PhoebeRaven's profile
AGE:
25
LOC: Germany
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: August 17
LOC: Germany
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: August 17
Ever since I could hold a pen, I have been writing. I don’t write because I like it, I write because I have to so I don’t go insane.
My writing seldom really fits into any one category and has been described as “painting with words”. What I offer are mostly snapshots of an emotion or a thought or a situation. I don’t write about a lot of outward action, or traditional storytelling. So if you can leave your thinking in categories behind for a moment, then maybe you can enjoy some of the stuff I write.
If you like a bit of music while you read and nicer styling than Urbis can offer, read my writings on my blog:
http://phoebespond.blogspot.com
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Composing myself while composing a poem.
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The Curse of the Sophomore Album: Latest Victims Ever since there has been music released on repeatable mediums, there has been a peculiar phenomenon only few artists have been able to escape: the curse of the sophomore album. Every year there are a few breakout records of bands that show great promise. And yet about a year or two later, when they have to follow up their freshman effort with something equally as good or better, they ultimately disappoint with few exceptions (I literally can’t...
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Version 2
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Tired of waiting for warmer times. Chasing sunny days compares to chasing the grand dream. The cold wind scares me onto assorted bus lines jazzing all over town. In between the designated times is there still a fraction of me left? New constants were introduced: beer always too foamy, eternally wet hands, all my hated bands as the soundtrack, night owl having to be herself and the early bird. Half the effort wins all the hearts in the room by just walking in. What would all the effort do? I a...
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The swollen gland presenting as a chunk of wood lodged in my throat refusing to be swallowed makes it impossible to chuckle at Easter snow in the flatlands. April weather in March fares on the ticket of ridiculous and global warming. Wading through air like molasses – another sensation created by viral intruders – everything happens too slowly. Who pushed slow motion? Puddles of sea-like magnitude open up before my feet. Not only did it snow, it rained as well, how does that work? Urban obsta...
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So the year endeth. Was there something I was supposed to do? On the bench I let the busses pass by. Twinkly lights past their expiration date captivate my fleeting mind. Indistinguishable whether they move, the tree they are in or the wind that blows around them forces them to twinkle. Matt pond PA are in the light. A measly tree in a measly city brings me close to it. Leaving the moment, the bags I carry and the shadows I covet. Don't I have somewhere to be? The somewhere of 2015 is clear, ...
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You are like me, your poetry doesn't fit standardized forms. Your language is poetic and yet I bet tons of people complain about the long lines and no rhymes and all that formalist stuff. I like the message of this, because I am a daughter abandoned by her father maybe. I made up stories about him too, when I was little. If you really wanted to, you could probably put this into a more traditional from of poetry, but then again sometimes we just need to get things off our chest and don't want ...
I like your last image, memories as sand that get washed away, because we all forget things and we are as helpless against it as we are against the ocean's tide. The poem certainly reverberates with sadness, and love lost That sentiment may not be new in itself and your language may not break the mold too much, but this is solid work. Thanks for sharing!
Finally among all the redundant rhymes of teenagers I find something truly worthy of attention. This is very accomplished poetry, in content as in form. You truly tell a touching story, which comes across clearly and yet is wrapped in riddling language. I don't want to go into a whole "I think this is about" shtick, because for you it is always going to be about something else than for your readers. That is the beauty and curse of writing. But the sense of loss of a love is evident in every l...
50.0% Review Quality (2 Votes)
Stop what? I didn't get that. Just stop in general, as in stand still for a second and reflect?? You should have another look at spelling and punctuation. There is a few mistakes that keep this from being "publishable". As for the message, I don't think I can completely relate, because I don't believe in God or praying, but then again sometimes when you witness a loved one showing self-destructive behavior "Stop" certainly is the one thing you can think to say. I think this still needs to be ...
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