Thread: Fresh batch here! Right out of the oven!

First time in months since I've written anything substantial (it's mostly unrefined blathering).

Remember, I'm a Science guy, so don't go easy on me, write what you actually think .

***NEWBIE ALERT***

"The lame child,
Donned in kings armor,
Sits upon a crumbling throne.


A helm too big,
The shoulders too broad,
Like a stack of leather and metal,
He chortles and laughs,
Finessing tiny strings of power;
The boy cries out orders,
Declarations, commandments,
To an empty chamber.

The sound of a siren,
A bare girl, freshly washed,
Flows underneath the mantle,
Creeping like dawns fingers,
Underneath his eyelids,
That begin to open.


His tiny hands wrap around a hammer,
Almost too large for him to wield.
Standing does little.
His armor's too big,
His body too small,
He trudges from the throne,
Tumbling down, while
Cursing his own weakness,
Pouting, the blubbering fool,
But the girl’s voice is still there.

He strips off the plates,
The mail, the leather,
Running to the voice,
Through the nightly chamber
Where demons lurk,
Amongst the stone audience.

They pet and claw,
Mock and tease,
He wails,
Assured that only death
And misery his only accomplices,
He charges ignorantly,
Desperately, to reach the morning,
And stand beside the girl,
Whose voice awoke him."

Well, Science Guy Faukes, on the whole, I very much enjoyed this. At times, I was asking in a Calvin and Hobbes kind of sense, whether he was actually in an empty throne, or if it was all in his imagination. One bit that tripped me up was

"A helm to big,
Shoulders too broad,
Like a stack of leather and metal,
He chortles and laughs,"

Are his head and shoulders too big, resembling the shape of a stack of leather and metal, or is he laughing like a stack of leather and metal? Either way, a little cleaning is in order, since in one case he more than resembles (he actually is) a stack of leather and metal, and in the other, readers don't know how leather and metal laugh. Also, I can't quite put my finger on it, but the last 2 or 3 stanzas don't seem to have gotten the same amount of care that the rest of the poem had. Aside from that, it's solid in my opinion.

Hello

I won't try to guess what circumstance you are portraying here. To me it held a few memories of puppet-style kings controlled by others' love of other things.

so I'll just look at the writing. Feel free to disregard.

you wrote:

A helm to big, - too big
Shoulders too broad,
Like a stacked in of leather and metal,
He chortles and laughs,
Finessing tiny strings of power; - finessing sort of implies minute movement
The boy cries out orders,
Declarations, commandments,
To an empty chamber.

The sound of a siren, - song? there is a difference since it is being sung
A bare girl, freshly washed,
Flows underneath the mantle,
Creeping like dawns fingers,
Underneath his eyelids,
That begin to open. - nice images

His tiny hands wrap around a hammer,
Almost too large for him to wield. - for him is assumed as subject hasn't changed
Standing does little.
His armor too big,
His body too small, - first stanza -shoulders too broad clashes with this image
He trudges from the throne, - over tell and 'trudges' is the wrong image
Clumsily, he tumbles down, - you are showing and then you tell me he is clumsy
Cursing his own weakness,
Pouting, the blubbering fool,
But the girl’s voice is still there. - should be on the next stanza as this is him - a siren or a girl?

Tears run down his cheeks, - tears are over used as an emotion, so cliche
He strips off the plates,
The mail, the leather, - center on what he discards without 'the' tag
Running to the voice, - this line could be replaced with the last on the previous stanza
Through the nightly chamber - or remove the 'ly'
Where demons block his way,
As they have for so many years. - maybe ...where demons wait.

They pet and claw him, - the subject is understood
Mock and tease him,
He wails, alone and afraid, - over tell - wails is enough
Assured that only death
And misery his only accomplices, - fragmented, a few of your lines are
He charges ignorantly,
Hoping to reach the morning, - make it his goal, not his hope
And stand beside the girl,
Whose voice awoke him."


I liked this piece
there is no strike out here, so the bold is what I think could be removed

thanks for the read

Sync

Originally Posted by ODaly

Well, Science Guy Faukes, on the whole, I very much enjoyed this. At times, I was asking in a Calvin and Hobbes kind of sense, whether he was actually in an empty throne, or if it was all in his imagination....

He's actually playing Calvinball. He found the game manual on the corpse of some poor kid in the woods. He also found a stuffed tiger and a sled beside it jk.

Originally Posted by ODaly

Also, I can't quite put my finger on it, but the last 2 or 3 stanzas don't seem to have gotten the same amount of care that the rest of the poem had. Aside from that, it's solid in my opinion.

You're absolutely right! I laid out a basic storytelling outline before reworking it to be more... poetic? But I got distracted halfway through by a few Daft Punk videos... seriously, some of 'em are trippy. If I was on LSD, headcheese would ooze out of my ears, lol (not that I condone or do LSD...).

Originally Posted by Sync

I won't try to guess what circumstance you are portraying here. To me it held a few memories of puppet-style kings controlled by others' love of other things.

The situation is a guy getting over his "I'm top s!@#" fallacies. He met a woman who went through similar things and is trying to be worthy of her company. Hard to pick that out of this patchy work, hehe.

Originally Posted by Sync

so I'll just look at the writing...

Thank you for working your way through it! It could use a good, thorough rework and polishing, which I tried to do today, but to no avail. It felt easier to craft a poem out of the ramblings than try to make a story out of 'em, but poetry is definitely not my strong suit.

Thank you both for the feedback!