A couple of poems I've written any criticism would be accepted. Kaleidoscope cats A psychedelic scorpion, morphing and reforming, to a portrait of a hornet in space, before it gets exploded. Kaleidoscope cats attack with frogs on their back. Armed with toads of mass destruction, and their lasers attached. Revenge is sweet to extract, and every dog has its day, because the psychedelic cats will claim the Milky Way. And the Scorpions and hornets defend, but then to their dismay warriors from mars, dimension dogs will charge. A war it has begun, it is a battle for the stars. Balance I try not to make a big deal out of life Does being so quiet make me fell alright Giving into darkness, blacker than night But then what is black, But a darker shade of white. No im not emo, Im just kind of sad I may not be good, but im not all that bad Its finding a balance of one and another About being in love, but not being a lover Liking the sun as much as the moon Go to bed early, and wake up at noon It’s finding a balance of one and another That keeps the world happy and living together A Lighthouse In a Sea Of Time. A picture's worth a thousand words, and if it's color, more I've heard. A picture is, if you ask me, a bookmark in eternity. Imagine time, a navy sea. Flowing, moving, constantly. The sky is dark, your vision dulled, and through the sea of time you're pulled. While in the sea, the pictures shine, a lighthouse in the sea of time. Though you aren't there, you are reminded, memories that once were blinded. Hoping one day you would find it. A Pictures worth, as you might say, is various from day to day. But in the scheme of time and space, and all the past that's been erased. A picture's simply but a taste of people, places you have faced.
I love Your first poem because, as sylvanlightening said, You can just picture looking down the tube and seeing the whole story unfold. The last line "It is a battle for the stars" is the perfect sum up of whats going on in your "war" of images. Really great. What I get from Balance is a note of compromise that is difficult to attain from someone who shares himself with paper rather than flutter around like a social butterfly. I can relate to that feeling and for that reason I do like it. However in general, it sounds like what most of us "writers" tap out on a frustrating afternoon. As for your last poem, I really like it too. To me the color memories are the more traumatic things that have happened and therefore have taught me more. When you say "[your] vision is dulled" I get a sense of the impending future that we are forced to endure without any ability to foresee warnings. I thought you did a really great job with these and I know how hard it is to get feed back. I hope you continue your art.
