Author Topic: Help  (Read 1563 times)

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Offline Mydnight

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« on: May 09, 2004, 04:02 PM »
I am thinking of submitting this poem for a contest and would like to make it as good as i possibly can any help would be apreciated.


Open Mic
~
Imagine it you’re sitting in a dimly lit cafe
The smoke from the burning cigarettes
hanging in the air
The sign outside says Open mic night
A black man sitting in the corner of the stage
Plays his sax soft and low
The music stirs your soul to new depths
A single mic stand stands in the middle of the stage
A spotlight shines down from above
A young man in torn jeans approaches the mic
His eyes show a kind of sadness that reaches the heart
You can hear the bongo drums pick a beat in the background
The young man starts softly
His words move you deeply as you sit
With all your attention focused
On what this young man has to say
Here is the young mans words
Look around you open your eyes
 realize try and rationalize
The pain and poverty in our street
In a box I sleep with nothing to eat
You look you see a bum in a slum whose life is done
Why don’t someone stretch out a hand
Help the man do what you can
No you look the other way
you cant even give the time of day to say
Hello a nod of the head
you act like he is dead you fear you dread
A life of crime some day he will do time
he’s your brother and mine
Listen to my rhyme don’t be blind
Open your eyes realize don’t despise
Just cause he’s different not like you
Spare some change give him a dime
so he can dine without the crime
Walk in his shoes pay the dues
 what do you have to lose
Feel compassion for a dyeing soul
with no hope at all
I am the man that you see stand
without a plan give me a hand
On the streets I will die but my words
will fly that you cannot deny
Hear my words feel my verbs life is so absurd
My words will live on long after I am gone like a song
That plays in your mind all the time
 stuck in continues play
So there’s my reprieve I will leave
so you can conceive the words I do breath
The young man turns from the mic
Walks slowly to the door and disappears
The sound of fingers snapping ringing in his ears
`
Mydnight 2004
Life is a poem you just have to know were to look.

Offline Mydnight

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« Reply #1 on: May 12, 2004, 09:49 PM »
LOL this post get lost in the shuffle i guess
Life is a poem you just have to know were to look.

Offline petro

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« Reply #2 on: May 13, 2004, 01:38 AM »
I hope im not jumping witt, I'm not quite sure if the call to 'help' was for anyone or just witt...but here's my two pence in any event:

First off, I think the piece is really good, but it is awkward to read, and would benefit greatly form some strict formatting.
e.g. the begining POV is done in free verse the second in metered rhym wich is really cool aspect but I think it should be thrust out and formatted to differentiate this distinction...generally ...needs punctuation and formatting.

For what it's worth '<img'>

great work Myd
"...I know you wont kill me,
but I wonder sometimes..."
(Bowie)

witt

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« Reply #3 on: May 13, 2004, 05:05 PM »
Jump in anytime, Petro or anyone else for that matter. My opinions are just mine. A lot of you are better at this than I.
 I agree that this poem needs a structure--spacing, punctuation, etc. I'll be glad to AX it if you wish. Just give me a little time.

Chop, chop.

witt

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« Reply #4 on: May 13, 2004, 06:21 PM »
OK, just finished fiddling around with it.  I can't decide if the first lines of the young man's poem should begin with lower case letters or capitals. I can see great things for this poem. Keep
revising and see what happens.





 Â                            Open Mike
 Â                            ~
 Â                            Imagine it, sitting in a dimly lit
 Â                            Cafe, hazy from burning cigarettes.
 Â                            The sign outside: "Open Mike Night."

 Â                            A black man sitting in the corner
 Â                            Playing his sax soft and low
                Smoke hanging in the air.

 Â                            Music stirs the soul to new depths
 Â                            A single mike waiting the middle
 Â                            The spotlight gilds the stand.

 Â                            A young man in torn jeans
 Â                            Approaches, his sad eyes lock on mine
 Â                            While the bongo beats with my heart.

 Â                                                                                     
 Â                            The young man speaks softly
 Â                            Slowly his words crescendo
 Â                            The young man's words reach aloft,
 Â                           
 Â                            "Look around you; open your eyes;
 Â                            Realize; try to rationalize
 Â                            The pain and poverty in our street;
 Â                            In a box I do sleep with nothing to eat;
 Â                            You look, you see a bum in a slum whose life is done;
 Â                            Why don't someone stretch out a hand;
 Â                            Help the man; do what you can;
 Â                            No, you look the other way;
 Â                            You can't even give the time of day to say
 Â                            Hello, a nod of the head;
 Â                            You act like he is dead; you fear; you dread
 Â                            A life of crime; some day he will do time;
 Â                            He's your brother and mine;
 Â                            Listen to my rhyme; don't be blind;
 Â                            Open your eyes; realize; don't despise;
 Â                            Just 'cause he's different; not like you;
 Â                            Spare some change; give him a dime
 Â                            So he can dine without the crime;
 Â                            Walk in his shoes; pay the dues;
 Â                            What do you have to lose?
 Â                            Feel compassion for a dying soul
 Â                            With no hope at all;
 Â                            I am the man that you see stand
 Â                            Without a plan; give me a hand
 Â                            On the streets I will die but my words
 Â                            Will fly; that you cannot deny;
 Â                            Hear my words; feel my verbs; life is so absurd;
 Â                            My words will live on long after I am gone like a song
 Â                            That plays in your mind all the time
 Â                            Stuck in continuous play;
 Â                            There's my reprieve; I will leave
 Â                            so you can conceive the words I do breathe."

 Â                            The chanting man leaves the mike,
 Â                            Slips through the door and disappears.
 Â                            The sound of fingers snapping in his ears.
 Â                            `
 Â                            Mydnight 2004





witt

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« Reply #5 on: May 13, 2004, 06:23 PM »
I don't know why that line is sticking out. Please ignore it. It has a mind of its own.

Offline Mydnight

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« Reply #6 on: May 13, 2004, 09:41 PM »
ty all for your help i will work with it and repost it again
Life is a poem you just have to know were to look.

Offline petro

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« Reply #7 on: May 14, 2004, 02:55 AM »
ugh I know what you mean witt....im trying to reformat a long short story i posted and it's making me crazy >< '<img'>

Can't wait to see the rev's Myd
"...I know you wont kill me,
but I wonder sometimes..."
(Bowie)