Hell's sweet song

Vex, although you have some mechanical errors in this poem, the underlying tone of despair comes through painfully. I sincerely hope that you are all right and climbing out from under, my friend. Keep writing.

iv learned not to post at 2 am (go ahead an write it but dont post it yet)
"the underlying tone of despair comes through painfully" thats what i was hopein for didnt think i could do it tho bein so new to this

an may i ask what the mechanical errors are i think i see them but id like them shown to me so i can learn to see them befor hand (an all of a sudden i wish i would have payed alil more attention in english)

o one last Q is there anything i can look up that may help me learn to write alil better?

an im fine i just like darker things the world is not all fluffy bunnys an rainbows

Vex, mechanical errors are simply things dealing with spelling, punctuation, etc.

Let's look at the words closer and their. Change those to what I just wrote.

Lossing should be losing, but, frankly, I like "lossing" <smile>

Vex, If you will give us an idea of where you are from, it might help us gain better insight.

Yes, you are right. Life isn't all fluffy bunnies and rainbows. Hey, that would make a great title for another poem. Go with it.

One suggestion. Read lots of poems, and look at the way they are written, and how they impress you. That's a learning technique called modeling. Also, do a spell check and examine what words are presented as an alternate.

where im from id rather not say but o well
im from Arkansas
an be happy i don't write in redneck (shiver)

an i did write that at 1-2 am an to top it off i never write anything so the spellin an stuff could be much much worse

Vex, the reason that I asked was because had you been outside the U.S. borders, that could have made a difference.

My word. There is absolutely nothing wrong with your being an Arkansas inhabitant. There are "red necks" everywhere..and that term doesn't really mean stupid, either.

Once you grasp the basics of writing, then you are allowed to write any way that you want to write.

How do you like this short verse:

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.

i know fully what red neck means but i also know what is normally meant when its said

the first line doesn't really fit it well but thats probly just me

other than that it sounds wonderful

Do you know the origin of the word "red-neck"? I'll tell you what I remember, then I'll try and verify it.

William Byrd of Virginia dubbed the farmers of North Carolina red-necks, because as they ploughed the fields, they got sunburn on their necks.

And I really admire the way that you critiqued that excerpt. Change the first line for me, ok?

Just off the highway on a damp rocky path,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.

not a great line but it flows alil bit better now
with time i could probly find something that sounds better

Very good, my friend. Often our first thought is our best thought.

Spelling has never been one of my long suits, so I am particularly careful with it. Once when I was teaching a mini-unit in etymology, I wanted to demonstrate the origin of the word "assassination". I wrote the first three letters on the chalk board, and my mind went blank. You can imagine the cacophony of laughter from the students.

hehe yes i can
an i will try an watch my spelling more closely
iv liked written the few thing i have it gets rid of all the pent up creativity
an ty for the comments its nice to hear what others think

Ok. Then the next poem that we see from you will be perfect in the things that don't count, and blossoming in the things that do. <smile>

Later, Vex.

Vex, I like this one a lot. The title is spot on! Go on back and fix that spelling and tidy up some of the disjointedness. Focus on linearity and push this flower through the ground!

Hi Vex, I agree, it needs some fine tuning, but you are off to a good start. The first thing your poem reminded me of was 'The Stolen Child', by Yeats. I'll post it here for you to read:

WHERE dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen chetries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's morefull of weeping than you
can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's morefully of weeping than you
can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,.
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To to waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For to world's morefully of weeping than you
can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal-chest.
For be comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
from a world more full of weeping than you.

<Homer voice> mmmmmmm Yeats.......

Love Yeats...

Said Kelly to Cav,
"Pardon me, do you like Kippling?"

"I don't know," retorted Cav,
"I've never kippled!"

(a few spelling errors fixed)

ill fix a few more things after this headache goes away

an thanks as always for the feedback
o and i really like that poem 'The Stolen Child'