i guess it's not a traditional sonnet, like your 1,2, and 3 rhyme schemes. maybe i'll leave (sonnet) off of my title. thanks for reading and commenting!

author comment

often iambic pentameter. And a volta, that marks a thematic change between the first 8 and last 6 lines.

I think this works very nicely and evocatively as a 14 line poem.

It's cool, without being pretentious.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet is a workshop. Poets take the time to read and think about your work and offer suggestions.
There is no obligation to make any changes however please acknowledge critique and comments.

"A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep."
Salman Rushdie
(printed on the original www.neopoet.com t-shirt)

A group of anthropologists studying monkey tribes found there were some who seemed depressed, alienated. They took them away, fed them well, even treated them with antidepressants and they seemed to respond well.
But when they went to return them to their tribe they found it had been wiped out by predators and other tribes.
The outsiders were the early warning signals.

Poets don't have a place in this world, we never have.
That's our place, to stand outside looking in.
Which doesn't mean we can't love and fuck and piss and fart and bleed like everyone else.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet is a workshop. Poets take the time to read and think about your work and offer suggestions.
There is no obligation to make any changes however please acknowledge critique and comments.

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