Paragraph 2, Poem = My Haven Of Hell
October 19th 2008 03:23
My Haven Of Hell
My mind is but,a haven of hell
constructed with hands of the devil himself.
Sheets of white do line the walls,
and whispers,
oft gossip up and down the halls.
The past rolls round unaware,
that heaven once resided there.
Yet, my minds eye collides with light.
Extending me a glimpse in time,
when heaven kept a home inside.
No sheets of white to line the walls,
For tranquility, had sealed the vault.
No whispers oft gossiping up and down the halls
Merely pleasant chirps of little birds calls.
Each glimpse revealed, it seems to me
to be a dream so out of reach.
For the haven of hell in which I reside,
has claimed reality, its possession to hide.
How I long, to rest eternally
in the tidy home god kept for me.
And how I wish to disassemble this world,
to which I've been enslaved.
And send the devils ass,
right back where he belongs,
to his own deep dark grave.
This poem, is one, I wrote recently.
Getting back to where I left off on paragraph,1.
I had finally stopped crying, probably because it wasn't solving anything.
I still had these attacks, I was still a hermit, and life still sucked.
My family wasn't very supportive, and my boyfriend, well I don't
think he believed anything was wrong with me. Alot of people
I wish it hadn't left me, too weak, to speak my mind.Because
I would have told them outright, that, I not only thought in a different way,
I felt differently too. I could not wish, nor will my illness away.
I wanted to scream at them, explain, that I had no control and
that I couldn't make them disappear.Because, I would have done
anything to be normal again. I still wish I were normal ,but have
accepted the fact that I'm not. And may never be again. I pray a lot,
asking god to make me whole again.I've always hoped someday,
my prayers would be answered.
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Comment by Lady Henrietta Muddling
Potter in a Harry
I really like this poem.
It opens with two great lines. (If a poem doesn't hook me in with its opening, I worry about what the rest will be like).
It's consistent throughout in terms of its subject and imagery, and ends with lines that tie up beautifully with the opening.
My favourite lines would be:
For tranquility, had sealed the vault.
has claimed reality, its possession to hide.
I'm a lover of free-verse poetry. I find that the constraint of 'rhyme' severely restricts the poet, unless the rhyme is contained within the lyricism of the free verse itself.
It's a very difficult subject to discuss with many poets, because they are convinced that rhyme is the way to go. I don't know where you stand on this issue, but I'll put my thoughts down anyway.
I'm not against rhyming poetry, but I do believe that if every second or fourth line 'has to' rhyme, it's restrictive, and can lead to a certain predictability, becasue there are only so many words that will rhyme perfectly with the preceding 'rhyme line'. And the mind being what it is, is second-guessing instead of getting into the poem itself.
I think this is a good poem. I think if the shackles of rhyme were dispensed with it could easily be transformed into a great poem. This does not mean dispensing with rhyme altogether. It means that overuse of rhyme or being constrained by rhyme for the entire poem is of its very nature restrictive.
I recently spent some time with a woman who likes rhyming poetry. I said very similar things to her that I'm writing to you. She's not comfortable letting go of rhyme. But then, she doesn't plan on publishing poetry. She's more of a fine artist.
It would help if I knew a bit more about your poetry background. As in, who you like as poets, whether or not you've studied poetry anywhere, etc.
Comment by jan webb
Depression Grew
Broken Wings
however, advanced in reading. Words and their meanings are like a gift to me. I like poets, of long ago.
Emily, Walt, Poe, Wadsworth, and the list goes on.
I don't know much about the forms of poetry. I like to rhyme, but am willing to try other forms. I appreciate
your interest and guidance. And welcome, your input.
Jan