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Thu 28 Apr, 2005 04:17 pm
Well to start this off I guess I will say hi to everyone. My name is Josh and my interests are people, poe, poetry, and economics. That is my short introduction and here is my poem. Hopefully I can get some good help on how to improve it being I haven't had to much feedback on any other forums I'm on.
I was inspired to right this on Martin Luther King Day which is when I wrote probably the first eight or so lines but tonight I was determined to finish it is, so here you go. Please critique this piece very harshly because it is currently my favorite poem, I want to make sure it is my best by the time I'm completely finished.
I Have A Dream
Just over two score years ago,
Freedom was hidden in a symbolic shadow,
The flames of injustice were challenged,
But not before the edges of freedom were fringed,
And still forty-two years later,
Freedom isn't far from the incinerator,
The manacles of segregation,
The chains of discrimination,
They still, and may always exist,
But for equality must we persist,
The Negro, the Asian, the poor,
The Hispanic, the Arabic, the whore,
The list of captives continues,
Written in different languages and hues,
Today I denounce the current situation,
The unspoken rule of anti-affiliation,
Today I dramatize this idiocracy,
That appears to be a piece of our heredity.
I bring back the check of forty-two years ago,
Because the holders of the inheritance haven't let go,
It seems that our inalienable rights have been alienated,
To those, in our society, not high enough rated,
Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,
No desire for more, even so no desire for less.
It is obvious America has not changed it's policy,
"Insufficient funds" scrawled on the check returned to me,
Even now I fail to believe the banks of justice are bankrupt,
Though there may still be a possibility that they are corrupt,
I refuse to believe of insufficient funds in the vaults of opportunity,
I must demand the riches of freedom, justice, and security,
I will not wait forty-two more years or even a day,
For another minute things should not be tollerated this way,
Before it is to late we must be pulled from the sinking sand,
Before it is to late we must convert this perverted land.
The ebullient summer of legitimate discontent,
Will continue till the invigorating autumn that you repent,
Two-thousand five is not an end nor a start,
But a continuation in the journey to receive our part,
Those that hope we will soon blow off some steam,
Will endure a nightmare or answer the dream,
Remember a nation divided can not stand,
And it will not, until you take mine and your neighbors hand.
While on our quest for this undiscovered justice,
May we restrain from drinking of hatred's chalice.
We must conduct ourselves with dignity and discipline,
We must not subside ourselves to the desires within.
We must acknowledge we cannot make this walk alone,
We cannot turn back so all persistence and sincerity be shown,
We mustn't settle for an euphemized hate or a compromise,
We must continue till the streams of righteousness rise,
Rise to a point of true and justified equality,
The same equality promised to 'them' as to you and me.
Wherever you read these words, this forgotten memory,
Remember all can be changed by you and me,
We must not continue this valley of destitution,
We must all participate in the act of restitution,
Despite the difficulties and frustrations you may endure,
Always keep the original idea of the American dream pure.
My dream is for the creed of this nation to be fulfilled,
My dream is that the hate of our current situation be distilled,
My dream is that we would judge with more than our eyes,
My dream is that we would not cover our ear to worthy cries.
I have but a dream today that every valley be pulled high,
That every hill and mountain be flat and forever die,
That every rough place may become smooth and level,
And that which is empty now be made full,
And that the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
And all shall see it and the underlying hate be appealed.
I pray that today we may be able to sing with new meaning,
I pray that to this stated way forever we cling.
"My country, 'tis of thee,
sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride,
from every mountainside, let freedom ring."
"Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous peaks of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and every molehill of Mississippi."
Let freedom ring from every heart,
Let freedom ring from every mouth,
Let freedom ring from every peak or valley,
Let freedom dwell within the hearts of you and me.
By
Joshua Hinson in memory of Martin Luther King
I'm a poor critic, never having been published. I quite like reading your work as an essay but have trouble following it as a poem. Does that make sense?
Hey Joshua
I haven't read all of this, cos i only came online to check some emails and haven't got time right now!! But i have read the first verse and i like the feel of it. There's a couple of things that i would change
Quote: Freedom isn't far from the incinerator,
It's just a personal thing, but something about this line irritates me
Quote:
The Negro, the Asian, the poor,
The Hispanic, the Arabic, the whore,
My only reserve here is that while i can see what you're aiming for, you're probably better off not mentioning whores. As it happens i detest being PC - but somehow i can see somebody somewhere taking offence at the possible connotation that hispanics or arabs are whores....
Anyway i like what i read and i'll read the rest later!! *bookmark*
Yeah ... I think I have a pretty similar impression. I hasten to add I'm neither poet nor critic of any stature or accomplishment ... but while the thought and sense of the piece seem to sorta come through, I certainly can't find scan or meter to it; it, to me, at least, just doesn't have the flow of poetry, rhymed or free verse. The syllabification, phrasin', pacin', and accenture just don't seem to work the way I think they ought.
Quote:My only reserve here is that while i can see what you're aiming for, you're probably better off not mentioning whores. As it happens i detest being PC - but somehow i can see somebody somewhere taking offence at the possible connotation that hispanics or arabs are whores....
Anyway i like what i read and i'll read the rest later!! *bookmark*
Ahh thanks. Glad someone finally bought this up. I felt the same but no one had made mention of it. I came to a blank and that was the only rhyme I could think of, I'll have to reconstruct that bit.
And to you timber landko someone else had suggested the flow wasn't that good so I will probably try this in free verse and maybe I can make it a bit easier for the reader to flow with it.
Thanks, off to school.
I'm trying to think of something else that would fit in in place of the poor/whore rhyme
I suppose you could have something like
The Negro, the Asian, the young single mother
The Hispanic, the Arabic, and each other
But that's a bit of a cop out to be honest!! (single mum's were just the first group i thought of that are discriminated against)
I'll have a think
That sounds better than what I currently have there.
re: The Hispanic, the Arab, the ?
The obvious choice would be
... the poor,
the Hispanic, the Arab, the Moor
although the word Moor is a bit archaic, and used here it's possibly redundant. Still, it might be used as an allusion to the Crusades, as part of a religious persecution theme.
Try
http://www.rhymezone.com
maybe something will leap out at you.
Good luck.
I had a problem feeling a good flow to the poem, so I too think it might be best in prose form. I think that some of the lines have either too many or too few syllables. Like for instance :
Just over two score years ago, (8 beats)
Freedom was hidden in a symbolic shadow, (12 beats)
You don't necessarily have to do this but to me, this would sound better in terms of flow.
Just over two score years ago, (8 beats)
hidden in symbolic shadow, (8 beats)
I think it flows alright. It's not necessary for it to be in any recognizeable poetic mold for it to be good poetry.
However, it is an extremely short poem spoken extremely verbosely. It is my strong opinion that a poem should be a distillation of one's thoughts...that the poem may be short, but analysis may show that it actually holds a lot of meaning.
Your poem is the opposite of this...you have basically one thing to say which you repeat over and over in different words to the point where it is a struggle to focus my eyes and actually read through the whole thing on account of boredome.
Your prose is so pretentious...I see that's part of the style of this poem..but I can't help think that you'd be able to write a better poem using your OWN native words which you are no doubt more familiar with and have more control over.
You say that you want harsh critcism so that you can make sure this is your best poem. That's about the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. The good poems start good, and the bad poems start bad. Editing can clean things up, but you can't make a poem into your best poem simply by working on it for a long time.
I usually write my poems, edit them for about 5 minutes, and then call it done. If I come back a year or two later, I can usually find a couple ways to improve it...but aside from that, I'm not really changing the quality of the poem.
That said, you can improve the grammar...there are a number of spelling and other errors in this
stuh505 great advice man. I never really thought of it that way though that is how I usually write my poems. I never do much except for fix the gramatical errors.
About the repetitive part, the reason for this is I was pretty much just mirroring the "I Have A Dream" speech. I'll go ahead and post some more of my poetry in here and start replying to other people's stuff now that I have a little free time.
Well so far thanks for all of the help and advice all of it was very good. The best that I have received thus far.
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