Crying in the Rain

[Aneirin]

I Awoke.
A tear I shed, as I lay in my bed.
Distant friends and fears of life...and death, revolve untold in my head.
To the window open I go, to breath in the fresh air.
A longing of freedom. A longing of loss.
How it pulls at me standing there.
Then suddenly as if by chance or fate, I ventured out into the taint.
Casting high over town and field, the gas lamps below grew faint.
Catching the rising winds with both hands, I broke the barrier high.
Ascending both cloud and time, then dancing in the sky.

I fell.
Down and down, till the clouds broke my fall.
Then I saw it, saw the truth that the world is not so tall.
Return I shall, to the land below. The land of woods and streams.
To live alone with loneliness sown, into my very dreams.

I Returned
Riding the clouds laden with life, I could feel my eyes swell.
For when I return to my world before, alone I am doomed to dwell.
I sailed across the moonlit sea, and fell lonely throughout the night.
And at first breaking of dawning day, I shall harness it's light.
Then with rainbows in my mind, but mist in my heart
Shower golden tears upon the world

[ray miller]

I Awoke. - is capital A a typo?
A tear I shed, as I lay in my bed.
Distant friends and fears of life...and death, revolve untold in my head.
To the window open I go, to breath in the fresh air. - there's some unnatural phrasing throughout. Why not open window? Should be breathe.
A longing of freedom. A longing of loss.
How it pulls at me standing there.
Then suddenly as if by chance or fate, I ventured out into the taint. - taint is an odd, but charming, word to use.
Casting high over town and field, the gas lamps below grew faint.
Catching the rising winds with both hands, I broke the barrier high.
Ascending both cloud and time, then dancing in the sky. - reminds me of The Snowman.
I fell.
Down and down, till the clouds broke my fall.
Then I saw it, saw the truth that the world is not so tall.
Return I shall, to the land below. The land of woods and streams.
To live alone with loneliness sown, into my very dreams.

I Returned
Riding the clouds laden with life, I could feel my eyes swell.
For when I return to my world before, alone I am doomed to dwell.
I sailed across the moonlit sea, and fell lonely throughout the night.
And at first breaking of dawning day, I shall harness it's light. - its light
Then with rainbows in my mind, but mist in my heart
Shower golden tears upon the world

Not keen on the last section but there's a certain charm in the poem, despite the archaisms and unworldliness. It feels like the language is being contorted to accommodate rhymes at various points.

[cynwulf]

G'day Aneirin,

I tend to agree with ray on the archaisms and inversions, but liked the otherworldliness, don't let rhyme rule you- a deal of great poetry doesn't rhyme-most of Shakespeare eg, and Milton hated rhyme, English is not naturally endowed to rhyme unlike say Italian or Russian.
regards, c.

[B00295798]

Yep I agree, I think the rhyme limits the potential expression in this, and the title is a bit.... meh. I think there's certain nominal words used that could be developed into something more fantastical to fit with the tone.... some of the lines are quite cumbersome, but I think that's an effect of sticking to the rhyme.

[Aneirin]

thanks for the reply's. yea I know that there is a lot to work on. It was a quick idea that I found sticking to rhyme easier just to get on the page. I must admit that knowing exactly what classifies as poetry and what does not is still a little confusing to me. it will get better....I kept changing the title too, follow my first instinct in future

[B00295798]

As far as I'm concerned poetry is what you make it, there aren't rules, only guidelines. There's alot of concepts within poetry that count to form, but it's your idea and your expression and as long as it's genuine I don't think you can really go wrong. You've never any guarantee people will be able to see your point and more specifically, see your point from the perspective you intend it to be seen. For me the skill of a good poet is to be able to make their point unmistakable, even if people see it from a different perspective. The trouble with words is that they're all metaphors, and people attribute different meaning to them. It's a pain and I personally wish we were able to fire pure emotions at people so that we cannot be misunderstood if you're unsure then read as much poetry as you can from as many different people as possible, you'll have a bigger picture as to what is deemed 'poetical'. Pablo Neruda is my fave :):)