You say this is silly, but I don't think so. It reminded me of something from the Bible, with the exception of the allusion to writing a poem. Have you ever read Song of Songs or, better known as Song of Solomon? It is a bit more sensual in its content. Although it is symbolic of the Christ's love for the church, it is, quite literally a sensual Hebrew love poem written by the wisest man who ever lived. Solomon does use the metaphor about hair and tresses of a curtain. He uses other metaphors for other parts of the body. If read literally, it is quite a controversial book.
Here are a couple typos that I found in your poem:
this is a poem i wrote for your skin...
flesh that my own has never been in contact with..
For writing this as a sixth grader, this is pretty good. I find some of my old stories and poems sometimes also. I've posted almost all of them, and it has been well worth it.
Short and simple, but a powerful message. Depending on one's own life experience, people might interpret this differently than I did, but that is probably what you were trying to accomplish. To make people think in their own realms of thought and touch the very core of them due to poetic written words, that is a writer's dream.
I love your imagery. This is a nice, intriguing scene. I like the beginning especially. You wrote that this could be a possible start to a novel. What kind of story did you have in mind? The scenery you described is beautiful and the man in the story, whom you haven't even named yet, is mysterious enough to grab my attention. The woman in the story, however, makes me believe that this story is definitely not over. She isn't well-developed yet.
One thing you may want to do with the dialogue is to put a he said or she said after or before the first line to make it clear who is speaking to whom. Too many he said, she saids isn't needed here, though. One good way to give the woman in the story some depth is to put in something about how she looks at him or some kind of action, such as pushing her hair from her face. The colors of her hair or eyes will give the reader a brief picture of her. Gradual descriptions of characters are always better in longer works of ficiton than a one-time description.
God speed to you. I would like to read more when you write it.
Amen. I've done the same thing. When someone says they've built a wall up to keep people out and the pain that comes with confrontation of any sort out, I do not think of bricks and mortar, although it as just as strong. I usually called it my "shell" because it was built all around me, above and below. Too much chance of something sneaking in from the top or bottom with a wall.
I've studied temperament, and found that this building of the wall or shell is common to one temperament, the Phlegmatic. I am of that temperament. The one thing in my life that forced me to break out of it though was the U.S. Army. I'm able to laugh at problems that I once shut out. I use sarcasm, another aspect of the Phlegmatic temperament, to slowly break down that wall. Comparing life and death situations with "small stuff" put my life in perspective.
I started a blog, and will get back to it soon, about temperament and mental illness.
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This is a great character sketch. I'd like to see Roy come alive in a story, mingling with other characters, whom I've had yet to read about in your other sketches.
Here is something that may help you in writing the novel or novella, if that is what you had in mind. This was taken from a Writer's Digest Novel Workshop Outline and revised slightly. I hope it helps:
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One dynamic character is a good building block. I say he is dynamic, because deep down inside Roy wants to change. He just has to find that reason. That reason probably has to do with influence from the other characters.
This is a great memorial to your son. You tugged at heartstrings with this one. I felt as if I knew your son after reading this. Have you written any other stories about him? Did you keep a journal?
I'm not a mother, but I have lost my grandmother to cancer. I was in basic training in the military while she was really sick. I got called home for the funeral. My mother said that she, who never forgot anything, said that the thing she missed most was my smile. It all happened without too much notice.
Thanks for sharing a part of your life with me. I pray that you have found peace. Judging by the last sentence in this story, you have realized that John is finally at peace, and no longer suffering.
Amen. I love the imagery of the cocoon, and the image of the spider closing in. Of course, in the end, when we reliquish ourselves to God, we are no longer prey to the enemy, but warriors for the Spirit of God.
There are some verses I ran across about two months ago, and I had no reason to look there accept that they caught my eyes. I used in my novel, "Invalid Item" because they fit very well with one of the subplots. Job 33:14-30 is what I thought of when I read this poem. I've never heard these verses preached on in church, but I would love to hear a sermon on them one of these days.
In some parts of this honest, short essay, I would have to say an resounding "AMEN," but there are other parts where I wouldn't. I've been to college recently. I've noticed one thing, and it is sad to say, that it is not God that students don't want to talk about, it is Jesus. Many students believe in God, but it is Jesus that they don't want to hear about. On campus I saw the name of Jesus used by some radical "Christians" who had war protests with grotesque picture and other slanderous signs, one reading "Mohammad is in Hell." Is there any reason that, with a horrid representation like that, students would want to come to Christ. If Christians preach one thing, but do another, the unbeliever sees it. You can talk until you are blue in the face, if the unbeliever has met believers who have represented Christ in a blasphemous way, they are closed off to the opportunity for salvation. The only thing you can do at that point is show them who Christ is by representing Him the way Christians, i.e. Christlike believers, were meant to. Love poured on top of love eventually cancels out that hostility.
There is one thing I've experienced in my life that may give insight to the pretend Christians. I've watched people at church after the realization of a change in me. I used to sit in the pew and hear the sermon, but I wasn't HEARING the sermon deep down. I had blinders on. I wasn't letting God really take control of my heart. I guess I was trying to keep some control of my life. I can't pick out the exact time all of that changed, but now I go to church and my ears are wide open and I am moved emotionally by sermons. I am inspired to write and I have a vision of where God is leading me. However,now my spirit is more sensitive to those who still have the blinders up. They want to believe so badly, but they don't want to reliquish control. I can't say I'm perfect at letting go and letting God, but I'm working on myself. God made me to be great and I'm worth the effort. Everyone has a purpose and gifts granted by God to accomplish it. No one is left out of His great plan.
People often see the little things they want to control, rather than the big picture. God doesn't have blinders on; He sees all and knows all. How many lives get touched by just one other life? That is what success is, the number of people who are better off because you lived. I think back on all of the people who have touched my life, and tears well up in my eyes.
I wrote this as an inspriational message to young people. I hope you enjoy it:
This is a bold poem. I must say that I definitely agree with you. It is sad that YAHveh gets shut out of all public schools, yet other gods are not shut out. If schools allow the celebration of Halloween, but shut God out, what does that say to our youth? Why is only YAHveh shut out? You might say that Jesus, or YAHshua, is the name that people detest, but when you shut out the Son, you also shut out the Father. Last year there were companies trying to take Christ out of Christmas.
In schools, children are taught that they are nothing but a part of an evolutionary process that started with protozoans. One problem is that something that is created cannot be greater than the creator. Another problem with this is that children are made to feel as if they are just another life with not much purpose. In evolution they evolved and were only a small piece in the wide expanse of time. They are not taught that they each have gifts that could change the course of this world. They are not taught how unique they are, and that there is a purpose for this life that they live. They don't understand that they are not just on Earth to sleep, eat, breed and die. Where's the passion in that? Is that truly what men and women give their lives for?
Do not let your passion for the Lord die. More important, though, do not let your passion for the God's children die.
The only suggestion I have for this piece is to rate it appropriately. This poem should have an E-rating. You'll get more readers once you rate it for public viewing.
This poem had some dramatic imagery that kept me reading. It certainly does tug at the heartstrings. I had not been so aware of HIV/AIDS until I started writing a sci-fi novel where the main character is an alien from another world who has a cure for it, using substances not found on Earth, even her very own blood. She had been to another world where this disease had mutated and was being passed by mosquitos. People were living below ground and well over half the population of the planet was gone within ten years. It was also killing people five times faster than the orginal virus. It was also resistant to all the efforts tried to subdue it with medication. That that is fiction and a figment of my imagination, I thank God.
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I also moved to a part of the U.S. where HIV/AIDS is more prevalent. I had been hidden from the reality while in the U.S. Army.
You are definitely right that this disease, or fire-breathing dragon, as you call it, is no respecter of persons. Young, old, married, single, parent or childless, gay or straight, rich or poor, living in a thriving nation or a third world country: it doesn't matter. There is a possibility that anyone could get burned.
Thanks for sharing this poem and welcome to the site. I look forward to reading more of your work in the near future. You have a way of catching my attention with your words. The only thing I suggest is to work on the title. With this poem I would use the imagery you've so creatively painted. Let your description, and more important, the reader figure out what you are writing about. It's just a suggestion, but it may get you more readers if the title is as punchy as your writing.
The plot you have in this short story could make for an excellent novel.
I hope you don't mind if I give you a couple pointers on this one, if you should trust me. I'll give examples from your story to show you what I mean by my suggestions.
The flowers here are beautiful, I can't even describe how beautiful they are. Some are a combination of 2 or 3 colors per flower, they are some of the most exotic flowers I've ever seen in my life, and yet they look kind of rare.
To get the best out of your descriptions use all of the senses you can to bring the reader into your main character's world. Saying something is beautiful or perfect doesn't mean as much to readers than if you use their senses to let them get to know the scenery, and, more important, how your character interprets the scenery.
"Why, aren't we up bright and early today Miss Moon. I brought you breakfast, coffee with some waffles and a biscuit. How are you today?" "Oh just fine, thank you. Carsou, can I ask you something?" "Oh yes Miss Moon, I will help as much as I can." "Why is everything in this town perfect?" "What do you mean Miss Moon? Wouldn't anyone want their town to be perfect too?" "I know, I know, I was just wondering. I mean for example come here." I go towards the window of the room and I point towards a villager outside of my window. I ask Carsou "Why is it that he's always smiling Carsou? Doesn't he have any bad days? Doesn't he get tired of working the same hours everyday? Don't you find that interesting?"
For ease of reading, it is best to split up the dialogue of different characters into separate paragraphs. Later on in this paragraph you go into your main character's thoughts. To give all of your characters a fighting chance with the readers, separate their words, thoughts and actions from one another. The last thing you want to happen is for readers to misinterpret who is doing what or who is saying what to whom.
You do a good job, though, of staying in first person and not diving into Carsou's thoughts. It is also interesting that you've decided to tell the story in present tense.
From one aspiring novelist to another, Godspeed on your journey toward publication.
If you would like to check out what I have as far as novels, you can check these out:
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This was a wonderful account of a touching story. We all have angels watching over us, and you had proof that one was there to wake up Faith Ann's mother before she wandered out into the street in the dead of winter.
I recently took a class in which the students were cooperating with local community agencies to develop or help with projects of different organizations. One of the students worked with Operation Lifesaver. This was the name of the project that was wanting to start a program in which Autistic people and those with Alzheimer's Disease could wear small bracelets that had GPS technology. This is so, if they wander off, the police can find them in a short amount of time. I believe they are being used in the U.S. somewhere. The local people here are having a hard time getting financial resources to fund the project.
Thanks for sharing your real-life experience in this writing.
This is short, sweet, and beautiful. This is an exquisite proclamation of your faith. I especially liked the imagery of the country creek. I used to live not to far from one, and I'd have to agree. In all the noise of life, it's amazing that I still feel that peace when I ask Him.
The only thing I would suggest is to keep the capitalization of "Him" consistent. You have it capitalized in some instances, but not in others.
Keep on sharing your faith. You don't know just who it might touch along the way.
I love the imagery in this scene. I like how you play with light and darkness and with the colors associated with the woman's situation.
Does this belong to a longer story? You've developed the main character well in this short scene.
This story had an ironic twist for me. I had definitely not been abused by my husband, now my ex-husband, but when I really started contemplating divorce because we had lived an ocean away from each other so long, my gold wedding band fell down into the garbage disposal while I was at work. The ring was mangled and I couldn't wear it any longer. Strange twist of fate.
I like the imagery of the diamond, a very valuable gem, having fallen out of a wedding ring that had once been valuable in another sense.
It's been a while since I've read a German item. Thanks. I lived in Germany for five years. It's good to know that I didn't need to look at the English translation.
This poem has few words, but it is deep and thought-provoking.
I've tried my hand at German writing:
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This is an emotional poem. I could feel it. You are more than just a girl. You are an individual miracle.
After reading many self-improvement books, both Christian and secular, I've learned that people are exposed to much more negative than positive in their lives and they begin to absorb that into their perceptions of themselves. I once read that the only perfect Man who lived was crucified. When you try for perfection you crucify your own self. I am happy that I am not perfect. I used to be a perfectionist and thought myself inferior to other people, but then I learned that through our unique flaws and gifts, we are used to help lift others up. We so often look at people for what they are on the outside, and do not realize the torment that is going on inside. I've observed people for a long time, and I can tell who is at peace with themselves and who isn't. This has nothing to do with their physical flaws; actually, when I read Bill Porter's story I learned that the ability to see past your imperfections will get people's attention and win their love. His story made me cry with joy; someone who did not see his disability as a hindrance or obstacle.
Keep on expressing your emotions through your writing. It will help heal those wounds.
This is a bittersweet story, and I can feel your emotional battle in your words. You answered the question in the essay very well. Did you manage to cut out those extra three words? It wouldn't be that hard for me to make a suggestion as to where you can cut without changing the essence of the story.
This is a great narrative filled with the emotional upheaval it took to write it. I've written about painful moments in my life in my fiction, nonfiction, and poetic writing, and I feel the sadness in the moment or the peace of a better understanding of the lesson at hand.
This is a great narrative. You have a knack for painting a scene with your words. I've only ventured out on your property once, but I do understand the country living in its simplicity. I grew up in the country and miss the quiet homey feeling when I go back to visit my Mom and Stepdad. I can't say I've ever hunted, but I can imagine the bonding that goes on between the old hunter and his protege. Those are memories that have been imprinted on you; a feeling I got when I read this.
Technology can't ever take the country landscapes away. If it is attempted, there would probably be a revolt.
Keep on writing, and let's see some of that poetry. Don't be shy. lol.
This is beautiful writing with breath-taking imagery. You painted a picture with your few words that will take quite a long time to erase from my memory.
First of all, hello from another Hoosier. I am a veteran also, so I can relate to this poem quite well. I did not serve in Iraq, and my hat is off to you for your bravery. Thanks for sharing a soldier's view of the war. The media can only report but so much, so as to not give away secrets that may hurt the mission. Of course, soldiers don't speak of those things to reporters anyhow. To say that soldiers are rebuilding schools in a specific town would give away vital information to the enemy, because they are watching also.
I pray that you make it home safe.
May God be with your spirit.
You wrote, "In the world of words, "why" is the king."
In the business venture that I am in, if you don't know why you are doing what you are doing, then you might as well hang up your hat and go home and watch television like the majority of Americans do after work. The question of why always overpowers how, when a dream is so sealed in your mind that you just can't let go of it until you get it, no matter what it takes. I've heard several times, "What is your 'why'? Why do you do what you do?"
People can easily tell you what they want. That's easy, but unless their "why" or passion is big enough, they will get hung up on the how.
I tell you that I do not hate the question "why?" for it fuels my imagination and drives my passions when I hear it asked of me. I have to think out of the box. The answer to this question cannot be methodically measured out like other answers.
Thank you for sharing this short article on this beautiful three letter word, which can drive the imagination or saw at your nerves. This was to the point and I loved your personal touch with teaching English as a second language. How do you ask "Why?" in Korean, if I may ask.
The writing game you mentioned here is great at parties. Some friends of mine came over one time, and we passed paper around. Everyone had a time limit of, I believe, two minutes. The first person, of course, started the story on their piece of paper, then it went around the circle, everyone taking turns writing on every story for two minutes. We had about seven people playing. The stories were hilarious, and I enjoyed bring my creativity to the table, and others enjoyed the game also. It wasn't my idea to play, though. A good friend of mine, who I don't think is on this site, suggested it.
It's great that you could communicate with your daughter with this writing game. It's also a good way to get the juices flowing in your own writing and pour out your feelings to the person you're playing it with.
Thanks for sharing the rules of the game. It brings back happy memories for me.
This is a beautiful poem. You repeat "fog" over and over again, and it sticks in the mind. "Fog," of course is confusion. The light clears that up. The love of Jesus, who died upon the cross, clears all of it up. We have a veil over our eyes until we come to the conclusion that trying to make it alone in this world leaves us lost and in a fog of confusion, without foundation.
I don't have any suggestions for changing this, for it is beautiful as it is. I normally don't like repeating lines in poetry, but you use it for a great purpose. The end of the poem is my favorite line:
There it stands covered in moss.
Dispelling all fog.
Not a light, but a cross!
Thanks for sharing your love for the Lord with us. Everyone who reads this poem will truly be blessed with His message.
This poem caught my eye in your port with its title. I just finished up translations for the final days of my Biblical Hebrew class. The last two passages we translated might be of interest to you. It doesn't matter which translation you have. You'll see the concept of marriage and adultery deepened further than how we speak of them, if you read Jeremiah 2-3 and Hosea 1-3:5. It's powerful, and goes along with your theme here, if you ever wish to add on to this poem.
The presentation would look better if you centered the text. If you wish to do so, then I can tell you how you can do it.
Thanks for sharing your very first poem.
God be with your spirit.
Beth
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