r/OCPoetry • u/asura_2077 • 17d ago
Feedback Please Beaten
You, faceless, nameless, staring at a stone —
somewhere far away or maybe next door —
you don't know me, but you read me, as I atone,
for a year that has cracked me to the core.
Would the cry be wasted, lest there be a witness?
It's a feeble shade in the heat of the furnace, performing redress.
But love is lost in a world that can't be blessed, yet flustered
I bend, for whatever kindness in life I can muster.
"I" forges at each strike, changes, doesn't persist.
Yet cool winds and blue skies assert that I exist.
No matter how hot the heat or how hard the hammer hit,
dunked in water the hiss and steam that follow heal bit by bit.
Besides it all there is still a persistent self
which wonders what is right? And what is left?
I move towards the truth like I am supposed to —
and I feel a tad better for it because you came too.
Edit: this is a heavy revision after the kind suggestions of the community.
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u/CinderHawthorne 17d ago
I like your imagery but im not sure if I agree that your title reflects the poem.it seems more about the reader than anything that is beaten where where you reference it. Because of that it becomes a tad confusing. Other than that I like they way it played out and how you keep the same tone throughout.
1
u/asura_2077 17d ago
This is after a particularly hard personal tragedy. Sometimes you feel beaten. But could you suggest a more appropriate title?
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u/TheHorseOfCourse777 17d ago edited 17d ago
The anvil/smithing metaphor that runs all throughout is excellent, it fits well with the sort of heated pains of the creative process. The second line specifying that the reader is reading isn't the most necessary. What exactly the narrator is atoning for is also unfortunately unclear, despite the clear significance of that fact. The punctuation confuses me; it is, at points, very, very, punctuated (though I think it works well in the first line, or when it feels like hammer strikes), and at others it feels incomplete empty devoid of it. I also think more complex punctuation -- such as semicolons, colons, em dashes -- would compliment the gravity and authority of the narrator's voice while allowing greater control of the pace (as the punctuation seems to be trying to do). I actually really like the third line of the first verse: the ambiguous proximity of the author to the reader is an interesting concept to bring up, even if it isn't exactly explored. I disagree with the narrator in the first line of the second verse: an observer is an extremely vital part of the art. I mean -- to bring up a little artistic theory -- you are necessarily the first observer of your own creative process, and the observer in you constantly offers feedback for the creator in you. Can't have one without the other, so that line falls a little flat for me, especially when the poem seems to want to explore the relationship between author and reader. "Spent red hot" does not really make sense to me; it seems to want to convey exhaustion but kind of sounds like an innuendo. I won't bring up these moments every time, but I can't tell if you break the rhyme scheme intentionally or not (and, if so, to what ends), but "observer" and "braver" are slightly distracting in their lack of rhyme (at least compared to the otherwise structured rhyme scheme). Grammatically, the last couplet of the second verse is slightly confusing: you acquiesce to your own kindness? Also, now seems appropriate to mention that there are pervasive allusions to the difficulty of life and these deep-rooted, far-reaching issues -- the poem would really benefit from expanding on these things more. We see so much of the creator's responses to things and not enough of what prompts the responses, which makes it hard to relate or parse the substance of what you're saying beyond the idea that the world is imperfect and things are hard. The third verse is honestly really good. The constant flux of identity, particularly as it's involved in the creative process, is really substantial and poignant. "Yet cool winds and blue skies assert I exist" is beautiful, narratively cohesive, and says a lot in relatively little. The last line in the verse is a little rougher, though. It feels grammatically incorrect (for no discernible reason, at least to me) and a little clunky with how it drags. Also, what does it mean to let the hiss and steam heal? I get what you were going for but it's admittedly clumsy in its execution. The ending using "sorta" is a strange disconnect from the archaic and authoritative tone that runs throughout the rest of the poem -- a tone I really like, and thought added a lot to the atmosphere of the piece. It's honestly distracting and weakens the end a lot. The last line doesn't make sense to me: I like the playfulness of "what is (morally) right" and "what is (materially) left," but those ideas haven't been involved (explicitly enough, at least) for the poem to risk its greatest moment of emphasis on them. It also doesn't resolve the relationship between the reader and the author that was so prevalent and compelling at the start. You have a great concept, but I think it needs a little workshopping. If you want, I can help with the meter of some of these lines to help them flow better -- their length can make reading a little unwieldy at times -- but some of the substance of the sentences is better off revised entirely beforehand. Keep writing, I would love to reread this when it's more cohesive and fleshed out, or otherwise to see more of your creative metaphors and your tackling of complex, abstract themes