theycallmeoj
Active Member
So my friend sends me this poem and asks if i think it's any good. I'm really not the one to judge but perhaps some of you might give me some opinions on it. So this is what she sent to me:
I was reading the other day
Poems in the unassuming sense
Comfortable words that whistled in my head
the way a happy man whistles when he walks
Contented to the post office
running errands: milk, and a loaf of bread,
a roll of stamps and pipe tobacco.
I wish I could write that way
Everyday, not ordinary but
at peace
Making observations over a cup of coffee,
under a cloud of cherry tobacco.
My words are the call of a crow on the asphalt
I wonder if the sound hurts as much to make
as it does to hear
Does the crow agonize over every syllable
Every breath that is not noise
Weighing the difference
Until the pain of silence is judged
Worse than the scratchy ripped caw
That's how it is for me
In the parking lot, scavenging
I hold my pen still
Until
The silence is unbearable
and I must speak, though I know
They will see what I am then
Glossy black feathers
Bright eyes
Desolate voice
Is this any good? I told her i thought it was good, but honestly i was trying to be nice. I couldn't tell you if it was good or not. Poetry isn't really my thing.
Thanks for all the replys.
I was reading the other day
Poems in the unassuming sense
Comfortable words that whistled in my head
the way a happy man whistles when he walks
Contented to the post office
running errands: milk, and a loaf of bread,
a roll of stamps and pipe tobacco.
I wish I could write that way
Everyday, not ordinary but
at peace
Making observations over a cup of coffee,
under a cloud of cherry tobacco.
My words are the call of a crow on the asphalt
I wonder if the sound hurts as much to make
as it does to hear
Does the crow agonize over every syllable
Every breath that is not noise
Weighing the difference
Until the pain of silence is judged
Worse than the scratchy ripped caw
That's how it is for me
In the parking lot, scavenging
I hold my pen still
Until
The silence is unbearable
and I must speak, though I know
They will see what I am then
Glossy black feathers
Bright eyes
Desolate voice
Is this any good? I told her i thought it was good, but honestly i was trying to be nice. I couldn't tell you if it was good or not. Poetry isn't really my thing.
Thanks for all the replys.