And so the writing child lifts her pen...

Blaine

Mon chere...
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    Dogma

    The Father weeps for His sons
    He cries rivers of water soon mixed with blood
    The blood of His sons gathering before him
    And he watches tearfully as the two masses
    Fire at one another
    Commiting genocide
    In the name of religion
    "My sons!" he cries
    His pleas fall upon deaf ears
    His exclamations receive little consideration
    The attempts fruitless
    And the armies do not falter
    More red tears mounting
    The Father weeps for His sons
    And the sons do not listen.
     
    Writing child? o.o Hmm, I believe I remember you. ^^;

    Nice poem! =] (And there's blood...ooo...who doesn't like blood~) I love how you didn't exactly make it stick to a particular rhythm, and the tide of it was strong. The heavy tone still lingers in a way, right after the final line. I s'ppose the captilized 'His' sons was intended.

    I'm not the best on poetry, my apologies. xD
     
    The presence of the "Father" is a symbol that represents God. This particular piece was originally written for the Memphis in May competition. Ireland is this year's host country, so the poem was to be an allegory of the religious war waged between Catholics and Protestants. However, I suppose one could remark that the piece could apply to all religions in general.
     
    Aye, I say you are a wonderful poet. It is quite short though...
    Anyways good job.
     
    I think the length adds a more eminent feel, a more in-your-face-look-what's-going-on nudge. I think it leaves the reader with a sense of awareness of the horrors occurring throughout the world.

    Thank you for the comments. ^^
     
    *hugs tightly* You're back! Back-ish. I guess... Anyways, YAY!

    As for the poem, not my favorite of yours. It's up there, yes, very emotionally evocative, but honestly, the style could use some work. It feels a little incomplete, to me, at least. Not in the ending, in the middle, though. Just like you wanted to include something more that didn't quite get in.
     
    Takai!!! -huggles- I missed you!!!

    Hehehe, there we go! Now we're talking. Constructive criticism is my one and only love. I really never was the poet. Perhaps the poem should be an interlude to a series? Ooooh... Now that might be intriguing.

    As for the incomplete feel, I do realize that. I had removed a line previously that simply was too overbearing. It just did not fit the piece. But enough excuses, I shall pay more attention to my style and... Soul indulgence.
     
    I'd love to see a series of this, it has a great deal of potential, you know. Poetry that adresses social issues is one of my loves.

    [begin tangential ranting]
    Gods, I hate Nick at times. He's a good guy, but the British are far from blameless in the entire mess. **** fool English pride...*growls* I swear, the SAS needs to be disbanded for some of the things they've done. *growls again* The IRA, too. I don't know what reasonable solution can be reached, but it might help a little if they'd both stop shooting each other. Just a little. *sarcasm* Honestly, both of them manage to make me ashamed of both my English and Irish heritage.
    [end tangential ranting/]
     
    Blaine said:
    Dogma

    The Father weeps for His sons
    He cries rivers of water soon mixed with blood
    The blood of His sons gathering before him
    And he watches tearfully as the two masses
    Fire at one another
    Commiting genocide
    In the name of religion
    "My sons!" he cries
    His pleas fall upon deaf ears
    His exclamations receive little consideration
    The attempts fruitless
    And the armies do not falter
    More red tears mounting
    The Father weeps for His sons
    And the sons do not listen.
    Click to expand...

    Very nice. ^_____^ I have to say, I really liked how you capitalized the word "He" and "His." ^^ I expect you used that form of pronunciation to signify the person of a higher power, no?

    This poem makes you think of all life on Earth. It's so unexpected at times and yet so dreading. This poem makes me think of a parent who is helpless to save his children. The fight and kill and die. Yet there's nothing he can do to stop the horror.

    Really shweet poem Blaine, I really liked this one. <3~~~ *stamps the "Kelsey Seal of Approval" on Blaine's poem*

    ~Kelsey
     
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